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| Artist Marie Bortolotto 2021 |
April 4, 2021
March 18, 2021
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Marie Bortolotto 2021 "This is not a journey for the feet; the feet bring us only from land to land; nor need you think of coach or ship to carry you away; all this order of things you must set aside and refuse to see; you must close the eyes and call instead upon another vision which is to be waked within you, a vision, the birthright of all, which few turn to use." ~ Plotinus, Philosopher, 205-270 AD |
February 26, 2021
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| Marie Bortolotto 2021 |
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| Artist - Marie Bortolotto |
Transformation
I'm kin to the caterpillar
hidden within seasonal sac
awaiting destined identity
tucked tightly into darkness
this secret, inscrutable place
Does it know it will become
a delicate creature of beauty?
Does it know it will soon fly?
I wonder...
do I?
- Alyssa Underwood
It is difficult
To get the news from poems
Yet men die miserably every day
For lack
Of what is found there.
– William Carlos Williams
A bit of fragrance
clings to the hand
that gives flowers.
- Chinese proverb
When the rains come,
do you fear
being swept away
by a torrential thrust of
becoming nothing
and everything?
- Unknown
December 14, 2020
December 6, 2020
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| Marie Bortolotto 2020 |
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| Marie Bortolotto 2020 |
What an I dreaming of?
Nothing. I'm creating the
Dream. Heavy Soul!
- Charles Henri Ford, American poet
1908-2002
Where is the moon?
the temple bell is sunk
at the bottom of the sea
- Basho
a butterfly flits
from grave to grave:
out of my mouth -
the naked and the dead
-AA Marcoff
October 17, 2020
August 30, 2020
August 28, 2020
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Marie Bortolotto 2020 Poem by Pablo NerudaSi cade dÃa cae
dentro de cade noche
hay un pozo
donde la claridad está encerrada.
Hay que sentarse a la orilla
del pozo de la sombra
y pescar de la sombra
y pescar luz caÃda
con paciencia. If each day falls
inside each night,
there exists a well
where clarity is imprisoned.
We need to sit on the rim
of the well of darkness
and fish for fallen light
with patience.
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August 22, 2020
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| Marie Bortolotto 2020 |
Sometimes Mysteriously
by Luis Omar Salinas
Sometimes in the evening when love
tunes its harp and the crickets
celebrate life, I am like a troubadour
in search of friends, loved ones,
anyone who will share with me
a bit of conversation. My loneliness
arrives ghostlike and pretentious,
it seeks my soul, it is ravenous
and hurting. I admire my father
who always has advice in these matters,
but a game of chess won't do, or
the frivolity of religion.
I want to find a solution, so I
write letters, poems and sometimes
I touch solitude on the shoulder
and surrender to a great tranquility.
I understand I need courage
and sometimes, mysteriously,
I feel whole.
August 13, 2020
2 Video Sketches by Artist Alf Lohr
crossing the river from Dr. Lohr on Vimeo.
observation NIZAMUDDIN from Dr. Lohr on Vimeo.
July 12, 2020
May 19, 2020
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