Leave a comment in the comments section if you would like to join this blog. Serious writers, artists and photographers welcome. All inappropriate material will be removed.

Brilliance Afield

Brilliance Afield

Burning the wild lands, the moon rises gold; gold the eyes of wolves

Running in a rapid crouch up the snowy hill.  Exhaling,

I slip into the aspens, follow their tracks into a threshold of

Light under the firs.  The moon squats fat among them. I

Linger and watch, afraid.  Discard the fantasy that

I could be accepted, that I could be safe, that I could run.  With them.

A screech of owl cries. Wolves sing: close chorus, far response.

Nothing contains the fierce sacredness of this music.  I want to

Call back from this hidden body.  I pluck a tuft of fur from a drift,

Embrace bare branches, moon-bruised sky.  In

A cloud-smudged mirror of ice, shadows flicker, a broke

Face of moon shimmers.  I whisper: elk, caribou, antelope.  Stubbornly,

I reclaim the dream of hunting with the wolves.  Oh folly!  Will I return to this

Evening over and over, sifting through these images, lies and dreams?

Late-night owl calls again.  Wolf tracks fade in drifting snow.  I glimpse

Deer, then fox.  Braid my tracks into theirs.

Notes:
1)This is an Acrostic poem. Acrostics are often used as games or doggerel. I have chosen here to attempt a serious acrostic poem. 
2)I would like to invite anyone interested to "play along" by writing serious (or not-so serious) acrostic poems and then posting the links in my comments section. I am sure you all know that in an acrostic poem, the first letter of each line creates a word when read vertically. It is a fun way to write about love or friendship or any other topic.
3)Poem and art by me, Mary Stebbins Taitt, published in Avocet. I'd love to think all of you subscribe to Avocet and have already read my poem, but I am guessing that is not the case. Because published poems are often read only by those who subscribe, I think I may post one of my published poems, maybe once a week, to share them with you. I hope that's OK.

kinetic

pix of the kinetic sculpture race in Arcata. The dragon and chicken were back from previous years, but new on the scene was "Octomom."  Leaf Lady (Gail)

more sculptures

Here are a couple kinetic sculptures, plus another shot of that awesome dragon.  LeafLady (Gail)

Introducing Lori Epperson

Silk Creek Review and Bloodroot Z have a new assistant editor! YAY! Her name is Lori Epperson and she is a talented artist, photographer and poet who will be guiding our Zines to new heights! You can learn about her here and here.

123 Acrostic Poetry meme

H-Acrostic 123 Poetry Meme

This is for Andree, it's a variation on the page 123 meme for
poets--anyone can do it but it does take some time. I did this today,
this morning, but I recommend taking more time with it for best
results.

1)choose a book (mine is Marge Piercy's Three Women (Excellent book!)
2)go to P 123, Look for the first interesting word or phrase:
"Increasingly Silent All Day" (you can go on to the next page if
necessary)(Short words are quicker!)

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V
W X Y Z
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22
23 24 25 26

For each letter of your word or phrase, add that letters number of
pages and count down that letter's number of lines and write down the
first interesting phrase BEGINNING with the LETTER. Continuing adding
pages, and if you get to end, continue from the beginning. Or just
open any page randomly. Do NOT use a poetry book.

I=123+9= 132 p132, 9 lines down: insane desire to flee, to run off
into the misty morning and vanish
N=132+14=146, p 146, 14 lines down: nothing else, she waited until
Monday afternoon when everyone else was out of the house.
C=146+3=149, p149, 3 lines down: could no longer handle ordinary (clothes)
R=149+19=168, p168, 19 lines down: religiously, full of tales and dreams
E=168+5=173, p173, 5 lines down: Expect the brightest spot in her life
A: All he needed he could fit in a backpack
S: Sensible and cool. She liked to keep him on edge
I: I'm good for you, I only have to charm everyone, it was the
excitement she craved
N: Nothing's going on, not something she should spring on him, not fat
G: gently by the elbows as if she might fly apart. Grinning

S: Stood staring, seeing through her lashes. Scared. Bleak
I: I was innocent. I was depressed
L: Love had been a roaring inside her
E: Enjoy other people's pretend lives
C: Coward. Failure. Tried to kill herself.
E: Eyelids fluttered several times. Opened a slit. Moaned.

(Yours of course will look different.)

Now comes the hard poetry part. Now that you have a start, you can
change anything you want, look up new phrases. You can keep the
acrostic form, but if you do, try to make it not be obvious. Or get
rid of it. Revise and Edit till you have a poem. Feeel free to take
a week or two at least with this meme. Try to keep at least some part
of the original words or phrases.

