The 30th day of March 2013

Day 30: Sea Fever
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com

The Wind Spoke

Sitting on the edge of the water, watching the lines,
The wind spoke.
She was going on so wild the waters’ surface broke.
We listened to a couple yarns, and pulled tight our cloak.
It’s the kind of conversation that redefines.

The 29th day of March 2013

Day 309
12 x 12 oil/acrylic/metallic on canvas
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com

Yesterday mornin'
before the sun I rose
To come a-talkin'
with the moon, who knows,
like all good friends, my every worry.
I bore to him my soul,
in joy and in fury,
and we talked til I was whole, again.

The 28th day of March 2013

Day 68
18x24 Oil on Canvas
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com
 

Sky Fire

Beneath transparentpools
of wat'ry color
that compose the iris
of the eye,
Lies a flame
that is a star
burning int he midnight sky,
and toiling to thrive.

Suddenly is plucked
from it's dark abyss,
and in the light
of the world, it cannot shine.

Though it is invisible;
it burns.
I feel its fury divin,
like heaven and hell combined.

I would be captured by the flame
Was I not afraid.
Fear makes me shy.
I could never reach the midnight sky...

But a smoldering star
Within me grows.
it's just a glimmer, a little light
That might
take its place one day in the sky.

The 27th of March

 

Water Music
by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com

 

There will be…

There will be a day
when the code of your soul
is written on my heart and locked away
and the two of us will be whole.

The 26th of March 2013

Day 312
8 x 10 Marsh Landscape
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com

 

Love after Death

At first my love for you was like a Browning verse;
I loved the depth and breadth and height of you.
Then, today I realized we live in a cycle, a sort of mortal curse.
With that thought, I realized I love even the transcendent you.
When our bodies are cold and our ears filled with dust;
I pray we’ll be the rain, the fog, the air, we must!

The 21st day of March 2013

8x10 watercolor pencil on canvas

Day 175
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com

Creation

I.                   Could I with the wind—the breath of God, I could be restored?

The March wind is a lion and a lamb.
He’ll coax and seduce me til I clamb-
er up the clouds,
or the stairs to the palace of God
that hides under layers of effervescent shrouds.
Human eyes can’t see paradise, tis a duty for the human soul.
Heaven lives inside us, grows inside us, and makes us whole.

II.                Pride-full; Pride-fall

The path to sin is a path to healing.
I am a mountain in the face of time eroding,
falling, and growing with the shift of tectonic plates
above and beneath the eyes of God.
They watch over me while I work to growing thinner while an organ creates
thoughts, which are seeds to nature. Blessed, tender youth!  
I’m striving like a gardener in blisters and stink against basal truth.

III.             Celestial Equator

In the beginning there were the words, and the words became,
the voice of humanity, that is the bridge to all there is to claim.
I serve an imperfect creator, are you a believer?
What do you think?  Is there a God?
Do you doubt because the universe is Earth’s conceiver?
What of quantum physics, the biology of minds and hearts, bioluminescence?
Are miracles not the language of God, who is the medium to our mathematical essence?

IV.             Perfect Unity

In God’s image, I have been made—
we are one mind, one body, one soul, un-swayed
by any vice or any virtue.  All of us are one, the scriptures tell us so…
There, in the broken books is the bridge to the mind of God.
Inside disciple and sinner alike is a way to know
God’s face.  He is man. She is woman. Is mercy; is wrath.
Just look in the mirror to find the path.

 

V.                Galactic Proof

To calculate stellar formation it is obvious that X + Y + Z = 1.[1]
You are made of stardust from the Big Bang Explosion.
Just as children of humanity, just like me
and the son of God.
The parts of the equation are divinely proportional—are a singular trinity.
To please the creator we have only to use our energy to productive means
a task that’s innate to human genes.

VI.             Spiritual Vexation

Vexation of spirit is a waste of a treasure too precious to lose
and immeasurably great.  Be wise with your time, be cautious and choose
your words with care, because sound waves wane, but never disappear.
Find your center, your Om, your God.
For there is someone to pray to that will hear.
Search, dream, study, and pray, fast, work, and all the while,
you will discover, in humble service, the blessing of the creator’s smile.

