“to live”

A March 2024 sketch done with a ridiculously large Ticonderoga preschooler pencil
“Little Karole” would blossom into a six-foot-tall, gorgeous woman who’d live an amazing life as a stained glass artist. And much later, she’d become my beautiful mother-in-law.

perhaps it is my 60 years of age inspiring the words below, it could be that the majority of my new friends, most in their 70’s and 80’s, continue to open my eyes in every direction but down

“to live”

I don’t believe the phrase “to live” means escaping our burdens

I don’t believe “to live” means transforming ourselves or collecting accolades

I don’t believe “to live” includes acquiring wealth or building empires  

I don’t believe “to live” means ignoring the past or focusing on the remaining years as we age

I never believe “to live” is expressed through curated media or grinning images

I do believe “to live” creates dubious comparisons of one against the other

I do believe the phrase “what it means to live” suffocates dreams before they begin

I do believe “to live” finding strength in our efforts amid others indifference

“to live” brave in our ‘individualness’ while accepting others in theirs

“to live” caring for ourselves so we can care for others

 “to live” stepping forward when we’ve lost someone behind us

And I always believe “to live for today” when it is tomorrow

am:)

Reconstruction Writing from My Kitchen Sink


Long ago, I began what I affectionately titled my ‘kitchen-sinking file’
an ever-growing repository to hold my murdered darlings —
the words I couldn’t jettison into the infinite, all-powerful,
sometimes destructive, and often just downright crappy
void of invisible voices

For this first short reconstructed piece, I wanted an environmental theme — Though the merged thoughts are depressing, this was an enjoyable exercise to do. I hope to create a few more of these pieces in the future.

Reconstruction 1:

NATURE VS US
we seem to be fighting against her

only one of us can emerge victorious

I.
while we busy ourselves engraving our legacies into granite
the concrete angel arms waiting for our bones fade away
beneath the ebb and flow of our disbelief

II.
DELETED as we delete the things we detest

III.
beyond the horizon, where the hot lands submerge
he rolls his great mane to rest upon the blackened grass south of the Sahara
      the great space around him vanishing as he sleeps

IV.
slipping and whipping down the burning slide
saddled to a cement slab in sun dried: Any Town,
Earth County
ZipZapped000

V.
obfuscators of earth’s guardianship whose clasped hands grip limitless wealth
      (go ahead, toss those deposit boxes and time capsules into the rising sea)

…and they tossed their wishing well coins

VI.
sometimes our beasts go silent
sometimes our beasts escape
most often they starve to death
despite their accumulated knowledge

VII.
long ago, a pregnant virgin cradled my childhood faith

VIII.
I must remember skating on Papa’s ice pond, and I must always pray for spring

——————————————————————————————-
captured footnote: X——-X
entry: byte.non–f (fire drive destroyed 2025/alt recovery file cap 219) 5Z 7K 24X: date doc//
October of the 6th route//2030
——-
archive:context txtvolume79033cvx130..:///Rational science had been crushed beneath the Mad Believers (4fT99)//and those by their side squatted on the world… during this period, fear and hate thrived and love un-lived
Entry200060002324//eventually The Mad Belief (ipsumibidMXCII1112) was forgotten ///recollected during nature’s self-purge/mankind no longer present… ———- end entry…datapoint…X
recording 54567 —–someone screaming on the floating island
collect years, savaged roots, where are you all???end transmis
/’’’tend the children well/’’’’’ they begged, sow seeds, plant saplings
you there – apologize for unsalvageable soil. unusable water
earth’s clock solar-powered
no backup
no backward
angels’ concrete dissolved

Hi there,
How I wish there was more love flooding the world rather than tidal waves.
Nonetheless, I’ve anchored the drywall in warm hues.
(Blue DragonUmp latex satin too depressing)
Here’s a brush of autumn color for your chilled porch.

artwork created a few years back, updated recently (snake & squirrel created with Prisma & watercolor marker, snake background created with Canva/fun program:))

From my dragon to yours

holidragondragon / dragons [ drag-uhnz]
noun

are cruel; bring good fortune; are the stuff of legend; are born of pre-scientific conjecture; are endangered; protect the gods; hide from man; are heart balms in stuffed lizards; are vicious plastic forms on gaming boards; have multiple heads; are purple singers with green polka dots; eat humans; protect mankind; have wings whether invisible or not; don’t do transactional relationships; are powerful cinematic stars; are shy; are pure of heart; have Sir Sean Connery’s voice; have honor; have the name Draco, Lachrymose or Puff; carry your fire.

