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angel of the quake [or the patriarchy is crumbling]

angel of the quake

she clings to his leg
holding up the fractured pillars
(white marble with purple veins)

she clings to him
looking up with such devotion
(the master feeds her)

she clings to his leg
holding on to a crumbling world

she is in the rubble now
her hands bleeding
seeking his eyes

he doesn’t see her
his eyes averted
(he sees only all the work he must do)

neither of them see
the water rising
but she is under first
the water filling her lungs
(he doesn’t notice)

he leaves to
find an oar

An ekphrastic poem I wrote inspired by the photo “Angel of the Quake” by Manuel Álvarez that I had the privilege to see at the Frye Art Museum as part of the Manuel Álvarez Bravo: Mexico’s Poet of Light exhibit.


The patriarchy is crumbling.  Creating chaos.  Creating opportunity.

The poet Holderin wrote

Danger itself/

Fosters the rescuing power

Danger and risk can serve to lift us out of our complacency.  It’s certainly true that comfort seems to keep us deadened in many ways.  Clinging to crumbling pillars will not end well.  We can co-create a new reality.

Embrace the new.

Imagine new possibilities.

Stay woke.



Note:  Image is a piece in I did in 24 hours as part of 14/48:  The World’s Quickest Theater Festival in January 2014, now in a private collection.  We were given a prompt, a support, and 24 hours to create a work of art in whatever medium we chose. I didn’t know at the time that would one day have an orange-haired clown as POTUS but that’s how the Unconscious works, isn’t it?

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fractal wound


soft folds
(ripped open)


deep slash


peer into darkness
(infinite landscape)

fractal wound

like a river winding
through a canyon

he saw all worlds

we both saw



Ekphrastic poem inspired by the Hana Hamplová: Meditations on Paper exhibit at The Frye Art Museum.   I saw it once, alone, and once with a date.   We both marveled at the raw eroticism of these photos.   No idea if that was the intent.

These photos are a reminder to me of the ephemeral nature of life.  Of bodies, words, ideologies.    Flesh changes throughout our lives, a constant reminder of change.  Once tight it becomes thinner but also softer, revealing new worlds beneath.  Discovery always awaits attention.

I recommend this exhibit which ends December 31st.  It’s truly beautiful and thought-provoking.

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casting spells of liberation

He found this tiny black feather and gave it to me.  He said he thought it was a crow feather and told me not to cast a spell with it.  Ha!  I told him that even if I did cast a spell, it would be good magic, it would be in service to love and liberation.

So here we go.  Let’s cast a little spell together.   I’ve put the feather on a piece of art infused with intention.  A little bricolage.  This is similar to the mantra my yoga teacher said in hot yoga the other day. A spell is a prayer is a mantra.

May all beings be peaceful.
May all beings be happy.
May all beings be well.
May all beings be safe.
May all beings be wild and free.

And so it is.