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Today and Yesteryear
What Are the Odds whatd’ya wanna betthere’s a woman just like me somewheremaybe just around the corner here in townmaybe a few states away but for sure born in new jerseywearing a second-hand short-sleeved stretch-cotton scoop-neck teereveling in today’s almost-summer wind gusts sweeping her skinfeet in flip flopstwo toes taped because of a tight tendonegg… Continue reading
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Hypnagogic Hints
Even as My Empty Hand Reaches my head heavy on my pillowconsciousness in a slidefrom wakefulnessto sleepi notice my mindcomposing linesof poetrylush phrasesintricate cadencesmeaning-dense metaphorsthat— in the darkof nightin the presence of gravity’s pull on my bodyin the absenceof paper and pencil at hand—evaporateinto a breathingmicro-mist create a biomefor deep deep dreams i wonder will… Continue reading
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If I Am Very Still
Thrumming With Energy waiting for clearanceto land, poems circling ina holding pattern —dotty seiter ===== ===== Notes about poem and art: • I enjoy working with the haiku form, having something I wish to say and 17 syllables at my disposal with which to say it; three lines—of 5 syllables, then 7, then 5. •… Continue reading
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Movement
Pep in My Step my little black stone of a heart?the one lodged dark in my chest a few days back? a pebble in my shoe,so to speak,signifying through painthe chafing ofthinking brainagainst knowing heart i shook the pebble out—minuscule, black, heart-shaped!—retied my shoebegan walking againstraight and true —dotty seiter ===== ===== Notes about poem… Continue reading
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Into the Unfolding of the Day
Kaleidoscopic Shift of One Degree in a phone conversation early on a sunny green-leafed spring morningi make referenceto my little black stone of a heart. more than once. i stand stock stillhearing myselfvoice the hard unyielding words. what dark unforgiving storyam i telling myself? i praya question:might there beanother wayto see this? i make breakfast,eat my protein… Continue reading
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Keeping Myself Open
Reception first light’s one step ahead of meas i step into the gentle outdoorsat 430a in early june my predawn footfalls a backbeatfor sparrows and starlingsalreadyrockin’ ‘n’ rollin’ the dayopen-beakedfull-throated —dotty seiter ===== Meeting This Grief4 x 5.5″; acrylic, ink, and oil pastels on canvas paperabstract design on notecard (opened flat here)2025 ===== Notes about… Continue reading
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Deeply Seen and Known
Anne Is Anne is a mold and decklemade from wood scraps and screen,a round of art at her kitchen table,a dollar-a-pound bag of ragman findsready to becomebook covers for hand-bound pages penned by handwith Kathryn Gibbs exactitude —dotty seiter ===== Notes about poem and art: Two weeks ago friend Anne sends me another envelope of… Continue reading
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Discovery
Who Knew?For weeks,months,to no good effect,I tell myself I want to spend more time making artin the maker space I call my studio.Turns outthe only way to spend more timemaking artin the maker spaceI call my studiois to enter the maker spaceI call my studioand make art. —dotty seiter ===== Note: Today’s “30 minutes” become… Continue reading
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No Matter What
Impromptu Perambulationi get a textfrom lossasking if i wantto go for a walk.yes, what time?we walk side by sidestep tenderlyinto painside by side.we step alsointo friendshipsynchronizedsimpaticoside by sidestep by steptogether in presencepeeling offour outer layers,heart rateselevatingstep by stepwarming usside by side —dotty seiter ===== Note: Today’s post comes courtesy of my commitment to 30 minutes… Continue reading
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Invitation
an exceedingly scheduled day opens with bluster, wind, and chill,a quarter moon,a brisk walk in first light; surprises me with a pocket of unscheduleeven as i write and review minutely calibrated timelines,perform concrete tasksin focused forward fashion; invites me— unplanned unlisted unexpected—into my studio,where i unmind,embody, letan ink-filled pipette pullwilly nilly marksand loopswith whisper friction… 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 