HER-story:

With words and images, I am telling my story. Through art, through sculpture, I am remembering HERstory...
CASIMIRA

Sunday, September 9

new moon blessings


"The moon is a loyal companion.

It never leaves. 

It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. 

Every day it’s a different version of itself.

Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. 

The moon understands what it means to be human.

Uncertain.
 Alone. 
Cratered by imperfections."

― Tahereh Mafi

Saturday, September 8

your taste


"still a little bit of your taste in my mouth
still a little bit of you laced with my doubt... 
still a little bit of your ghost - your witness  
still a little bit of your face I haven't kissed...  
still a little bit of your song in my ear, 
still a little bit of your words I long to hear..."
- Damien Rice


excerpt from my journals, mixed media on canvas 

Friday, September 7

besarnos en la cara o en los labios


"Parece mentira,
Que después de tanto tiempo,
Rotos nuestros lazos,
Sigamos manteniendo la ilusión,
En nuestro aniversario.
La misma mesita,
Que nos ha visto amarrar,
Las manos por debajo,
Cuida que el rincón de siempre,
Permanezca reservado.
Y aunque la historia se acabó,
Hay algo vivo en ese amor,
Que aunque empeñados en soplar,
Hay llamas que ni con el mar.
Las flores de Mayo,
Poco a poco cederán,
A las patas de gallo,
Y nos buscaremos con los ojos,
Por si queda algo.
El siete de Septiembre,
Es nuestro aniversario,
Y no sabremos si besarnos,
En la cara o en los labios.
Y aunque la historia se acabó,
Hay algo vivo en ese amor,
Que aunque empeñados en soplar,
Hay llamas que ni con el mar.
El siete de Septiembre,
Es nuestro aniversario...
- Mecano

Thursday, September 6

curvature


"it's a lip thing with you.


the first time we met i could not


take my eyes off them.


you probably thought you had something 


in your teeth with the way i was staring.


i know their curvature like the reminiscent


smell of my mother.


give me a photograph of every mouth in the


world and i will pick yours out without question.


i do not have a religion but if i did it


would be them...


...they are what roses and mountains and oceans


could only hope to be.


with you it's a lip thing.


and then it became a heart thing.


and then soul.


and then all."


- Christopher Poindexter



Wednesday, September 5

no puedes por razones técnicas


"Look, I don't ask much, just your hand, to hold it...I need that door you gave me for coming into your world, that little chunk of green sugar, of a lucky ring. Can't you just spare me your hand tonight at the end of a year of hoarse-voiced-owls? You can't for technical reasons. So I weave it in the air, warping each finger, the silky peach of the palm and the back, that country of blue trees. That's how I take it and hold it, as if so much of the world depended on it..."
- Julio Cortázar translated by Stephen Kessler

the original version in Spanish always takes my breath away...

"Mira, no pido mucho, solamente tu mano, tenerla...Necesito esa puerta que me dabas para entrar a tu mundo, ese trocito de azúcar verde, de redondo alegre. No me prestas tu mano en esta noche de fin de año de lechuzas roncas? No puedes, por razones técnicas. Entonces la tramo en aire, urdiendo cada dedo, el durazno sedoso de la palma y el dorso, ese país de azules árboles. Así la tomo y la sostengo, como si de ello dependiera muchísimo del mundo..."
- Julio Cortázar 

Tuesday, September 4

this gentle sting between us


"I'm a fool for that shake in your thighs.

I'm a fool for that sound in your sighs.

I'm a fool for your belly.

I'm a fool for your love.

I want to make this plain.

Oh, I know your faded, but stay, don't close your eyes...

Caught in this pool held in your eyes.

Caught like a fool without a line.

We're in a natural spring,

With this gentle sting between us.

Stay, stay open..."

- RHYE

detail from mixed media on wood


Monday, September 3

por eso no te amo todavía


"Sabras que no te amo y que te amo
puesto que de dos modos es la vida,
la palabra es un ala del silencio,
el fuego tiene una mitad de frío.

Yo te amo para comenzar a amarte,
para recomenzar el infinito
y para no dejar de amarte nunca:
por eso no te amo todavía.

Te amo y no te amo como si tuviera
en mis manos las llaves de la dicha
y un incierto destino desdichado.

