side by side

Posted on May 24, 2016 by AM Roselli

we hope our children view the world through rose-colored glasses
pray they live well, so their buckets won’t need lists
we’ll try to respect their deep-seated thoughts
and teach them to respect those who have gone before
they must always believe they’re more magical than mermaids
and understand playing dress-up is fabulous, as long as they remain young at heart
we’ll tell them it’s okay to think upside down
and they’re the apples of our eyes
and when the world gets too big, they can hide under a blanket
and that same big world is full of wonderment
we’ll let them sit in a red chair and do absolutely nothing
and tell them they don’t have to smile all the time
as long as they keep their heads above water
we’ll hope they love each other enough to hang out upside down
and sideways
but above all that they’ve learned–
love simply means standing side by side
with Caroline attending college this fall, and Max a high school junior come September, I’ve been waxing nostalgic
I published this post last year but have been thinking about it lately
damn, time wearing his ankle wings and over-priced Nikes sure does fly

bella Carmella

Posted on May 8, 2016 by AM Roselli

when I mock sing
Italian opera
I think of you
your voice
gorgeous and liquid
transcends she does
her bella Carmella voice
her fantastic smile
the young life in those enchanted eyes
out glittering the sparkly attire she enjoys wearing
brighter still the personality beneath those bedazzled fabrics
effervescent in style
in life
spirited as a child
loving
genuine embraces
warmer than any Paul Bunyan’s giant arms could offer
endlessly enchanted am I
of you
your zeal, your zest
passion beyond anything I might ever acquire
but continually strive for
because you are relentless
in your drive for motion
learning
learned
stunning in beauty
still
out, in and all about
and when I mock sing
Italian opera
this year
I will do so in Italian
the language of my ancestors
I’m enrolling in
bella Carmella’s autumn Italian class
for beginners
ready am I to learn
from the most fabulous woman
in my world

I adore you
mother of mine
xoxo
Carmella, 80 years of age pictured here

oatmeal domination

Posted on February 5, 2016 by AM Roselli

somewhere in the universe
beastly animatronic appendages
dragging empty buckets the size of blue whales
scoop up wild oats more numerous than grains of sand
they dump these omnipotent hauls
into two monumental receptacles
the first –
is a sweet, crunchy place decorated in swirly G’s
where smells of cinnamon and dehydrated fruits abound
the second – mind you,
casts a far more intimidating shadow
it is a dark, mysterious warehouse
where rancid pigment and gooey binder can be sniffed for miles
it is deep within the bowels of this cloaked place
that all institutional paint is manufactured
and the nefarious beings behind this demon depository
have but one scheme in mind
oatmeal domination
these ill-natured possessors will not rest
until the interior of every hospital, recovery outpost and learning facility
has been impossibly plastered in their colorless aberration
depressing, hideous, stomach-churning
oatmeal paint
ten-minute sketch while my mother-in-law slept in hospital bed yesterday
she survived cancer number 4 – a tumor was removed from her bladder, all seems well
she is home now happy, drinking lots of water and enjoying her colorful walls filled with beautiful things
those oatmeal-colored hospital walls are a thing of the past
but her care – doctors, nurses and all involved – was fantastic – wonderful people

the antithesis of wisdom

Posted on November 15, 2015 by AM Roselli

I don’t agree with Golding
I believe there is tremendous capacity for Good
innate human Kindness
though Survival is instinctual
education is the bedrock of Peace
Savagery is learned too
but it is the antithesis of wisdom
in William Golding’s novel, Lord of the Flies, the wild boar’s head symbolizes the devil…
The big son is currently reading this novel in school though he’s read it many times before.
This head was made for a class project.
It’s constructed with a large styrofoam ball, a plastic cup, a partial cat mask, sponge pieces for filler, oodles of duct tape to hold all this crap together then covered in clay and painted…it was quite fun to art direct 😉

the tipping point

Posted on November 4, 2015 by AM Roselli

the tipping point
there is one
and this is it
spinning on sharp hair
like a top
waiting to see which way
the body falls
I can already hear the thud
welcome music to my ears
eyes finally close
rest now
you’ll spin again
tomorrow

leonada’s earring

These Faces

Posted on September 13, 2015 by AM Roselli

Did I ever see my children
as these faces I see now
My eyes periscope across the ocean of manila brown desks
I’m thinking many thoughts
especially how to remain afloat today
and not sink like a sub
The endless falsetto voices lost in the banter of youth
are not affected by the tepid grey tile and dull institutional cinder block
as am I
On these first days
when teachers gaze across that sea of bright, clear eyes
do they see my children
as I see them
Not evaluating as an instructor
but visualizing with the hopeful heart of a parent
I wonder

