Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Many Rivers

Just the day before yesterday, I was performing Brahms and Beethoven with Princeton Pro Musica; it was a glorious program on a glorious fall day. Gratification was the word of the hour.

Tonight we'll rehearse and move on from those compositions, alternately legato and percussive, into the precise textures of Bach for our next program.  I'm singing a new part in the Magnificat in the large chorus; and with the Chamber Chorus, also a section of the Christmas Oratorio new to me, all for a December 20 concert. Notwithstanding how much time I will be putting into all that, I think working on Bach's music for the next 7 weeks is going to benefit my work in the studio. I would even say it is the perfect accompaniment to the new direction I started to take this summer. I've enjoyed some new imagery coming out of some new processes and ideas, about which I might elaborate at some point; but not yet.

 
©2014 Ravenna Taylor, "Many Rivers," 2014, oil on paper, 24 x 22-1/2 inches (for JWR)

Once I get my gardens put to bed for the winter, that will be good for the studio work too. Today is a beautiful day and I hope to make good use of it.

I wish for what I always wish: no crisis to interrupt my flow.

It's always something, but I keep hoping for nothing - some things never change.
But when things go badly, change is a certainty to be cherished.

I've said it already: Long live mortality. Without it, would a body heal? Would it need to?
Without mortality, would summer turn to autumn, would trees become orange and translucent yellow? Would a garden ever sleep?

Friday, October 24, 2014

Heart beating in a chest of rivulets, banked by tender mercies




My ringing ears suggest
the crackled glaze of my dreaming.
A bird threaded notes in the dark: stranded constellations,
voicing thoughts that rest in verbs.

Blue-grey sky makes a promise to break,
leaking yellow light on trembling leaves.
I’m waiting: not alone—
we've all done a lot of it.

I’m one to allow extra time. I savor
some minutes of waiting.
It’s time that no one owns,
can't be harnessed or put to use—it's wild and free!

Well, I want to see it that way.
I like time untethered—
unclad by muzak, not a screen in the room.
Mere daylight is a balm.

My heart, still beating, in a chest
of rivulets, is banked by tender mercies.
I’ll wait for news, with no particular need
to arrive at that destination.

©2014-15 Ravenna Taylor