Mi amor tiene dos vidas para amarte.
Por eso te amo cuando no te amo
y por eso te amo cuando te amo."

- Pablo Neruda


...and in English...


"You must know that I do not love and that I love you,
because everything alive has its two sides;
a word is one wing of the silence,
fire has its cold half.

I love you in order to begin to love you,
to start infinity again
and never stop loving you:
that's why I do not love you yet.

I love you, and I do not love you, as if I held
keys in my hand:  to a future of joy --
a wretched, muddled fate --

My love has two lives, in order to love you:
that's why I love you when I do not love you,
and also why I love you when I do."

- Pablo Neruda translated by Stephen Tapscott

Sunday, September 2

Saturday, September 1

campana de agua de oro que nos prohibe la sóledad


My gorgeous father-in-law...

We listened to Peruvian music in his honor tonight. 

"La madrugada estalla como una estátua,

Como estátua de alas que se dispersan por la ciudad,

Y el mediodía cánta campana de agua,

Campana de agua de oro que nos prohibe la sóledad,

Y la noche levanta su copa larga,

Su larga copa larga, luna temprana por sobre el mar,

Pero para María no hay madrugada.

Pero para María no hay mediodía.

Pero para María ninguna luna.

Alza su copa roja sobre las aguas...

María no tiene tiempo (María Landó)
De alzar los ojos

María de alzar los ojos (María Landó)
Rotos de sueño

María rotos de sueño (María Landó)
De andar sufriendo

María de andar sufriendo (María Landó)
Sólo trabaja

María sólo trabaja, sólotrabaja, sólo trabaja

María sólo trabaja

Y su trabajo es ajeno

Pero para María no hay madrugada

Pero para María no hay mediodía

Pero para María ninguna luna

Alza su copa roja sobre las aguas..."

-  as sung by Susana Baca


Friday, August 31

mujer (one of two) mujer (two of two)




I was once again invited to submit current artwork for consideration and these two pieces were accepted to be part of 48th Annual Labor Day Art Show at Glen Echo Park.

"Mujer I" and "Mujer II" were created side by side in front of the ocean earlier this summer, with saltwater on my skin and sand in my hair. 

I have been sketching, doodling and painting these faces for decades. All of the women have large eyes, full lips and a wild mane. 

Each is a reminder to access and stay true to one's essence. The intimately sized works are mixed media on paper originals.





Thursday, August 30

can you love me?


"But can you love me in the deep? In the dark? In the thick of it?

Can you love me when I drink from the wrong bottle and slip through the crack in the floorboard?

Can you love me when I’m bigger than you, when my presence blazes like the sun does, when it hurts to look directly at me?

Can you love me then too?

Can you love me under the starry sky, shaved and smooth, my skin like liquid moonlight?

Can you love me when I am howling and furry, standing on my haunches, my lower lip stained with the blood of my last kill?

When I call down the lightning, when the sidewalks are singed by the soles of my feet, can you still love me then?

What happens when I freeze the land, and cause the dirt to harden over all the pomegranate seeds we’ve planted?

Will you trust that Spring will return?

Will you still believe me when I tell you I will become a raging river, and spill myself upon your dreams and call them to the surface of your life?

Can you trust me, even though you cannot tame me?

Can you love me, even though I am all that you fear and admire?

Will you fear my shifting shape?

Does it frighten you, when my eyes flash like your camera does?

Do you fear they will capture your soul?

Are you afraid to step into me?

The meat-eating plants and flowers armed with poisonous darts are not in my jungle to stop you from coming. Not you.

So do not worry. They belong to me, and I have invited you here.

Stay to the path revealed in the moonlight and arrive safely to the hut of Baba Yaga: the wild old wise one… she will not lead you astray if you are pure of heart.

You cannot be with the wild one if you fear the rumbling of the ground, the roar of a cascading river, the startling clap of thunder in the sky.

If you want to be safe, go back to your tiny room — the night sky is not for you.

If you want to be torn apart, come in. Be broken open and devoured. Be set ablaze in my fire.

I will not leave you as you have come: well dressed, in finely-threaded sweaters that keep out the cold.

I will leave you naked and biting. Leave you clawing at the sheets. Leave you surrounded by owls and hawks and flowers that only bloom when no one is watching.