Increasing Silence

I want to flee, to run off insane into the misty morning and vanish as if
nothing else mattered, as if everyone was gone from my life, as if I
could no longer handle ordinary relationships, as if love didn't
exist. I am not
religious, but spiritual maybe and full of tales, dreams and fantasies, always
expecting love to be the brightest spot in my life, and full of
laughter. If only
all I needed could fit in a backpack. If I could just be
sensible and calm. But life keeps me on edge. Remember love? Why can
I no longer charm you? Once I craved excitement, adventure.
Now, nothing happens. At bedtime, only sleep. Not even sleep. Hold me
gently by the elbows—I might fly apart. Stop frowning. I'm

scared. And bleak. I stand staring, seeing your lips through wet lashes.
I'm not innocent. I'm depressed, angry, hurt. Lonely.
Love roars inside me. Of course I still love you. But I don't
enjoy pretend lives, and silence! Distances. Touch me. Am I a
coward? A failure? I want the opposite of suicide. Give me life! Kiss my
eyelids! Butterfly kisses, moans of delight. Shhh, just hold me.

And here's another:

Complaints

Crazy you mutter the blues festival city's a mess ugh such a mob you look
over the boisterous crowd from a frowning face frown more deeply your
main gripe's the noise the surging swarm of humanity your
principle goal's to keep from slipping into the unruly streets
listen blues and laughter shrieks of joy but you shrink back
anticipate jostling pickpockets thieves and hustlers
insist always on security on your own way you would
never admit you'd prefer to hide inside turn on the TV watch the whole
thing canned later say yes you saw the sweat on the bass player's lip come on
stop grumbling lean closer enjoy with me this dancing pageant of people.

(Both poems by me, Mary Stebbins Taitt. the first one is brand new.)
the H in H-Acrostic is from HARVESTED--meaning you start with harvested phrases.

The robin is from Thursday--they've been here about two weeks now.

I tag Andree, Michael, Pam, Leaf Lady and anyone esle who would like
to play along.

Leap

Leap, by mary Stebbins Taitt. Another from the series.

Skyelab

From the "Skyelab Studio" and home of Laurel Skye, the woman who taught my mosaic class.  These show the studio at the side of the house, and the little pond in front.  Leaflady

Bloodroot Z II

  

Christa Kitties

by Pea and Christa Corpus. 

Jazz Night

Jazz Night, photo by Mary Stebbins. Click on image to see larger.

Leave a comment if you would like to join this blog and post your (appropriate) photos. 

Foots

Foots, by Harry Teichert. Click on Photo to see Larger 

"Chimbleys"

"Chimbleys," By Harry Teichert

click on the photo to see larger.

Dance of Joy

Elation, Dance of Joy, photoart by Mary Stebbins. This is a variation of a picture posted at IMAGIK and BP.

click on the photo to see larger. 

What is Youth, by Ann Ballard

What is Youth?

by Ann Ballard (BloodrootZ Nonfiction Editor)

Youth deals not with age in years

It comes from what we are inside

It lives within the spirit and soul

And grows with new experiences tried

Youth is not a physical thing

A challenged body plays no part

It’s life and love, laughter and tears

It is what lives in soul and heart

Love stays young and spirit smart

Without a perfect physical shell

When soul and heart continue to seek

Stimulation in life, and apathy quell

Spirit can leap and dance and sing

The mortal body may not keep pace

It matters not what the body does

Spirit is life, youth’s saving grace

(This was previously published online as part of the Northwestern University Writers' Project circa 1999)

Mick Mather Opening

WHO: Mick Mather

WHAT: "The Great New York State Fair Series" an exhibition of digital prints - manipulated
photographs taken at The Fair in August 2004

view the invitation post card

WHERE: The Westcott Community Center Art Gallery, corner of Wetscott Street at Euclid Avenue

WHEN: Saturday, October 1st, 6:00pm to 8:00pm

WHY: Because we ALL need an ART NIGHT

HOW: Drive, walk, hitchhike, catch a cab, ride the bus


MICK SEZ: "Most of you who know me already understand that I'm an active participant in the
arts & cultural community of Central New York. This is important to me and I would like to
think that my presence at your exhibitions and openings over the years was been important to
you. In the spirit of strengthening this community of artists, patrons, friends and all those
interested in the arts, I trust that you will take an hour to visit me and my artwork on
October 1st."

A Blog for BloodrootZ

This blog is a portal to the Zine, BloodrootZ. We, the editors and readers will post here for you and you can join and post your work. It is not an avenue for submission to the Zine!

If you would like to submit, please send your submissions to:

bloodrootz@gmail.com.

Watch here for more information.