“You set before me a space uncluttered by association. It might be a void or it might be a release. Certainly I want to take the risk.”

~Jeanette Winterson

“The ravings of a madwoman.” That is an insult unless you are like me and aspire to be regarded as mad….not mad in the unstable and manic way, but mad for believing dreams can become real. Mad for seeking out all the possible realities, for creating disturbance and watching the particles settle again. Everyone is just the right shape for defiance.

Between Tucson and Sonoita

Earlier in this series of posts, I mentioned meeting the landscape photographer who led me to Las Cienegas Conservation Area. These are his photos. This is his website.

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First Cold Rain

Realistic-hand-leaf-tattoo

Warm weather flicker

sent me

where the rain met my skin,

mother kisses

her last daughter goodbye,

bittersweet wine

on my lips

so last night

a thrill spilling

memory.

Fingers flowing electric

out to dance

and remember

the center.

Today after lunch

a bouquet

arrived at my door.

 

 

Home sounds like shower water

Listen here, the coffee’s brewed.

“Home sounds like the water in the shower my son is taking. It is the laughter and comfort of he and his brothers voices, musings and their lives winding and weaving away and then back again”

~Cindy

Maine

ki

‘From the Lake’ by Georgia O’Keefe

Sun Prairie, Wisconsin

Check out the rest of the Sound-Bites project.

Home sounds like mom opera

My mother was a character.  Yep, 100% enthusiasm, live for the moment, competitive, vibrant, friendly, inquisitive.  She was the center of our home growing up 70s style.  Dad went to work and Mom stayed home.  Placing orders with Rusty the milkman – do you have that blueberry ice cream you had last summer?  Waving to the mailman – hello Frank!  Accepting packages from the  G. Fox delivery man – thanks, I’ve been waiting for these dresses forever!  And warding off the Fuller Brush salesman – no I don’t need to replace the vacuum today, thank you!

All was kept in good order around the house.

Except.

Except, on Saturday afternoons.

Except on Saturday afternoons when Milton Cross broadcast “live from the Metropolitan Opera House in New York City.”

Suddenly, our innocent little radio that usually gave the weather report or followed the baseball game jumped to life.  Our home was filled with strange, guttural sounds that sailed from high to low in a musical cocophony that was hard to follow.  Opera!  And not just any opera, but German opera.

The music had a strange effect upon my mother.  Suddenly she was transported from suburban housewife to concert hall performer.  Center stage.  A single spotlight.  And there was no stopping my mother once she got started.  It was a complete concert from soprano to bass.  Not just singing in the shower, but windows wide open singing.  Our peaceful neighborhood with leafy canopy of oaks on hushed streets echoed with Mozart and Weber, Strauss and Wagner.

An opera diva lived amongst us.   On Saturday afternoons.

Make your own opertic cocophony today!

Your Daily Post: Sounds of Home

 

cover (1)
Materials: hand carved rubber stamp and ink, paper bags, the Southside News from October (delivered free to our back porch)

I’ll be posting the zine submissions for the most recent volume of Sound-Bites. Tune in and enjoy the variety of art submitted from near and far.

Email me at bethanymariahclarke@gmail.com for a physical copy. I am charging a $3 to cover color printing costs and postage.

Find the full digital version of the zine here.