Though their remarkable eyes are permanently shut, each vivid bright eye (they have two, they have twenty) follows you through a transparent scale. Your dragon always sees you even when you are alone in the world.


From my dragon to yours,

Merry Holidays to you and your loved ones

Be safe, be well, enjoy some flaming rum punch and never stop embracing your fire…

(image above – Holly Dragon makes an appearance every Christmas)

My Sister Grace

Screen Shot 2022-07-29 at 8.32.08 AMI have five extraordinary siblings out there in the world. For the last several years, my sister Grace has been photographing and collecting the journeys and the stories of other artists in the fine art world through her Pandora’s BoxX Project.

“The portraits of Pandora’s BoxX Project are visual documents representing womxn’s presence and impact throughout the arc of social and cultural change within the past six decades.” — Grace Roselli

Grace was recently interviewed by Karline Moeller of Art Frankly to share her own creative journey’s past, present and future. (Interview link here)
Interviewer, Karline Moeller, is the co-founder of Art Frankly: a platform for the international art world.

Grace’s artwork can be found in private collections in the US and Europe. Beyond her artistic talent, is an exceptionally dedicated and driven woman whose passion and commitment to the fine art world are nothing short of admirable.

Thank you for stopping by,
AnnMarie:)

Screen Shot 2022-07-30 at 8.11.59 AM

Sharing My Mask With You

So very honored to have my acrylic portrait, RED, included in, Shards, Glass Mountain’s online magazine.
Click text to visit this amazing journal!
Click image to go directly to, RED
I hope you are managing through these difficult days❤️

Inaugural Issue of Ailment – Chronicles of Illness Narratives

During these months of such uncertainty, creative expression is a beautiful release. It is an honor to have my poetry and art included in this gorgeous, thoughtful, inaugural issue of Ailment – Chronicles of Illness Narratives.(clicking here or on image also will take you to Ailment’s First Issue)
I hope you, your loved ones, and all people you know are managing the days and staying safe❤️

I sketched the three drawings that accompany my poems when visiting with my beautiful mother at the nursing home. These last few weeks have been difficult not visiting with her, but days when she manages to answer the phone we get to chat a little. The nursing home allows families to drop items off. I go once a week and drop off crullers, comics, and family photos with love notes. My mother is my touchstone. Since suffering her massive stroke, over two years now, she still never complains. She manages small smiles. I selfishly miss that glorious smile of hers, the one I so often brag about-her god-given movie star grin.❤️xo

thank you

if you want to check out Ailment’s website click here

Bessie’s Echo

While my darling daughter was checking out my ‘Published Writing and Art’ page, she informed me that many of the links no longer connected to the published pieces. In an effort to correct this, I went through the entire list and connected each piece to its corresponding blog page, as well as re-linking to the journal or site where each was published. This is the one that got away. It was published back in 2017, by ‘Miracles Magazine’ (A generous friend who still works for the magazine had asked me to submit work). I’m re-posting my poem, ‘Bessie’s Echo,’ so the link can be updated. Thank you.

 

Bessie’s Echo

in the distance
faceless proclamations bounce back and forth between the rush of cars

years ago
would’ve been herds of cattle trotting for lunch bells ‘cross the road

perched on
a yellow Adirondack chair on my front porch, I drink flavored seltzer from a tumbler pretending it’s Dom

spotted bovine hooves
only echos now     like dairy farmers spirits loading Bessie’s milk on old Erie railroad cars

bound for the city
retired clanks and clatters float toward the bright sun that once fed fat cows golden grass

little birds
with bright yellow bellies flit by my front porch saying their good nights

or goodbyes

cows

cropped portion of a sketch drawn about ten years ago, someday I must redo this little sketch, the dang eyes are lopsided!