Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Poets on Art

Image by Mark R. Knox

Writer's interpretations:

Space, Time, and the Goddess of Sunlight

R. E. Smith

An inch of space and time reserved for each individual's ponderings. Words, a first breath of knowing sighs reach the soft neck of understanding, to live in the curve of soft tissue until the cathedral of harmony settles in the ear of every attentive soul.
R. E. Smith Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved


Marta Moran-Bishop

Gently the rose falls from the hand,
Goddess of sunlight burns brightly,
Time moves through eternity,
Endlessly recycling.

The Gold light darkens with the night,
Repeating itself forever,
Never the same each day new,
Dawn to dusk, then dawn again.

With renewal there is a change,
Ever so slight is the movement,
No petal or fold the same,
Ceaseless this circle of life.

Copyright Marta Moran-Bishop 2011 All Rights Reserved

Image by Mark R. Knox, KnoxworX Multimedia
Despite Beauty

Jen Knox

I looked to her for definition. The artificial. The perfect. She redefined delicacy when she found her place in nature, in images around my home. She held my own rough image, magnified, enlivened, so that I only wanted to close my eyes in front of the mirror, hoping for smoother lines. Fragile, younger then, I looked to her, to art, to the place of light. I look still. And sometimes the light peeks out, around the trees, above the moist and fragrant ground. It begs reflection, tells me to seek other forms of beauty. Look to the whole, it says, redefine.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

off the grid

I'm taking the summer off as far as this blog goes. I've injured my hand and wrist, and the doctor says I need to rest it as much as possible. Of course, I work online, editing and teaching, so I can't do that completely. But, I have to slow down where I can.

Look out for new fiction in Black Fox, Independent Ink Magazine (Available Now!!!) & Fwriction and a new essay in Pure Slush in the meantime.

Come August 01st (maybe before), I'll be back and hopefully healed, and on this day, I will post all of the Mannequin images, alongside those writings some of you have generously submitted. (The other two images are below, in previous posts.)
To your right is the final image ( If you'd like to contribute any short interpretation, please do (under 500 words), and I'll post it along with the others when I return.

Wish me luck... I'm not good at following doctor's oders...

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Writing is like....

[This is a blog chain. It's the first one I've done, and I'm doing it only because my good friend Maria Savva asked me to. Well that, and, I was very curious to read her piece, which is here. And her piece was inspired by Jason McIntyre's original post, which is here.]
So, what is writing like to me? First thoughts...

the first meal when you get out of jail or the hospital or the mental institution. Writing is a wholly rounded meal, not necessarily what you want. It's lean chicken or tofu, broccoli with light spice and no butter, a thin slice of rye or sourdough bread, a 4oz glass of dry red wine and a few small, soft chocolate chip cookies or a scoop of your favorite ice cream. It is served on dark, square plates and in a crystal glass. It is nutritious and filling, even though it wasn't your first choice. If you eat everything though--if you don't try to give your plate away before eating the broccoli, for instance--you will have refueled and had, at last, that experience that you always knew a meal should be. You will feel the energy the way you are supposed to; you will be invigorated and stronger because you've been eating too much white bread and Jell-O and cream of wheat, and whatever else is preservative-heavy and bland that the confining places serve you. Now, you eat as though your meal is not only your last but your only, the only one you'll ever need. And the bitter, sweet, pungent, full, salty tang of the whole of it fills you in a way you have forgotten possible.

And, if you write again, you will feel this way again. And it will again feel as though you were just released and are only now enjoying the fullness of a meal for the very fist time.
Don't get me wrong, I love Cream of Wheat, but writing is not like Cream of Wheat. No matter what.

If they have time, I invite Marta Moran Bishop ( and Stuart Ross McCallum ( to take this to their blogs or websites or Facebook statuses... Or to post here. Writing is like...

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

New Image

This is the second in the series that I will be writing to. The first response was fully developed after an invitation to The Language and Place on the Edge Blog Carnival. (You can see the original image and poem below.) My father, the creator of this piece, sent me a few more images.

If this image inspires you, please, feel free to join me. If you can come up with something under 500 words, I'll post it here on 08/01. The image seems to lend itself to poetry. We'll see...

Image by Mark R. Knox 2011

Observations: Dublin Vacation

Dublin seemed the obvious destination. We would be close to various restaurants and tourist attractions. It would be easy to call a cab or...