In primordial earth's igneous seas,
fantastical creatures sprouted; weaving through the filtering net of time and carried by the ocean's roll and sway, these nascent ancestors—lightning borne-- were delivered from eons of subtle charms when exultant waves ferried the beasts to the beckoning lightness of air washed over by a ripple of stars. Fledgling pilgrims swept onto land-- colonists to continents of variegated hues-- who learned to creep, to jump, to run, to fly, and finally, with feathers, soar. Of our relations who stayed behind, a glimpse is sometimes granted: drummed out by the thump of waves, small gifts of whimsy, heirlooms, memories-- upended, displaced—are abandoned on the shore. Unwilling exiles from a heaving world of scales, fins, staring eyes, and pearls, amber (the color of quince) marooned jellyfish (drifting voyagers shipwrecked and scuppered) mix with lines of seaweed to mark the ocean's retreat while pierced and broken shells make the notes-- reclaimed, scattered, then restated-- the same revolving music creates the moon's palimpsest, summoning and transforming all. Nancy Christiansen
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AuthorI am a Northwest artist making collages from mulberry papers stamped by hand from original images that I have carved. Archives
April 2024
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