Summer Solstice 2026

 

I love to print says 

new sticker on my iPad 

reviving old love

All I seem to think about these days is getting into the Pa'a print studio and working, I've become an active member spending 2 to 3 days a week working on varied print techniques for cards and journals and books. I have a challenging book project ongoing, but I am fascinated with new techniques and materials and tools so I go around in many circles. A familiar world that is also a place of discovery. I like being a perpetual beginner.

officially I'm

84 this fire horse year

surprising honor

My wonderful poetry group had a project in May for each to write our own bio in verse, digging back into poems on this blog I've pulled out pieces, added haiku, and joined them together in my bio:

May, 2026

*Waving to you from Molokai

Reflection distorts

the story I tell you may, or

may not, still be true

1. (Cocoon)

I try to write a poem as precise as a Sudoku puzzle

To be complete every row will add up 
as will every stanza, each syllable counted.

Before I can complete this poem 
two syllables join into 

butterfly wings, pulling along an article 

or punctuation mark, they fly

Following in random order 

all the syllables lift off the page gracefully in pairs

I stand surrounded, they swirl in me and

re-emerge as poems of delight

2. (Vertigo)

One crystal with improbable charisma

takes my body out on wildcat strike

with no demands or path to settlement.

Motion impossible, sight skewed,

stomach in turmoil

I surrender immediately.

But no matter if I resist or not, chaos overwhelms.

At last I find a train of thought,

mostly negative,

but coherent.

Three days lost.

Today, the fourth, late afternoon,

I pick up pen and start to negotiate.

3. (Ode to Pain - 4th stanza)

What is left? 

Memories yes, 

satisfaction with my decisions

joy of questioning/solving problems

gratitude for chosen home

surprise of new ideas, especially my own, 

but

this too will pass. 

All we can do, according to Ram Dass, is

‘walk each other home’

I have collected

many masks but no disguise -

nothing now to hide

4. (O 2 K - 5th stanza)

I live in the illusion that I still have enough time

Time to sit in the sunshine. 

Time to contribute beauty to the world. 

Time to mentor / pass on what I've learned.

Time to laugh. 

Time to give thought to real problems. 

Time to sort out the clutter. 

Time to show gratitude. 

Time to remember all the places that fill my life, 

and time to wonder at the progression from there to here, 

from Oconomowoc  to  Kaunakakai (WI 2 HI)

my good enough life

nearing the last soft hurrah

scattering of whims

#

1. My head is a colorful cocoon (blog post summer 2019)
2. Vertigo (blog post winter 2018)
3. Ode To My Pain -  (blog post fall 2022]
4. O 2 K -   (blog post summer 2018)

whereisra.blogspot.com

 

Spring Equinox 2026

 

"A year of wonder"

surprise 

It's another day

And we are here to greet it

Promise of 365 more

But no guarantee

One at a time allotment

We can live this day

Or while it away

free choice no judgement 

three passions 

poetry, printmaking 

protests: my lifelong passions 

keep coming around

MONO-PRINTS

6x5" and 6.5x8"

COLLAGE, PRINT, PEN-INK, PENCIL
16x13" framed   22x18" unframed

FROM MS. LIBERTY SERIES

18x14"   13x16"

my first completed print project

4 x 6" Permission Slips

far from perfect, but fun

under the line it says 'fill in the blank'

Besides protesting in the streets against ICE and war and dictators

I have two new passions filling my life - revived passions actually:

I've joined a new artist printmaking studio in town, with a talented and active group of artists; also an online poetry group that I'm just getting to know but already inspired by. We set a challenge for ourselves this month to memorize a poem. This came out of a discussion of experiences that are going extinct (like cursive handwriting, memorizing poems used to be a common practice - I remember my grandfather would recite long poems). I chose Grace Paley's poem Responsibility from her collection titled Begin Again. It's just under 300 words, so not really long, but it has been a wonderful exercise in focusing. I realized I have never memorized one of my own poems, so that will be my next task. Her poem about responsibility did remind me of one I wrote six years ago that I will reprint for you here.

Poets Job Description

Paint an iridescent metaphor, build magic with words.

Articulate, tell us what you mean.

Enough of this ho-hum, maybe this, maybe that.

Put on the tragic mask and have us all in tears.

Can you enrage us, move us to mob action? Any action . . .

Don the comic mask and proclaim the absurdity of life. When else can you strut and storm if not now? The leaders lie and lie about lying. Make us laugh as if it doesn’t matter.

Hold up the mirror, force us to acknowledge the mask we wear. Reflect our truth, positive or not. Make it okay to go on living. Reclaiming our humanity.

Yours is an immense task, perhaps impossible.

The mask will help.

Summer 2020

ca 1980 - February 2026

backyard Cashew Tree

I miss it daily

it was a wonder and a delight