Spring is here and I am thinking of birds and nesting...they are so rich with love and symbolism

"Lost in the Bush", 2007 Encaustic Mixed Media Collage, Copper Framed, 24 x 24

"Art Elation", 2009 Encaustic Mixed Media Collage, 8 1/4 x 16 1/4

Below: Detail of the next with A-R-T eggs.

Spring is here...I brought in the Spring dancing my heart out to the fantastic music producer, engineer, composer, DJ of Andrew McPherson...it was just what my heart and soul needed....Recently I bought the SHIVA BOOM Cd and it is so wildly wonderful...check out www.eccodek.com

With the Spring I have once again been thinking about our lovely bird friends, their beauty, wisdom and their lovely nests they call home...I have used the nesting imagery quite a bit lately and in the past...and find myself revisiting it again for the Spring Show at the Globe Studios, May 1st, 2nd and 3rd..come and visit me there.  Here is a poem to our fine feathered friends and to your HAPPY SPRING!

Words from the Aviary - D.G. Jones

"I would clothe you in feathers

 

You are too bare

in your long bones when the wind 

sighs in the snow

You are a movement of birds

I would clothe you in voices

appellations, words

spare as the mirror of a young girl

or raw, and deliquescent as the crow's

cawing over chill fields

It is not clothing but a call

of voices, nameless

gone into the still air

of the small birds that drift

above a river running among stones

in the Haute-Savoie

above the grasses of the steppe, and in the small

trees of the taiga

in the summer forest

north

along the Ottawa

I would surround you with a guard

of heron like a tall

smoke, I would surround you with a choir

or unrecorded waterbirds, exiguous

emerging from a wall

beyond the Nile

I would have you smile, and see the sun

arrested, rest among your bones

as glistening

you move within the garden of your names, diaphanous

innumerable

You walk as you have always walked 

through desert yards, the cold

spaces where the night

sighs among the stars

the sunken orchard where the wind

sighs in the snow

You are an overture

You come

like a migration 

like the first waters of the world

with the entelechy of flowers

And then your naked summer 

silences my words.