artist at play
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Random Acts of Art, #2
A Keepsake, For Pete’s Sake! Uncle Oscar stores a collection of tchotchkesbehind the glass-fronted door of a cabinet at 40 School Street,a wide cabinet made of polished cherry inside of which sit at least twelve or thirteen small ceramic boxer dogs andeverything Aunt Frances saved from her actual pet boxer, Smudge, including a piece of blue Continue reading
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Random Acts of Art, #1
Shoplifting in Reverse Amanda invites all to participate and playin her annual art giveaway:create four or more small quick joyful works of art,no perfection needed, just start!,label them as free,leave them in public where folks will see—barbershop, mini-mart, library shelf, grocery cart,you name it,sky’s the limit—and walk away grinning,all parties winning. Because, as Amanda says, Continue reading
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Summer Rhythms
See Them see them now, she paints in her studio or writes at her desk,he works in his garden. at intervals,with no awareness of the other,each steps back, squints to take in the overall effect.she adds a brush stroke here, selects a different word there,he plants a seed, prunes overgrowth, pulls weeds. see them now, Continue reading
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You Are My Sunshine
They Will(with thanks to RWT for a poem frame) after fifty years, she knowshis yawn is the roar of a lion. he knows if she sneezes onceshe will sneeze for minutes on end. she will change the framed calendar posters on the first of each month.he will replace the batteries in the smoke detectors. together Continue reading
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Stepping Lively
Skipping Rope Today, joy is skipping rope,exuberant and carrying hopewith lightness of heart, nota smidgen of heaviness on her partnor even a backward glanceas, with great cheer, she chants:teddy bear teddy bear turn aroundteddy bear teddy bear touch the ground!feet are lifting, hands are spinningvoice is lilting, face is grinningjoy calls out in feisty glee:policeman Continue reading
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Thriller
High Voltagecan you hear the fizz? like high-voltage power lines overhead, with their corona dischargeand magneto-striction,the artist buzzes with the thrumof her own sparking electricity,of having run full tilt into what used to be a tiny bedroomuntil it became a makeshiftcreative space some years ago,hand in hand with a musewho’s grabbed herand insisted on collaboratingin Continue reading
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Poking Around Writing and Painting
Swords Drawn i pin my spinythorny bristly thistle ofan afternoon to the ground, but it flips me and declares itself the victor. —dotty seiter ===== ===== Notes about poem and art:• “Swords” is another tanka, a five-line poetry form with syllables in lines of 5 , 7, 5, 7, 7. Such short forms delight me Continue reading
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Navigating Day to Day
Struggling when her father received a barbor other disapproving commenthe would smile and say— occasionally with just the very barest almost imperceptible hint of snark— thank you! she thinks of her father now,as she considers dispiritedly the lies, chaos, upheaval,disinformation, divisiveness, and lawlessnessof her country’s current government.she takes a deep deep breath,drills way down, dials Continue reading
My Story
In 2014, I grab an unexpected opportunity to paint.
To make art.
I get hooked.
In 2015 I start a blog—a diary of my life as an artist.
I post my paintings and their stories. The good, the bad, the ugly.
My compass points: bust through fear, be playful, get messy, trust my gut.
dottyseiter: now playing 