23%
Even if fists alone
Are only hands, they’ll
pummel innocence away
Just to announce that you
Are less because you love
Wrong; love the wrong; the wrong
Person loves you. Back
Of hands, violent, can grip
Nothing; yet, reversion
Says your tux will not walk
Him down the aisle. The message
Says the hand you hold is not
The right hand. And the left
One will be naked. When
Hands disapprove and become
Grips around guns – butts that
Will bludgeon – tie him to a fence.
Tell him he can’t serve and hold
A gun. Tell others it’s okay to jump
From cars with fists around baseball
Bats that swish violently in the night
At heads already enclosed in gauze.

still unfinished plaster bust for breast cancer auction in June, i have so much more done on it i had to share. i have 5 nearly complete paintings on the peice now. the chesire cat in a tree of playing cards, rising up from a flower bed, the mad hatter and march hair, having tea at the doormouses unbirthday party, the start of the live flower garden, then moving left we have the catterpillar and the white rabbit in a mushroom grove, and the red queen and her chess peices will be looking down disapprovingly on all. no one below seems to notice Alice and delialah ( her kitten) have been watching through the opening of the rabbit hole this etire time.
Well loves – welcome, one last time to my dim lit corner – here I sit – legs laced on my stool – heart heavy on the inhale and weightless on the exhale suggesting that all things come & go – & the good ones forever – I love you as the light dims on this corner – I love you as the day breaks over each and every solitary moment – I love you in the timelessness of forever, in the flight of the doves wing, the neighbors cry, the mothers recognizing words, the fathers loving whispers, I love you as all the things that are, have been, will be and were, the stars lining with crimson moons and soaking up lifes moisture, I love the mist that anticipates every time you draw and release a breath, the heart beat in the chest that rises and falls, and I each time with it. I love you as everything, so you see in deed – my mystical friends- there is no begg. there is no end –
The rain fell against the window –transient
And I fell in love again there
All of the days tastes dropped into jars id collected
Id dipped lavishly into the river of all things
No plan in the rain stopping
No plan on what comes next or continuation
Waiting for the pulse to stop waiting for the water to turn off
And then the floods came
And I inhaled and exhaled with eyes and mouth open
Thought I couldn’t come over it
Thought id never live again or breathe again
Or live to hear a heartbeat inside of my body besides my own
Or a husband tell me he loves me
There in those waves water crashing
I became transient floating
Methodically with the current
Soothed by the upheaval to feel
Less than worthy of anything
Knowing that from that moment forward
I would not drink another meal
And eat another glass of water
Over coming in that moment the confiscating winds inside myself
Calming the tides , residing in a space of the ocean un-afraid
Truly, fully, not the victim – but at a
A café if you will, a cloud there floating
taken up
Am one with it
With everything and with nothing
And I know then
I know that I AM the great spirit
That we are one with all things
Stilling the hush of dilapidation
Surfacing weightless gliding
Effortlessly upon the blue cascading water
Raptured in frothy foamy surf
Some how returned to the shore
& all the better for it
-Friends and fellows- much love throughout this 52 week geek project – this wild beautiful ride on lifes rocket – projecting in shots that we all served up & I am grateful / blessed to have been able to share time, energy & space with such beautiful souls, & talented artists.
-ThE End
Love,
Ashley Davene
Well, here it is. My last submission for TGAP 3. It’s bittersweet… I am SO ready for TGAP 4 (if that actually becomes a thing).
True to myself, I needed to go out big. So, the last project was my most ambitious. The mix, the cover art, and to have it available to listen to or download.
LINK TO THE COMPLETE AUDIO FILE
Week 52- Michael Mooney
Posted: March 25, 2012 in Michael Mooney, Week 52Tags: 2012, beached starfish, color pencil drawings, Michael Mooney art, New england photography, New hampshire artists, Nh artist, starfish, www.moonartdesign.com
52 of 52!!!! WOOHOO. It’s been a fun year with a ton of great art! I am going to keep this going and continue to post one a week on my blog and on facebook.
Here is a new drawing, the first of many to come from a new series I am starting… After all, it is almost summer!!
The original drawing is available for purchase $40 and prints are available here.
Cheers!
Wish I had something amazing for the last entry into this year-long project.