Max and Caroline

painted oh, so long ago

In my six years as a substitute teacher for all grade levels, just about every teacher I’ve had the honor of working with goes above and beyond what is expected, in an ever changing educational environment. Teachers are a compassionate group. Many educators’ patience is wider than an ocean of manila brown desks.

the other side of the rainbow

Posted on August 31, 2015 by AM Roselli

“we’ll find a way of forgiving”
is this true
wouldn’t that be beautiful
not to end
in hatred
but to persevere
in love
“somewhere over the rainbow”
because we can’t stay on this side anymore
we learn to cherish
internal not eternal beauty
of children
of people
of humanity
that rainbow keeps looking better
on the other side
green lush, pure blue
conflicts end with handshakes
not burning holes
what color there would be
what a brilliant world we could live in
we’re but one side away
if only

Simon Says Peace

Created last year for a dear blogger friend–Simon Tocclo, a man of action trying to affect genuine change in Liberia. Among his many social platforms, Simon can also be found through his blog, Liberian Me

“We’ll find a way of forgiving,” borrowed from, West Side Story
“Somewhere over the rainbow,” borrowed from, The Wizard of Oz

maternal nightmares

Posted on August 6, 2015 by AM Roselli

little witch babies and tormenting black skies
gusting wind
long dark dresses swinging like death bells
a frail newborn with antlers growing
crying out as it tries to lift its weak neck
ocean-deep in salted sweat
those early months

panicking…

a pink infant
without bony deciduous growth
or skull-sunken cheeks
seventeen Halloween moons gone by since,
those first seconds
one more fall harvest
until her
perfect little face departs

dreaming…

scary baby mask, mixed media rendered a few weeks back…
the first time I was pregnant: during the first trimester, I had many bizarre dreams–some were nightmarish, others surreal like Dali paintings…my oldest is now 17 and college planning is on, lots of positive dreaming 🙂

Interview With Miss A (Vampire)

Posted on June 22, 2015 by AM Roselli

Another school year is coming to a close. Another year of substitute teaching done and over. Before the year completely ends, I’d like to share an old post written last year when some fifth grade boys were concerned that their substitute teacher was a vampire…

Interview With Miss A (Vampire)

Having blood-sucking on the brain (and not because of the Twilight saga–though I’ll admit I enjoyed), I searched my studio folders for Him. I scoured my old Prentice Hall files. When I was a new Mac user learning Illustrator, I drew everything employed old-fashioned hand-eye coordination with a mouse and a prayer.

That year I’d also read, Interview With The Vampire, by the immortal’s mortal, Anne Rice. Her words were composed of cold flesh. Blood flowed between the rivers of white on her pages. I hated Ms. Rice. I was in awe of Ms. Rice. This ‘Interview’ creeped me out like no other book… Everywhere I traveled, Lestat stalked me with his mesmerizing lost eyes, black sinewy veins and pale moon skin.

He was one of my first ventures into computer portraiture. I had no choice but to create Him. He wouldn’t leave my mind. He was a tormenting fellow. He’d bite me nightly and I suffer daily for it. He was the awesome Vampire Lestat. Once I created Him, He no longer haunted my dreams.
I was recently subbing in a fifth grade class. At lunchtime, I noticed a handful of lads with perplexed expressions staring at me. I approached the group to make sure everything was okay. One boy–the ring leader–studied me a moment before asking, “Miss A, are you a vampire?”
Before I could respond he continued, “Why do you have such sharp black eyebrows, long black hair and pointy teeth?” (my incisors are a tad sharp-looking).

I jokingly responded, “YES!” But, then quickly clarified, “Just kidding,” when they started wrapping napkins around their jugulars. The last thing I needed was for a child to go home and say, “my sub was a vampire.”

Later, I contemplated what the fifth grader had asked me. I thought about the boys’ nervous expressions–and I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered or insulted.

life is a line

Posted on April 20, 2015 by AM Roselli

we sometimes spend our lives concerned over –
being first on line
choosing the right path
towing the line
being offline
being online
going down the wrong road
border lines
bylines
lineups
crossing the line
traffic lines
skylines
tree lines
the waterline
the shoreline
outlines
tan lines
following dotted lines
our waistlines
defense lines
taking the shortest line
getting wires crossed or knotted up
sniffing lines
hem lines
panty lines
firing lines
signing on the line
communication lines
wrinkle lines
writing lines
lines of demarcation
timelines
fault lines
waiting in line
making headlines, avoiding them
picket lines
yellow lines
assembly lines
coloring in the lines
cutting on the lines
perfect lines
making beelines
memorizing lines
first lines
last lines
stepping out of line
lining up
drawing lines in the sand
pickup lines
party lines
lines of crap
a line of bullshit
lifelines…
the only line missing
is the only line that matters
it is the line cut into our flesh upon conception
the thin, supple line that separates our life from our death