Churchill's got my back

my poetry reading on Sunday went very well. there was a great audience turn out despite the near white out conditions. i was pleased with the selection of my poems being scattered throughout the bookstore. my thanks go to Greenwoods, family, my follow poets and friends who came to support me.

weekend poetry reading

this weekend i will be reading my poetry at Greenwoods bookstore. all week i have been preselecting, then editing, removing and then preselecting {again} my poems. honestly i probably do not need a week to prepare but i like to know what i will be delivering to my audience.

i have done many readings over the years and it is similiar but different. like driving through the prairies... you can probably do it with your eyes closed but you keep them open just incase there is a slight bend in the road.

i luv listening to other poets. it is one thing to read a poem in the comfort of your own home, whether it be a book or on a blog but to listen to a poem is quite unique. each poet breathing life into their words. listening to them form sounds and shapes that dance around the audience. is inspiring!

i look forward to this weekend with great anticipation and exhilaration.

sandstone

i have noticed that it has been awhile since i did a blog post. this is not intentional... of coarse, it never is. there have been some things that had to come first. also i have been going through my five note books, that are 200-300 pages each, filtering and reworking ideas. i found this one and gave it some life.

SANDSTONE

i walked down to the ocean to find my special place. the one by the big rock. bending to my knees i started to silently collect the sand in my hands. allowing the sand to filter through my fingers like a sieve. until my hands and fingers were left with the earthly particles that stuck to my skin. not wanting to let go.

are we all little particles that stick not wanting to let go?

i decided to dig deeper into the sand. my finger nails embedded with the tiny grit and grain. digging like a pirate for the buried treasure. there is none to be had. the tide gently washes to the shore. creeping up to my special place. smoothing out all rough and ripped surfaces. the ocean spills into my footprints. the sand absorbs every drop. my footprints vanish. concealing my existence.

i stare beyond the horizon as the warm breeze combs my hair. brushing my cheek. whispering in my ear. it is easy to remember all the things loved and lost when i am out here. they have found a place beyond the horizon. beyond the sun.

© copyright written on January 21, 2010 by JAQ. publishing prohibited unless with the author's permission. photo by JAQ.

Melissa... is that you?

i wrote this awhile ago. call it a short story or call it the beginning of something bigger. i haven't decided.

MELISSA... IS THAT YOU?

i walked away. i had my reasons. i had a few. i needed sometime to think things through. to stop the mad race that kept replaying over and over again in my head. the words swarming at me like aphids in the backyard on a hazy summer evening.

she had to concentrate. allow herself room to breathe before everything... the walls, the floors and the books started to consume her. time can erase but all it takes is one reminder. one word that puts you back to that place. she saw herself trapped between December and whatever month it is now. looking blankly at the calendar. she had lost all track of time.

"where have i been"? she asked herself. trying to scratch the surface.

until the phone rang...

i didn't pick it up right away. i waited and picked up after the second ring but before the third ring for sure. i said "hello". the voice at the other end of the telephone said "Melissa... is that you"? it took a few seconds for the words to sink in. i paused and was about to answer but i caught myself. remember, all it takes is one reminder. one word. there i was back to that place. with all my energy i replied "no, you have the wrong number". i felt a little numb. not even waiting for a reply i pulled the phone away from my ear and hung up. my eyes shifted to the phone with a sinking stare.

"Melissa"?

do i sound like a Melissa"? the anger was swelling but not reaching the threshold.

"Melissa..........." the eyes tightened. the face blank. draining then wiped clean.

the silence was deafening. here comes the flood. the blood draining from her cheeks. the thoughts rushing. spilling out all over the floor. the flood she could not control but you could. your pretentious observations. your holier-than-thou ego. a martyr to your own lies. fragments floated throughout the house. down the stairs. down the hall. in each and every room. every crack oozed with the flood.

© copyright written on April 22, 2009 by JAQ. publishing prohibited unless with the author's permission. artwork by JAQ

the great escape

it has been about a week since we found our honorary house guest. during this time i managed to shoot this video of the ladybug in action. we still don't have a name for it because the powers that be can not decide if it's a boy or a girl. due to it's recent actions i think it should be called Steve McQueen or Houdini... it escaped!

i found it clinging to a frosty window so i brought it back to it's humble abode. it seemed happy enough but i think it had enough of us. the ladybug escaped again yesterday and is no where to be found. sad but true. we had searched in every possible place but our red winged two black dotted friend has eluded us. it must be inside the house because it certainly would not go outside. it is minus 28 degrees.

so i guess he/she is much happier roaming freely about the cabin. for something that, ironically, brought hope and luck it sure is going to need it. until we meet again...

ladybug ladybug did not fly away home...

look at what joined us early this morning at the breakfast table. i have no idea where it came from. since it snowed for most of the day yesterday i find it ironic... summer is clearly gone and winter is beginning. did any of it's friends inform him/her that our house is not the Royal Windsor Arms? regardless we will gladly accept the petite house guest and give it a nice home.

mysterious lady portraits

i can not stress this enough i luv working with charcoals.

the intense dark colour. the mess. the powdery soot left from blending...

lady # 1

Lady # 2 

© copyright artwork by Jacqueline Williams (JAQ), August 2009.

but who's counting...

i started my blog about a year ago. i was not sure where it or i was going with this... that was then. many things have changed for me but here i am still blogging away. i used to post more often but i think this place comes in like the tide... and goes like the tide. i am very pleased to say i have one of the top 50 blogs in Edmonton! i wanted to thank all of you for your support and comments. they are very much appreciated. Happy blogging to you all. *wink*

poetry and art in motion

last night i read my poetry at Steeps Open Mic Night. it was a great night to read in front of such a warm tea drinking audience filled with other poets and musicians. my friend took this picture of me. there i sat enjoying the rest of the night's entertainment. i find it very inspiring to sit and listen to other artists. after last night i am seriously thinking about picking up a guitar. like i need to add anything else to my list. nonetheless it would definitely bring some life into my poems and songs. next year... because the waiting list is that long... Steeps will be presenting my artwork for a month! i just got confirmation today and i can not tell you how excited i am.

the cat said

as much as i enjoy working with acrylic paint i absolutely luv charcoal. here is my first drawing and a short poem that goes with it.

the cat said

that it would not sit on that

but it did

the cat

said it would not scratch that

but it did

the cat said a lot of things

in the form of a meow

why did i believe the cat?

© copyright written on August 1, 2009 by JAQ. publishing prohibited unless with the author's permission. artwork by JAQ. all rights reserved.

disconnected. do things have feelings?

people have feelings. so we must handle with care.

for things are sharper than they appear.

© copyright written on June 30th 2009 by JAQ. artwork by JAQ.

11x14 acrylic on canvas.