Breathing Life into Venus, Breathing Life into Self by Tereza Swanda
“Breathing Life into Venus, Breathing Life into Self” by Tereza Swanda What does my writing/art mean to me? It’s freedom. No boundaries, no frame. An investment into play, knowing that if I just let ‘self’ go, the fluidity of paint creates not only the image but something much more: a relationship between me, the paint, and the viewer, something eternal, a trace, a memory, a feeling,...
Abandoned Garden by Ellaraine Lockie
“Abandoned Garden” by Ellaraine Lockie Lying on the long side of time a partially buried Meissen vase Crackled like paper crunched in the fist of an accident Its mouth growing sweet peas and pansies A pioneer woman’s attempt to civilize an untamed land As though she were out gathering a bouquet for a quilting bee in her homestead house when some tragedy befell her The house now as much a ghost as she...
The Hollow by Juanita Kirton
“The Hollow” by Juanita Kirton (shadow of depression is long stretched across my waist a rubber band taut) on the precipice of the depression squeezed tight hours of light rare darkness creeps closer circling knotted breath help from doctors meds advise her meditate walk pet a dog unmask the shame the suffering tumbling traumatized...
Take by Taylor Pate
“Take” by Taylor Pate It is never too late to accomplish your goals or discover who you are meant to be. It is always the right time to take action, to take a chance on yourself rather than to let the world take from you. ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here Taylor Pate Artist Statement: I am an artist, specializing in painting and drawing, with my creative roots...
Needles by Cheryl Passanisi
“Needles” by Cheryl Passanisi The consequences often involve blood – in my childhood needles were essential, I was given a needle and taught embroidery as a young child and would often poke myself drawing blood, eliciting tears, or the needle dad sterilized with a match to pick out my splinter or all those fairy tales with needles and blood or my grandmother’s knitting needles used to knit us all sweaters,...
The Quiet Roar Like Thunder by Katie Kelleher
“The Quiet Roar Like Thunder” by Katie Kelleher This piece is for the quiet power of the introvert. It speaks to the grace and beauty in observation, thinking, and leadership by example over force. It is the fierceness that is unexpected, resilient, and just. It is about coming into your own power in your own time. ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here ...
The Plum Orphan of Death Fish Bulleted by Shannon Patenoude
“The Plum Orphan of Death Fish Bulleted” by Shannon Patenoude The forest was a collection of plum trees and conifers intertwined in a chaotic mix of vines and rotting leaves which feed the viciously carnivorous insects that inhabited it. Don’t get me wrong, there were other things that lived in the place that encroached this part of the city. Take, for example, deep within was a cabin where I once spent a summer: It is a...
The Day I Reclaimed My Power by Deborah Harris
“The Day I Reclaimed My Power” by Deborah Harris When I can no longer put it off I find myself laying down Tense and anxious to get It over With A hand starts moving over my body Over things That are technically Just skin “I am ready,” I say And I hold my breath And try to curl myself up as Small As I can While My Self Vacates the premises And does not Return Until after It Is over The reclamation of my power Begins As...
Control by Shirani Rajapakse
“Control” by Shirani Rajapakse He tells me my hair isn’t right, straighten it, that’s the fashion. When I do, he’s not satisfied. Rain never falls in straight lines, there are always breaks, pauses between raindrops like hyphens tumbling from the sky. He tells me my hair’s too short, grow it long and thick, tie it back in a braid to fall along the contours of my spine. Women should not look like men. They...
Into the Universe by Hariclia Michailidou
“Into the Universe” by Hariclia Michailidou ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here Hariclia Michailidou Artist Statement: What does my writing/art mean to me? necessity passion to love beauty first beauty last In sum, this work is about: our cosmic beginning our cosmic destiny
Feminist Philosophy: Where do we go from here? by Alexandra Newton Rios
“Feminist Philosophy: Where do we go from here?” by Alexandra Newton Rios I now teach students who are learning Spanish the word desafio. A challenge in English. I have them reach beyond themselves. I try to teach them with firmness and tenderness … It is a desafio to think that my experience of overcoming machismo gives me the necessary depth to write an answer about feminist philosophy’s future. The desafio...
Imagery Uprooted by Karen Henninger
“Imagery Uprooted” by Karen Henninger ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here Karen Henninger Artist Statement: Creative Artist of Life, Visionary Visual Artist, Writer
Olive Wood Bowl by Penelope Schott
“Olive Wood Bowl” by Penelope Schott I hadn’t understood my breath until that long ago Friday night you tried to choke me, until tremulous lungs, wanting the whole sky, burned in my chest. Whatever you tried to strangle past shaping into words will still be true. Since that night I keep a small olive wood bowl containing all the air in the world. The bowl began as an ancient tree in a white landscape...
Bearded Fig Tree: A Symbol of Struggle and Survival by Elizabeth Best
“Bearded Fig Tree: A Symbol of Struggle and Survival” by Elizabeth Best In this work, nature becomes a narrative and testament to the Spirit that dwelt in my ancestors and kept them alive so that I might exist. The beard-like aerial roots falling from the Ficus citrifolia inspired Portuguese to give the island, Barbados, its name, Los Barbados, the bearded ones. Whereas others might see deformed...
Epiphany by Patricia S. Wild
“Epiphany” by Patricia S. Wild It begins in silence It lies in wait Curled inside us It keeps its secrets, breathless Then A small sound, a thought The faintest whisper It has awakened We sense…something Stirring, growing Then Like a cobra, a lightning strike, a match to tinder, a trickle turned torrent It unfurls, shatters, blazes Then We are blinded with light, a prismatic explosion, a glittering...
Touchstone by Michelle S. Campbell
“Touchstone” by Michelle S. Campbell I talk about you less I guess because I just want to leave with what I came with. Not an extra bag of emotions like all the other emotions to weigh me down. Just a clean and light step in another direction. Oh yeah, of course I was hoping you would pull up a chair and sit with me. Me with you. Offer me that coveted space at your table. A spot on the faded shelf of your...
Wingspan by Valérie Prot
“Wingspan” by Valérie Prot My creative identity is a way to live a parallel life. ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here Valérie Prot Artist Statement: Valérie Prot lives in France where she teaches English. As a kid, she used to live near an abbey tower that she had always considered as the center of her own compass. Now residing on the other riverbank, this is...
Unmeasurable Distance Spanning Between Us by Suzette Bishop
“Unmeasurable Distance Spanning Between Us” by Suzette Bishop I wonder if my Pokanoket ancestor Would tell me it’s good there’s a rattlesnake in my ceiling duct, Scold me for not helping it escape, Just leaving it there to disappear or die, Remind me I’m the invader, My condo complex, most of North Laredo, open ranch land When we first moved here over twenty years ago. McMansions, posh apartment complexes, and strip...
Prayer by Rozann Kraus
“Prayer” by Rozann Kraus at the foot of the hill I am the tree from the fold of the branch I am the leaf from the twine of the leaves I am the nest from the warmth of the nest I am the egg from the crack of the egg I am the bird from the wings of the bird I am the sky from the wild of the sky I am all breath deeply inhaling I birth all that is all that was all that is to come I am the hope that this is the...
Untitled by Marianne Murdock
“Untitled” by Marianne Murdock i’m trying to find someone as broken as i as depleted as ugly as grief-stricken as lost i see beauty i see light i see controlled light – my favorite i see hair silky, almost parted down the middle, brown hair and i think … that used to be me i see a horse sculpture and it captivates me i yearn for what you have ____________________ Share...
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Witness Nov 29, 2024
