Monthly Archives: February 2012

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Upcoming Art of Autism Art Shows

The Art of Autism has three upcoming shows this spring. Information is courtesy of Debra Hosseini, editor of The Art of Autism.

NEWSFLASH! The 2012 edition is coming March 21, 2012 and includes 77 artists and poets on the spectrum (including me — my poem, “Letter to My Father”, is in the book)!

  • April 1 – April 30 at the Bohemia Coffee Shop in Ojai, California. There will be an art reception and book signing on April 15 — join Celebrate Autism and others at this event!
  • May 1 – May 31 at the Curious Cup Bookstore in Carpinteria, California. There will be an open Studio Art Tour during the weekend of May 12 – May 13. Also, there will be an art reception, book signing, and other events — details to be announced.
  • In collaboration with the Santa Barbara Art Walk for Kids, there will also be a show at the Faulkner Gallery May 1 – May 30. Details to be announced.
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Sky Drunk

(Persephone)

Every time I come up for air, I shovel
fistfuls of the sky into my mouth: the blue azure
berry wonderlands, tasting like superman sherbet tinctures
until they fade to nothing, climbing down my throat
to join the oceans behind my navel. When
I am done, there is a smear of sticky sweet
spread across my lips in post-hunger, turquoise afterglow –
and Hades knows where I have been:
and that is what happens on good days.
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To A Plane Tree

(The Morrígan)

If I could lean on a limb of yours
broken away and cast from your body –

a good solid limb, stripped of its old bark
and bearing brown scaled skin underneath –

then my legs would never give way,
and neither would my heart. If one queen
brought her husband to health underneath your uplifted arms,
then why can I not seek healing at your feet? I need relief
from the slow centuries still settled into my shoulders.
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Featured

Falling Stars

When stars fall, we marvel at what
shakes them loose, trying to see through
the warped glass block view of our tears
long enough to discern whether or not the earth itself
is jarred loose from its setting in the skies and
tumbles down like a errant jewel. We feel
each landing, bracing ourselves for collison,
our hearts grabbing with white knuckled fists onto
ribcage bars to steady themselves — and then, we say
that we cannot handle another impact.

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Pele Courts Vishnu, In Human Form

I have had my fingers burn with crimson delight,
electricity climbing nerves like a zig-zag bandit
to the top, tips glowing like thunderstorm light
proudly proclaiming desire. From there, the glow becomes
contagious, ever spreading throughout my
expanse of skin until I bloom, effulgent and dangerous –
I rage and flow inside every Cimmerian night.
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A Study in Color

If you see the paint on my shoes,
the imprint of color like lost angels
that slipped from brush tips, fell to Earth,
and landed, becoming color Rorschachs
upon another canvas, then know
that they are the words I lost from between lips and teeth,
accidental syllables of emerald, brick red, and azure
that flew too close to the sun.
Some land on the floor, imprinting onto my soles
once I walk across their wordless surfaces.

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