Tuesday, June 30, 2020

Streetable #8

It used to comfort me, 
as a little girl, 
to look at my mother’s jewelry. 
I used to try on 
the heavy gold bracelets, 
the pearl necklaces, 
the rings, 
all at once. 
I liked pinning the brooches 
in a line down my chest, 
the fabric of my shirt 
sagging from the weight.

Elizabeth Berg, Open House



"All You Need Now, Edith, is Lipstick," Little Bear Said
4 x 6" postcard; acrylic, ink, fabric paint, and collage
abstract
2020

before Edith and Little Bear discovered
the beautiful dressing room with the big mirror


Monday, June 29, 2020

Streetable #7

Every single damn thing 
that we are 
or ever will be 
is dependent on six inches of topsoil 
and the fact that the rain comes 
when it’s needed 
and does not come 
when it is not needed, 
everything, 
every … 
single … 
thing 
comes with that luck.

Gary Paulsen, Clabbered Dirt, Sweet Grass


The Comfort of a Tree's Spiny Bark
4 x 6" postcard; acrylic, pencil, and collage
abstract
2020

neither wearing makeup nor wishing to appear to be

Sunday, June 28, 2020

Streetable #6

How have you been? he asks,
after a swallow of coffee,
which always smells so good
but when you taste it
you get a bitter surprise.
And you always
want to taste it again
because how could your nose
be so wrong?
but it is.

Elizabeth Berg, Joy School



After the Percolator Finishes Gurgling and Spitting
4 x 6" postcard; acrylic, pencil, and collage
abstract
2020

before any morning joe

Thursday, June 25, 2020

Streetable #5

When I was in third grade, 
I told my fellow students 
that the woman who invented math 
had been killed in a fire. 
It was a good thing, I said, 
because she was putting 
the finishing touches 
on something even worse than math, 
something the schools 
were aching to get their hands on.

Michael Cadnum, Edge



Sharing Things You Found Out Only a Short Time Ago Yourself
4 x 6" postcard; acrylic and collage
abstract
2020


basic idea

Wednesday, June 24, 2020

Streetable #4

He called 
when he found a house for us. 
A nice ordinary house, 
he promised. 
'You won’t find a single adjective 
to apply to it. 
It’s the kind of house 
that destroys adjectives.'

Rosellen Brown, Before and After



On the Inland Side of Highway 1
4 x 6" postcard; acrylic, latex, pencil, and collage
abstract
2020

unedited

Tuesday, June 23, 2020

Streetable #3

She saw Georgia's quiet rapture—
she couldn't have been more than ten—
the first time she made
a tidy French embroidery knot.

Jacquelyn Mitchard, A Theory of Relativity



It Feels Like I'm Talking With a Friend
4 x 6" postcard; acrylic, pencil, oil pastel, and collage
abstract
2020

before revision


Monday, June 22, 2020

Streetable #2

Mr. Devlin keeps dropping things
onto the armchair:
a pair of brown leather shoes
all [worn and] creased,
some china plates with chips in them,
a tiny kettle, and
a rolled-up checkered blanket.
These are all things
that Leon would like to touch.

Kit de Waal, My Name Is Leon




Everything Is Old but Nothing Is Dirty
4 x 6" postcard; acrylic, paint stick, oil pastel, and collage
abstract
2020



rough draft