Hope Strength Courage

Paintings donated to Team Mamageddon in support of the 2011 San Francisco Bay Area 3-Day for the Cure

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Finch Melody

In a lovely surreal violet forest
With a myriad of bearded men traversing alongside me,
Golden finches and butterflies flutter their wings
As swiftly as my flying heart.

These scruffy men make me laugh.
Voices sing softly in the radiant wood,
As I run lightly on shimmering leaves.

Perfection rains happily downward.
Until my soaring heart falls to the ground,
Only to shatter.

My amiable bearded men disintegrate to shadow,
Mocking me behind gnarled trees.
Love and finches collapse in the empty sky,
Drenching decaying earth in bitter sorrow.

Sighing, utterly exasperated with such unpleasantness,
I lean up against a twisted tree.
Nothing to do except shut my eyes and hum merrily.
Sweet spiders perch on my shoulder, enjoying my song.

The Shadows reappear to harmonize and keep me warm.
Grinning silver moons claw their way to embrace stars.
In a compelling and rather obscure forest
Life moves forward, we will not be broken.

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Henry Trotter

Here are a couple of family pet photos I had to copy over from the old site…
Henry Trotter Henry Trotter.  RIP.  Jan 1997 – Dec. 2006
He was a good, hard-working dog.

And here was the most cuddly cat in the world…
He demanded affection with the most annoying voice ever!
Percival Fawnswatter Percival Fawnswatter.  RIP.  Jan 2001 – Nov. 2011
Once, in a fit of needing affection, Percy demanded attention from Henry.  When he didn’t get it… he bit Henry on the ankle… Henry took in stride.

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Alternate Realities

Carol Bierach in Alternate Realities
A Group Show at Hang Art Gallery, May 2006

no images were found

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The new wickamo.com

wickamo.com is now powered by wordpress… Should be a lot easier to add new content!!

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The Ballad of Fisherman Thundershake

The Ballad of Fisherman Thundershake

Fisherman Thundershake pulled up his sleeves
And pushed the old oars to-and-fro in the water
Caught on the rudder trailed seaweed and leaves,
And some leftover clam, slimy, crushed by an otter.

The blue and gray nets grew wider to full
Convulsing fish gasped, gills chapped by the wind
Silent clouds rained on the calls of seagulls
Thundershake frowned; the hungry birds grinned.

An aged mermaid surfaced, singing sad folk songs
Of the dark ocean countryside deep
She boarded while old Thundershake hummed along.
The sun sank and they both fell asleep.

In Thundershake’s dreams his fish wheezed as tellers
Banking transactions of their economic deaths.
The mermaid dreamt torture from cold seabed dwellers
In a fit in her sleep, she cried grappling for breath.

She awoke before dawn to see the moon falling
Just like the old sun—straight into the sea.
Far on the horizon lay sick mountains crawling
As if they could swim far enough to be free.

Free from the Earth, from the waves, from the wind
From the sea foam and scum-based expanses,
But the mountains, the mermaid, and old fisherman
Were all prone to entropic advances.

When Thundershake opened his leathery eyes
He found the boat empty—his fishing nets too.
That she set them all free was all he could surmise
And he sank like the sun and the moon.

October 2006
Katherine Bierach

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