Let me just say this has been interesting. Not since college have I had a deadline to create anything so that was a challenge, but neither have I been able to communicate and share work with other artists. I’m really glad I was introduced and invited to join this project. Thank you for your time.
The introduction to a period piece I was working on, abandoned for now, hopefully to be picked up again later…
Sitting in the examination room wearing a paper gown was not the way I wanted to start my day. It was cold, and I was tired. I didn’t get home from the bar until well after two o’clock this morning. But there I was, a little after nine in the morning, waiting for the doctor to tell me what’s been going on. Lately, I’ve been feeling very nauseous and just shitty in general.
“Ms. Oliver?” the doctor poked his head around the door.
“Yes?”
“Well, I have some good news for you. You’re going to be a mother.”
My mouth went dry. “I’m pregnant?”
“Yes, Lauren. You’re pregnant.”
“But, that can’t be. I’m on the Pill!”
He shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, Lauren. The Pill can’t be one hundred percent accurate at preventing pregnancy. Even if you never missed a day, there is still a small chance that you can become pregnant. Are you sure you never missed a day, or two?”
Guiltily, I thought back over the past few months. “I may have forgotten a day here or there.”
“Well, there you go. I’d like to schedule a follow-up for you at the beginning of next month. As you approach your due date, you’ll be seeing me more.”
Absently, I asked, “When is my due date?”
“Right around the first of September. Since this is your first child, you may actually have the baby anywhere from mid-August to mid-September. But, you are about two-and-a-half months along. Congratulations, Lauren.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I was completely in shock. I’d have to go home and look through my date book from last year and see what happened in November and December. Rather, who had happened.
I took a sip of my Tab and looked across the table at my two best friends. “Well. Cindy, Rose, I found out why I’ve been feeling like shit for the past few weeks.” Taking a bite of my Cobb salad, I waited for a response.
Cindy stirred her Bloody Mary. “As long as you aren’t pregnant or dying, it can’t be that bad.”
I sat silently watching the celery spin in Cindy’s drink.
“Oh, God, Lauren. Please tell me you’re dying.” Rose started to giggle at the sound of her own words, then stopped abruptly
“I’m due on September first.” I stared at my plate vacantly.
“Shit, Lauren. That’s awful.” She sipped for a moment, then spoke. “So when are you getting rid of it? I mean, you’re only nineteen. You can’t have a kid.”
“Cin, I might keep it.” I saw a strange glint in her eyes as the words passed my lips.
“What?” She turned and motioned to the waitress for another Bloody. “You can’t be serious. You can barely support yourself, let alone another human being. Besides, you aren’t married.”
“I can pick up a few more shifts at the bar. And who says I have to be married to have a baby?” I couldn’t believe my best friend since Kindnergarten was reacting this way.
“Yeah, Cindy, Lauren doesn’t need a man to make herself feel whole. Haven’t you learned anything from Women’s Lib?” Rose was visibly angry at Cindy’s thoughtlessness.
Cindy had now abandoned simply sipping her second Bloody Mary, and was now almost chugging it. “You know I will support you in whatever you decide, Lauren. But just let me say this to you. Please consider getting an abortion.”
Cindy’s thin words of support seemed forced, and void of genuine feeling. We finished our lunch in silence.
After work, I came home and sat on the bed listening to an old Stones album while I wrote in my diary. In the quiet of the night, I reflected on the long day and its meaning.
Monday, February 18, 1977
Today I found out that I am going to be a mother. I can’t believe that in just a few months, I’ll be responsible for another person’s life. Cindy Lou says I should get rid of the baby, but I don’t know if I can do that. There is a life inside me. Sure, I don’t have a husband, but who needs one? Rose says I’m not the first single mother, and I certainly won’t be the last. I’ll have to find another job, though. I can’t support a son or daughter on my tips from bartending at The Chateau.
I looked back at my date book to try and find out when I might have gotten pregnant. The only thing I can find that makes any sense was that Christmas party that I went to with Stanley Drake up on the mountain. We got snowed in and spent the weekend. I messed around with a couple different guys that weekend, and I didn’t have my birth control with me. It must have been that weekend.
Regardless, I am going to be a mother. I can’t believe it. Wish me luck!
I finished this closer to the Week 52 mark then the 51 but I will have something else this week. :B