I just saw a documentary on Tyrus Wong, the artist behind the Disney movie, Bambi, among other things. Your art is very similar to his, simple lines in a stark background. Your poem, likewise stark, actually paints a similar picture of barest simplicity as though experienced in a quiet moment alone. Very nice. I like it.
I'm not sure if there is such a thing as a knucklebone tree but your fanciful drawing seems to be made of knucklebones growing as part of a tree.
Over Easter holiday in 1968, I drove to Baja, Mexico. In the desert far from the Pacific or the Sea of Cortez, I spied some desert driftwood in the sand and stopped to retrieve it. I still have it on my deck in front of the house. Based on the lack of foliage in that part of the desert, there is nothing as large as this piece of beautifully gnarled and weathered root or tree base. It makes me wonder if the water line was ever this high or the desert was wet enough to grow such a large tree like Mesquite. The mystery remains, but that piece of wood seems as enduring and timeless as a knucklebone tree would.
Amazingly stark and gripping picture for one thing. Having lived in the desert for many (many) years, I have seen such trees and marvelled as their "broken beauty", such a marvellous phrasing. A stunning posting.
The songs and art in this book are about our collective emergence after the pandemic and trauma of the last few years - comprised of 5 collections: World as Refuge, Where We Live, In Our Hands, Rhythms of Change and What We See & Sow.
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and description…
and your wonderful artwork completes
this ‘broken beauty’…
Such unique work…
Diana..🍃
(the other)
Over Easter holiday in 1968, I drove to Baja, Mexico. In the desert far from the Pacific or the Sea of Cortez, I spied some desert driftwood in the sand and stopped to retrieve it. I still have it on my deck in front of the house. Based on the lack of foliage in that part of the desert, there is nothing as large as this piece of beautifully gnarled and weathered root or tree base. It makes me wonder if the water line was ever this high or the desert was wet enough to grow such a large tree like Mesquite. The mystery remains, but that piece of wood seems as enduring and timeless as a knucklebone tree would.
Ron