open house

at sixty-four years
i hear a knock at my door,
odd enough, just that,

but i turn the knob
and there stands painting—big grin.
i say, come on in!
 
not hesitating
in the least, i tell you true,
it opens windows

wide, flings open doors
i am long in the habit
of keeping bolted,

marches into rooms
i didn’t know existed,
for pete’s sake! and then,

seeing ev’rything
open in invitation,
poetry enters

ready to spill out
and make itself known, too, bold
as brass on the page!

so i find myself
painting and writing most days,
all these years along

still a beginner
unfailingly at my edge,
learning whate’er’s next. 

even now—ev’ry
time—before i begin: short
of breath, heart in throat.

—dotty seiter

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Notes about poem and art:
• I set myself the challenge of writing in a string of haiku verses; ended up with my story told in 170 syllables! Vis à vis my creative practice, “open house” is a combined short history, current update, and nod to the start of a new art exploration.
• With I Hear a Knock I set myself the challenges of using watercolor paints on a page from Little Women instead of on watercolor paper, overlaying gold neurographic linework on black, and incorporating collage cut from a roofing advert delivered to my curbside mailbox.