Portrait of an Ocean: A Body of Words
In 2012, I made a collection of large sculptural vessels and what seemed like a kilometre long line of porcelain fragments assembled in a tideline on the gallery floor. The public was invited to 'beach comb' the tide line, taking a piece of the exhibition home with them.
The exhibition was at the Campbell River Art Gallery on Vancouver Island in 2012. "Portrait of an Ocean: A Body of Words." The ceramic work felt secondary to the writing I did to accompany the work. In fact, the exhibition itself was secondary to the process of writing, which felt both cathartic and settling. And when I can find the photographs of the show, I'll post them. Amazing how files disappear into the ether.
But I do have the chapbook.
III. Liminal (2012)
Here, in tufts of soft earth tucked
into shattered stone, one strand of moss,
taking silent leafy breaths dares send
a single thready root down into bedrock
between the giant toes of dark forest feet.
Here, raindrops weigh mightily on
downy stamens of flowers hours old.
Exposed velvet tendrils are visited by bees,
in secret, under ferns, where neighbouring
vines reach towards the ocean's soothing salts.
Here, a tidal lullaby grows into full song;
seagrasses sway in the open air
of sand dunes in fresh summer heat.
Here, fish are eaten by trees.
The exhibition was at the Campbell River Art Gallery on Vancouver Island in 2012. "Portrait of an Ocean: A Body of Words." The ceramic work felt secondary to the writing I did to accompany the work. In fact, the exhibition itself was secondary to the process of writing, which felt both cathartic and settling. And when I can find the photographs of the show, I'll post them. Amazing how files disappear into the ether.
But I do have the chapbook.
III. Liminal (2012)
Here, in tufts of soft earth tucked
into shattered stone, one strand of moss,
taking silent leafy breaths dares send
a single thready root down into bedrock
between the giant toes of dark forest feet.
Here, raindrops weigh mightily on
downy stamens of flowers hours old.
Exposed velvet tendrils are visited by bees,
in secret, under ferns, where neighbouring
vines reach towards the ocean's soothing salts.
Here, a tidal lullaby grows into full song;
seagrasses sway in the open air
of sand dunes in fresh summer heat.
Here, fish are eaten by trees.
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