VII.          A Mission Found

In the twenty-first century complacency is a plague from birth.
To always think with your heart makes you part of a dearth
of scientists, artists, philosophers, explorers, and the rest of the people
Who founded a house for a God.
The trouble is that now they're only worried about a building with altar and steeple.
Jaded and cross they lost their hope, and forgot that the mystics were right
when they sacrificed to promote acceptance, pleasure, and love in a time that was as dark as the night.     

  

 

    

 

 

---

[1] No, seriously, look:  http://www2.astro.psu.edu/users/rbc/a534/lec2.pdf

The 20th day of March 2013

Day 177
8x10 watercolor & ink on canvas
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com

 

 

The Sun

My hair as straw in autumn time
is dry and frail, an breaks and bends
with any gentle touch.

My skin as ash of fire’s flame
is cold and weak, and flies and flits
in still are and in winds.

My heart is a drum
or a hollow reed.
In the wind it cries, in the rain it sobs.
In the sun it cracks open to reveal—

Nothing.  There is nothing inside.

But you are the sun of every season
that breaks my hollow shell.
You fill me up with warmth and love,
and when storm seasons come again…

My hair shall sway soft and smooth like silk.
My skin with the essence of dew shall forget the pain,
and my heart’s rhythmic beat shall
transform into a flute and sing to remember,

That you, the sun, filled me up and made me tender.

The 19th day of March 2013

When a sinner talks to herself she hears a voice that says...

All that is, indicates to you
a burning in your heart, because God sees through
Whatever words you can tell yourself to
Try to sleep without worry or fear
There is no excuse, no where to go far or near.
Just accept the humility and pain.
Have courage to find that when you lose you gain.

Day 203
Size and Price Unknown
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com
 

The 18th Day of March 2013

Day 16
8 x 10 Stretched Canvas, in Oils $100
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com

Now that we've met, you and I.
Our souls are interlocked
like chainmail prepared to face battlecry.

Since your gentle hand, on my heart did knock
to you I've given every thought and with a sigh
I pray our destiny be not for years clocked.

But if we should meet with the father of time
and he should lay us, below the earth, down.
Then, like the wind that moves the chime

I shall seek to move your laughter, golden as the crown.
There is no terrain I shall fail to climb
to reach you, life after life, til you know me in my gown.

The 17th day of March 2013

St. Patrick's Rain Blessing

The forrest not yet new with Spring,
today, was blessed by raindrops
that to evergreens for hours meant to cling.
And, thankful for the drink, the trees like old mops
Soaked the liquid in while frogs in unison began to sing.

The 16th day of March 2013

This piece is not for sale
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com

Senryu poem...

The lover
fingers work
knead the bread.

The 15th Day of March 2013

Day 55 Falling Back
8x10 Oils $110
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com
 

 

Magor-Misabib or Gun Control

Jeremiah 20:10 For I heard the defaming of many, fear on every side...

There was a time,
When men were in, and of the wild,
and women expected to work, to protect, and to bear many a child,
but we have grown, and we have known
the horrors that our creations to the earth have concieved and born.
The lives once lost, are lost forever.
For the distance, we build bridges that are left, uncrossed.
Tell me, please.
What science can rule out truth of right and wrong?
Who is left to give the law of God?
Who is left to interpret the omniscient wind?
Who has returned to earth to tell of life after?
Who carries in their heart the Om of those who seek to defend?
If he or she exists I long to listen!
For I doubt I’ll ever know.
There is no hunter of man, or beast,
There is no politician, currency hungry—that will feast
at all; but with a side of human sacrament.
Each day we’re left with less resolve
over metal and fire that revolve,
and then, knife and vice with guns conspire…
Don’t you see the uselessness of speech?
Don’t you see there’s crimson from beach to beach,
On every piece of Pangea that spread?
There they are, count the dead!
Or go ahead and hoard your power
One side or the other,
because in the end,
with one, Earth shattering, final breath,
it is in death,
that peace prevails.
She is perfect stillness, no tongues move.
There is no one that I’ve met that speaks from beyond the grave,
for walking dead are fan-fare fiction
with which you rot your brain.
They, the plethora of invisible unified spirit,
they cannot teach us, how to cure
complacency and self-destruction.
Yes, I see it, Magor-Misabib.
Gun control is
the global suicide mission.

