Day 318, Ink and acrylic on May, 1955 Field and Stream Magazine
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
Did he look a monkey in the face
When he made
That nod to science?
Or did he read the text
And pray on it?
Original: May, 1955 page 19
Day 314, 5 x 7″ watercolor and pierced paper
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
Incubating
Until the moon is right
And mother approves
A wide hungry mouth
Casting shadows
In the night light
Day 311, 16 x 20″ acrylic, pencil and pierced paper
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
They pull
Mightily
In opposite directions
Tied together
No
Bound together
Uncertain of right
Hoping the other tires soon
day 309, 5 x 7 ink on paper
A flower stands
hunched over
Its brightly colored leaves
Pleasing fragrance
And sunny disposition
Heartsick
Longing for water
3 x 5″ watercolor and ink on paper
Life provides the course
For this race we’ve named Rat
Rushing to get here
Or there
To finish
This
Or that
In order to start all over again
Day 276, 1955 Field and Stream Magazine, ink and acrylic. Illustrator not credited in magazine.
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
Like Twelve Dancing Princesses who sneak out in the night
But now there were only five
Gowns dancing, swishing
Thick blades of grass
Under the moonlight
Voices sing
Until the wee hours of morn
Original pg 9 of May, 1955 Field and Stream magazine.
11 x 14″ paper with pinholes
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
Dangling birds
Aside an old tire swing
Home
A soft, happy tree
18 x 24″ Watercolor and pinholes on paper
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
The other night after my grandma passed away, my sister sent me the following piece of writing and asked if I could do something with it. I absolutely loved what she wrote and was easily inspired. Because her poetry invoked very concrete images, my interpretation is rather literal. I did, however, decide I wanted to abstract that imagery. I may add some more of the brighter blues down the road, but not just yet. I love this piece – probably for more than one reason.
By: Gail Richardson
Gone
Mostly, I remember her voice.
I don’t remember what she said.
I could guess, or try to conjure up what someone else might say they remember.
I just recall the sound.
I don’t know what I would do with
Grandma’s recorded voice –
Except that it wouldn’t be
Gone.
Not “smooth” or “silky” –
Almost crackly-
But not a cackle.
A zillion sand-sized bubbles
Popping in succession
The flicking and clicking of cards shuffled
Only quicker
And soft
And pushed through a voice,
Or a laugh,
Or a sharp stinging comment.
Air and water
Shushed
Through a faucet
Only coarser
And more
Abrupt.
Words of hers,
(I can’t say which ones),
Jagging briskly over
Fine cracks in my imagination.
Silvery scribbles
Slipping
Off the margins,
And I try to reel them back
Onto pages I can keep.
3 x 5″ ink on paper
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
One would hardly know
The difference
Between this thing
Whose purrs rumble and shake the floor
And the mat upon which we wipe our feet
Until the yowls inform us
That shook the the floor
3 x 5″ ink and watercolor on paper
Goal: To create one piece of art each day for 365 consecutive days
Looking down upon the spectacular apparatus
He couldn’t help but notice
Brightly colored spheres
Who surfed the edges
Of this spinning, whistling whirligig
And he wondered just where he might belong
Micah Richardson 