So, come to me, and be healed in the unbearable lightness and darkness of all that you are.

There is nothing in you that can scare me. Nothing in you I will not use to make you great.

A wild woman is not a girlfriend. She is a relationship with nature. She is the source of all your primal desires, and she is the wild whipping wind that uproots the poisonous corn stalks on your neatly tilled farm.

She will plant pear trees in the wake of your disaster.

She will see to it that you shall rise again.

She is the lover who restored you to your own wild nature."

- Alison Nappi


snapshot of my eye



Wednesday, August 29

gonna make you


"...Intention I feel inventive,


Gonna make you, make you, make you notice -


Got motion restrained emotion...


No reason just seems so pleasing,


Gonna make you, make you, make you notice -

Gonna use my arms,


Gonna use my legs,


Gonna use my style,

Gonna use my sidestep,

Gonna use my fingers,

Gonna use my, my, my imagination -

'Cause I gonna make you see,


There's nobody else here,


No one like me,

I'm special so special,

I gotta have some of your attention give it to me -

Got rhythm I can't miss a beat...



Got something I'm winking at you,

Gonna make you, make you, make you notice...Give it to me..."

- The Pretenders

in an 80s mood




Tuesday, August 28

part of you pours out of me


Just before our love got lost you said -

"I am as constant as a northern star" and I said, 

"Constantly in the darkness -
Where's that at?...

Oh you are in my blood like holy wine -
You taste so bitter -
And so sweet oh -
I could drink a case of you,
darling and I would -
Still be on my feet -
Oh I would still be on my feet -

Oh I am a lonely painter -
I live in a box of paints -
I'm frightened by the devil -
And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid -

I remember that time that you told me, you said -
"Love is touching souls" -
Surely you touched mine 'cause -
Part of you pours out of me -
In these lines from time to time -

Oh you are in my blood like holy wine -
You taste so bitter -
And so sweet oh -
I could drink a case of you darling -
Still I'd be on my feet -
I would still be on my feet -

I met a woman -
She had a mouth like yours, she knew your life -
She knew your devils and your deeds,
and she said -
"Go to him -
stay with him if you can -
But be prepared to bleed..."

- Joni Mitchell (circa 1971)


Monday, August 27

I was hungry and it was your world




"...She takes just like a woman, yes she does...

She makes love just like a woman, yes she does...

And she aches just like a woman...

But she breaks just like a little girl...

When we meet again,

introduced as friends,

please don't let on that you knew me when, I was hungry and it was your world...

Ah, you fake just like a woman, yes you do...

You make love just like a woman, yes you do...

Then you ache just like a woman...

But you break just like a little girl..."

- Bob Dylan

 

Saturday, August 25

the way you make love


"There are so many words by Rumi that melt me straightaway into the heart pine floor. This particular line of words is so powerful and free of prediction that first it freezes me, forcing my eyes closed, and then instantly it infuses me with a kind of sweet slow burn that reminds me that I am so alive and so willing to take another chance on another new day. If this line had been spoken at Emmanuel Methodist Church when I was a girl in South Carolina I would not have been bored and scribbling bad poetry in the margins of the church program. I would have been mindful, engrossed, bowed, a devoted girl shepherd — imagining the future.” - Nikky Finney

--  “The way you make love is the way God will be with you." - RUMI --


Friday, August 24

dancing naked


"She calls to the wildman -
dancing naked by the shores -
of the ocean that she is,

He who speaks with tigers,
whose muscles move with
slow liquid grace.

He who no longer fears 
his darkness, or
the stillness of the earth, or
the sometimes suffocating pull
of her relentless rhythms,
gravities and tides,

He who has made his peace
with Kali and the void,
he who no longer needs
to run or hide
from the sweet source of power 
calling him from deep
inside."
- J. Levy

image - a corner of my desk inspiring ideas for new pieces...


Thursday, August 23

destined, my dear


"Quiero que sepas
una cosa.

Tú sabes cómo es esto:
si miro
la luna de cristal, la rama roja
del lento otoño en mi ventana,
si toco
junto al fuego
la impalpable ceniza
o el arrugado cuerpo de la leña,
todo me lleva a ti,
como si todo lo que existe,
aromas, luz, metales,
fueran pequeños barcos que navegan
hacia las islas tuyas que me aguardan.

