Marie Bortolotto 2016 

Marie Bortolotto 2016

Marie Bortolotto 2016

Marie Bortolotto 2016

Marie Bortolotto 2016

Marie Bortolotto 2016

Marie Bortolotto 2016



I love this poem:

The Way It Is

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

William Stafford, American Poet, 1914 - 1993

Drawing by Marie Bortolotto

Drawing by Marie Bortolotto 2016

Marie Bortolotto 2016

Marie Bortolotto 2016



“When the mind is exhausted of images, it invents its own.”
- Gary Snyder,  American Poet , Essayist b. 1930 -

Abstract Ink Painting, Marie Bortolotto 2016

Abstract Ink Painting, Marie Bortolotto 2016

Abstract Ink Painting, Marie Bortolotto 2016

Abstract Ink Painting, Marie Bortolotto 2016


I am walking
It cannot be otherwise.

Freestyle Haiku by Santoka Taneda 1882 - 1940

Marie Bortolotto 2016

"Red Sky, White Cloud", Marie Bortolotto

"Untitled", by Marie Bortolotto 2016


Going deeper

And still deeper—


Into the green mountains.

Haiku by Santoka Taneda 1882 - 1940

Marie Bortolotto 

"Untitled", Artist Marie Bortolotto 2016

Artist Marie Bortolotto 2016

Art by Marie Bortolotto 2016

Abstract Mixed Media Collage

Art by Marie Bortolotto 2016

Artist Marie Bortolotto 2016




Black Earth Red Earth - Poem by Cesare Pavese

Black earth red earth,
you come from the sea,
from the arid green,
where there are ancient
words and bloody toil
and geranium among rocks—
you don't know how much you bring
of toil and words from the sea,
you're rich like a memory,
like the barren countryside,
you hard and sweetest word,
ancient because of the blood
gathered in the eyes;
young, like a fruit
that is a memory and a season—
your breath rests
under the sky of August,
the olives of your look
sweeten the sea,
and you live and live again
without amazement, certain
like the earth, dark
like the earth, a grinder
of seasons and dreams
that reveals itself under the moon
to be so old, just like
the hands of your mother,
the bowl of the brazier.

- Cesare Pavese, Italian Poet, Novelist 1908 - 1950

Marie Bortolotto 2016

My line is childlike but not childish. It is very difficult to fake...
to get that quality you need to project yourself into the child's line.
It has to be felt.  - Cy Twombly American Painter, Sculptor,
Photographer 1928 - 2011

Marie Bortolotto 2016

There is a language older by far and deeper than words.
It is the language of bodies, of body on body, wind on snow,
rain on trees, wave on stone.  It is the language of dream, gesture,
symbol, memory.  We have forgotten this language.
We do not even remember that it exists. ~ Derrick Jensen, Author & Environmentalist