Tis the time – tis the season – this Christmas Season – let it be – FIERCE JOY – we spread towards those who shun kindness, humanity, and you know – all the ideals we as humans should hold as close as Jacob Marley’s chains…
peace, love
happy holidays
am:)
but you can call her Alice. I based Alice on an illustration I created a few years back. It was challenging and quite liberating breaking this alien-mermaid out of her 2D paper-prison.
Diggi Lann, or Alice, as we affectionately call her here in Pine Bush, NY, home to northeast alien abductions and encounters, is a loving soul…❤️
The element of water mesmerizes those in its sight, extraterrestrials strive for knowledge and community, together, these two wield the awesome power of PEACE.☮️
hope you’re all managing along
am🌎
This is Barney. He was created with 25 lbs of air dry clay. This is my third creature sculpt – and to-date I’ve learned 1,000 ways how not to sculpt. Working toward 1,000 more…
How I wish I could waken him and send him to D.C. – Barney enjoys eating orange men whose chests beat with dark hearts…
“With all the darkness that’s going on the world, you can look at the darkness, just
don’t stare. It will make you crazy. It will make you cross eyed. It will make you
what it is. The solution is to create magic, dance, sing, love. Create environments
where you can create joy. Because you can create joy.” —RuPaul
Occasionally and sometimes often, I remind myself why it is that I create critters and creatures from the comfort of a warm and comfortable studio, sleeping dachshund at my feet, food in the fridge, clean water at my disposal (for now…) while man’s madness blinds him to the fires burning the land, the books, the beauty, the ballot boxes, the bridges, the rainbows…
very excited to have my poem, the pegasus clock in ICU15, appear in this excellent zine!
while you’re there check out fellow poet, Robert Okaji’s prize winning piece, A Further Response from the Hornet’s Nest
The Pegasus Clock in ICU15
such ridiculous tools. as if words could fix a bleeding brain.
preordained fabric dividers meant to separate us if you die.
divert eyes staring at the clock. remember I’d told you the
stories. oversized book. water-washed illustrations. pegasus,
my benevolent savior. the man in golden sandals flies me away.
clouds disconnect from bleached cotton and plastic pillows
sweating the sick. sister mary sometimes foiled my library day
with the winged horse. give someone else a turn annmarie. you
can’t take the book every thursday. blinded by Christian light she
couldn’t comprehend pegasus and me needling defeat between
fetlock and toe. so much tubing here. how many times might it
circle the world? fall risk wrapped around your wrist. i remember
periwinkle choir robes. living angel singing out with bright lips.
mom, please wake up. Use your words. Use your voice. the
pegasus clock in ICU15 stammers. his magnificent wings
unfurl. shimmering feathers brush away these hideous blinking
lights and institutional grey floors. fly it all away.
my beautiful Rocky dog gone now for three years, believe it or not, he was a real pussycat 😘
After experiencing several monster-sized issues, my eBook is now available. Truth be told, post-problems it was ready in late January, but at the time, I had not the heart to promote it. So without further ado – some new illustrations and a new poem too – love of the monster – is yours for the downloading (oh and a tiny $2.99)
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
anntogether 