The 14th day of March 2013

8x10" stretched canvas--Woman at Rest $115
by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com

The Heart of a Man
(A response to W.B. Yeats)

Oh what to me a steady drum
That was dressed in life's attire;
She dances and invites a harmonious hum.
My feet are resting, but my mind is wriggling at what may transpire.

Oh what to me, the noise that's made
The rhythm of my words, my song, my soul,
The place of peace where inspirations cascade;
Where we'll be surrounded, wherever we are we'll be whole.

Oh my quiet world, scarcity of sound;
Solitude transforms from friend into fiend and back again,
Until I'm close enough to feel the rhythm close to me and all around
Torso to torso we are locked, and unafraid of sin.

The 13th day of March 2013

There's something divine about the number three today, 03.13.13...

8x10 oils
Coquette
by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com

Only a rose

I am only a rose
if I am fortified in timeless titanium,
if I am permitted intellect and cranium
to protect ideas I value most.

I am only a rose
if roses are as trees
whose roots reach beneath, and above reach their leaves,
and if in being evergreen, I boast.

I am only a rose if my shape allows me to accept the physicality,
and the joy of conception and motherhood with flexibility
and I have a strong gardener to help to tend the post.

I am only a rose, only a rose,
if rose is the word I or my trusted love chose.

The 12th day of March 2013

Deoxyribonucleic Acid Synthesis is...

Day 81
11x14 Oil on Canvas Panel
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com

Nature
Healing herself.
Cells dancing gracefully
to regenerate, to know
God's will.

The 11th day of March 2013

Surreal Tree
Size and Price Unknown
for more information see the artist, Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com

Almost Spring

Drizzly, damp, march rain
soft shoes outside my window pane.
I open the window to listen closer
Who would dream they could be as skilled as earth’s creator?
Nature is the best composer.
I inhale God’s perfume, and I’ve no need for church or philosophy.
I just take in this world, let myself become part of the whole,
that’s where mortals find their eternal soul.

The 10th day of March 2013

Day 143 or Madonna and Child
8x10 oils on canvas
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com

Birth
(For Moms)

Immeasurable as time,
Immense as the sky,
Brave as a crocus,
Futile as rhyme,
Soft as a sigh,
Ever-changing as earth,
Wind to lungs is nigh
 At last,
A first cry. 

The 9th day of March 2013

Day 141
8x10 oils on canvas
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com 

Heartglow

There’s a light, in the night
that warms like a candle, lit by the soul.
There’s a tickle on your skin,
When you feel it within.
Then,
Just when,
the windows to you,
are sleepy and thin,
Eyelids close,
Your heart knows,
and at last,
Too slow! And too fast!
There’s a feeling of being whole.

The 8th day of March 2013

Light or Life by the Drop

Early in the morning,
before the sun, I rise.
The light, over blue shadows
and through the window is filtering...

By late morning,
The sun is a brass symphony,
or an angelic choir.
Glory is growing from soft canary down
to the most exquisite gold.
The light, my humble home hallows.

Midday.
All is pale and white,
Perfect to read, to write,
Perfect for work and for play,
Perfect to pray.

Evening light arrives,

Just before I close the windows and the blinds.

I am graced by the sweet drops of orange juice

infused with pink pomegranate,

and the last drops of purple and red

like wine fade, and at last, it is night.

 

 

                                          Day 96
                                          11x14 Oil on Canvas Panel Untitled. $150
                                          Art by: Valerie Dowdy
                                          @ www.valeriedowdy.com

The 7th of March 2013

Day 209
8x10 oils
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@ www.valeriedowdy.com

Earth Cry or Vision

De earth cries
like I, me rain from mine eyes
to replenish the soil around me feet
I’s root bound to de earth
So that when sun come
Me can search fe blue skies
with clouds pastel an’ white
and pretend that I’s among dem...
float above I, for a better view.

