I'm currently working on a project that I started years ago and then had "material issues" in that I couldn't find a good way to print the words in my artist book. I recently found a way to learn Letterpress printmaking and am resuscitating this poem of sorts for this new artist book. I am in the process of setting the type for the "wordy" part.
Lovely! And it does beg for an image (or twenty). Doing letterpress sounds like so much fun. This poem makes me long for winter, though at the moment I’d settle for another day where the temps aren’t triple digits (only 99° for the fall equinox here in central Texas). Visions of long sleeves dancing in my head….
True confession: I went to World Market today and bought two Christmas ornaments—and hung them on cabinet doors. Desperate measures are called for!! :-)
Thank you so much! My forte is usually the images, but I am experimenting more and more with words, and now with the possibility to actually print them - the world's my oyster!
Yeah, that's a bummer. We only have two options for sharing work on Substack: chat (which few people on THE Raft seem to use) and "leave comment" (more popular). Only chat includes ability to show photos. So, at least for now, no good option. Sorry. I'm hoping that Substack comes up with a better way of sharing. In the meantime, I'll be eliminating Rafter Bazaar at the end of the month, as it isn't working well enough.
I'll get the ball rolling with "Mother Tree," a poem I wrote earlier this year. I'm currently experimenting with how to put the poem on a piece of birch bark. Then I'll mat and frame it. I'll try to take photos of that process to share. The poem's line breaks are changing as I play with the bark, so don't hold me to them!
I'm currently working on a project that I started years ago and then had "material issues" in that I couldn't find a good way to print the words in my artist book. I recently found a way to learn Letterpress printmaking and am resuscitating this poem of sorts for this new artist book. I am in the process of setting the type for the "wordy" part.
Winter Mantra
The smell of freshly cut apples,
the crackle of a beginning fire
and the warmth from the stove.
Footprints, tracks and snow angels in the snow,
And just snow!
Falling, driving, dancing in the wind.
Bright red berries, heavy quilts
and cardinals at the feeder,
the glow of beeswax candles
lighting our corner of the dark solstice.
Lovely! And it does beg for an image (or twenty). Doing letterpress sounds like so much fun. This poem makes me long for winter, though at the moment I’d settle for another day where the temps aren’t triple digits (only 99° for the fall equinox here in central Texas). Visions of long sleeves dancing in my head….
I find images of winter really help when the weather is too hot for me!
True confession: I went to World Market today and bought two Christmas ornaments—and hung them on cabinet doors. Desperate measures are called for!! :-)
Love it!!! It's never too early for the Holiday Spirit!
That heat sounds miserable. May cooler weather come soon!
Way to persevere, Katharina! I love all the sensory details in this . . .
Thank you so much! My forte is usually the images, but I am experimenting more and more with words, and now with the possibility to actually print them - the world's my oyster!
I can hear the joy! Woohoo!
I'm trying to post a photo but it's not an option here this time.
Yeah, that's a bummer. We only have two options for sharing work on Substack: chat (which few people on THE Raft seem to use) and "leave comment" (more popular). Only chat includes ability to show photos. So, at least for now, no good option. Sorry. I'm hoping that Substack comes up with a better way of sharing. In the meantime, I'll be eliminating Rafter Bazaar at the end of the month, as it isn't working well enough.
That's a shame...I really look forward to this. Why do you think people aren't taking to it?
Can't really say. I'm not totally giving up, but the time isn't ripe.
I'll get the ball rolling with "Mother Tree," a poem I wrote earlier this year. I'm currently experimenting with how to put the poem on a piece of birch bark. Then I'll mat and frame it. I'll try to take photos of that process to share. The poem's line breaks are changing as I play with the bark, so don't hold me to them!
MOTHER TREE
Phyllis Cole-Dai
Move inward from my
bark to my heartwood.
Count my rings as you
go, the record of my years,
chronicle of my seasons:
sunshine and shade, heat
and cold, drought and rain,
fire that scarred me, lightning
that split me open, insects
that stripped me bare.
The bending to stay upright.
The sickness and ache.
And the bouncing back.
The impossible revival.
Bands of light and dark.
Some thin, some thick,
some right, some wrong.
Loved, it all belongs.
The rings you find in me
you will find in other mothers.
We root our feet in the same land,
lift our arms toward the same sky.
Don’t think us separate
because we stand apart.
And don’t think our rings reveal
all that we are. We never stop
growing, even after we fall.