Ahora bien,
si poco a poco dejas de quererme
dejaré de quererte poco a poco.

Si de pronto
me olvidas
no me busques,
que ya te habré olvidado.

Si consideras largo y loco
el viento de banderas
que pasa por mi vida
y te decides
a dejarme a la orilla
del corazón en que tengo raíces,
piensa
que en ese día,
a esa hora
levantaré los brazos
y saldrán mis raíces
a buscar otra tierra.

Pero
si cada día,
cada hora
sientes que a mí estás destinada
con dulzura implacable.
Si cada día sube
una flor a tus labios a buscarme,
ay amor mío, ay mía,
en mí todo ese fuego se repite,
en mí nada se apaga ni se olvida,
mi amor se nutre de tu amor, amada,
y mientras vivas estará en tus brazos
sin salir de los míos."

- Pablo Neruda

"I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is: 
if I look 
at the crystal moon, at the red branch 
of the slow autumn at my window, 
if I touch 
near the fire 
the impalpable ash 
or the wrinkled body of the log, 
everything carries me to you, 
as if everything that exists, 
aromas, light, metals, 
were little boats 
that sail 
toward those isles of yours that wait for me. 

Well, now, 
if little by little you stop loving me 
I shall stop loving you little by little. 

If suddenly 
you forget me 
do not look for me, 
for I shall already have forgotten you. 

If you think it long and mad, 
the wind of banners 
that passes through my life, 
and you decide 
to leave me at the shore 
of the heart where I have roots, 
remember 
that on that day, 
at that hour, 
I shall lift my arms 
and my roots will set off 
to seek another land. 

But 
if each day, 
each hour, 
you feel that you are destined for me 
with implacable sweetness, 
if each day a flower 
climbs up to your lips to seek me, 
ah my love, ah my own, 
in me all that fire is repeated, 
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, 
my love feeds on your love, beloved, 
and as long as you live it will be in your arms 
without leaving mine."

- Pablo Neruda
detail from mixed media on canvas, 2017

Wednesday, August 22

word made flesh

"Children show scars like medals.
Lovers use them as secrets to reveal. 
A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh."
- Leonard Cohen

limited edition prints from original mixed medias on paper




Tuesday, August 21

my beloved royal fish


"You are a royal fish trying to wear pants in a country as foreign as land.

Now there's a problem worth discussing.

Your separation from God had ripened. Now fall like a golden fruit into my hand.

All your wounds from craving love exist because of heroic deeds.

Now trade in those medals; that courage will help this world.

One needs to love those they have yet to love to stand near the Friend.

Why be a royal fish trying to wear pants?

Hafiz, what are you talking about? Has something happened to good brilliant mind?" - HAFIZ

detail from mixed media on paper, circa 2007



Monday, August 20

Papa-Coco


nací siendo la primera nieta de

Antioco Sacasa Sarria

mi Papa-Coco de ojos azules



Papa-Coco quien me contaba cuentos

historias reales

leyendas maravillosas

con guitarra y voz dulce



Papa-Coco siento su mirada en cielos celestes

Papa-Coco escucho sus consejos con amor

ya que siempre nos encontramos en mis sueños


Beloved Grand Father,

How I wish you were still walking this planet, holding your great-grandchildren's hands.

Although, I am certain you are already great friends.

Mi Papa-Coco de mis sueños...

Sunday, August 19

my world of lovers


"...my friends have become strangers and I'm surrounded by enemies, but I'm free as the wind, no longer hurt by those who reproach me.

I'm at home wherever I am, and in the room of lovers I can see with closed eyes the beauty that dances behind the veils, intoxicated with love I too dance the rhythm of this moving world.

I have lost my senses
in my world of lovers."

- RUMI

Saturday, August 18

I offer myself to you again


"You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever. 

I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it..."

- Jane Austen (1775 - 1817)


original photo credits:  Catalina Checa

The original photograph is from a series Catalina Checa took of me on a devastatingly deserted beach one cloudy morning... I cropped and edited the original image...playing with ideas


Friday, August 17

let the soft animal of your body love what it loves


"You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting over and over announcing your place in the family of things."

- Mary Oliver

a small corner of my world