I and I walk the street
Nuh c’yan see; blind--
‘cause vision comes from de soul,
nuh dem organs of bone an’ skull!

A haiku, two different ways, which do you prefer?

                                                                

Day 361
8 x 10 oils, and metallic gold on canvas
Art by: Valerie Dowdy
@www.valeriedowdy.com
 

Alchemy

It’s impossible.
Earth into gold is not true;
Self must remain self.


OR

Alchemy

It’s impossible.
Man-man, earth-earth, God-God, gold?!
Self must remain self.

 

the 5th day of March 2013 (early)

Silence

T’was the sudden retreat of a black bird’s weightless wings
From a still forest laid heavy with bright, white, snow.
Solitude by thought is shaken; feathered thought swings
amid the air, toward the gray sky where you go,

and fall deep into an inky black, placid lake.
Head below the surface all the noise yields to om
‘Til bubbles explode from your nose. At last you wake;
A gasp for air breaks the silence between the foam.

You slide your corpse toward the shoal, broken boat.
Dreams are ice casting atop your bluish skin.
There is a gnostic verse. Somewhere, for you was wrote
To light a candle for a-photic worlds of sin...

Why do thoughts war and imaginations hence grow
in curious, beautiful silence where you ought know?

Day 125

8x10 oil on canvas

Art by: Valerie Dowdy

www.valeriedowdy.com

contact for price information



The 4th day of March 2013

Strange Weather

I am full with the levity
of contentment and the gravity
of peace.

I sit in a great armchair;
anchored between two windows.
In this room I am the nose.

Outside my room the world is
half-flooded; half froze.
Over the silence a special sound is
a little bird who proudly crows.
                                                                                   Art by: Valerie Dowdy
                                                                                   Day 99 @ www.valeriedowdy.com
                                                                                   11x14 oil on canvas panel $150

3rd Day of March 2013

A Tree

Long, thin arms swaying in the breeze with phantom ease,
Pointe shoes fixed in the rhythm of the timeless earth,
The wrinkled texture of her skin inspires, fancies
Like faeries dancing inside snowflakes bearing mirth.

Her soul’s near boundless vision has earned senescence.
Fate has played her game and to the earth she has stayed.
Humility maintains amorous innocence.
Protection for her was prayed; notes of serenade...

At her core, men and women have fallen to rest
beneath her shade, perhaps never again to wake;
induced by nature, alpha and omega nest
of dust are born, and to dust return--mortal ache.

And still she stands in knowledge and beauty divine,
where plants bow down and flowers embrace and entwine.

                                         Art by: Valerie Dowdy
                                         Untitled 18x24
                                         Mixed Media on Canvas
                                         www.valeriedowdy.com
                                         $400

The 2nd day of March 2013

Return to Paran

Amidst the wilderness as a child, I prayed and played free and wild.
Innocence understands that cathedrals are made of rocks and trees.
Wandering in the wilderness like Moses or David I am found.
Amidst a Kingdom, above the people, I could not hear the trumpet of the Lord sound.
Then a Man of God, I carried to my childhood church.
There we tarried and upon my lips he placed a kiss to him the symbolic end of his search.

Sinners are full of doubt and fear, and so was I,
but faith and obedience keep the rope bound tight.
His words and his honor taught me who to be.
Is it Ruth he sees inside of me?

Promises were made in the wilderness,
and from the wilderness deliverance transpires.
Back to the wilderness we must run,
God guide us back to our promises at Paran.

                                                  Woman at Rest 6 or Day 93
                                                  8x10 Oil on Stretched Canvas $115
                                                  Art by:  Valerie Dowdy
                                                  www.valeriedowdy.com

The 1st Day of March 2013 (late!)

1.003k/m3x1,000x1km3 = 1, 003,000,000kg

The thoughts my mind carries amass me
as a giant cumulous cloud.
They weigh down on my shoulders to see
how much pressure i withstand
6,268 blue whales in a crowd-
ed sea,
Those are the proof, of the measure, of the strength, of me!

                                                    

                                                   From My Window-Fall & Rain

                                                      8 x 10 Oil On Canvas $100

                                                         Art by: Valerie Dowdy
                                                    www.valeriedowdy.com