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Dotty Wassily Kandinsky, #2: Something Old, Something New
Milky Way The whisper of my milk in the night is the shout of wintermelt spraying, splashing down a mountain. Meg’s fine bone-china jaw compresses, tiny tongue tugs my breast. Sweet and sure. I feed her. She fills me. Her satin foot dances upside down on my cheek, static sparking. By this night light I Continue reading
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Dotty Wassily Kandinsky, #1: Two Nine-Patches
Signifiers hansel and greteltrail bread crumbs behind them tomark their way back home i drive to qigongclass, no one there, wrong time, no!so irritating still, a crumb pointing Home, this wee chance to practicebreathing with what is —dotty seiter ===== ===== Notes about poem and art:• Haiku! I thrive on the challenge of the tight Continue reading
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Afternoon, Early Summer, Hot and Humid
Across and Down although muth used to do a daily crossword puzzlei do not.even so, will shortzwould no doubt be quickto point outthat i nonethelessengage with puzzlesevery day. what’s a 10-letter word, 4th letter i, for activelyand repeatedly dislikingthe color of the blossomsof the rhody in our back yard,a pinkish purplish hue thatmisses the mark—and Continue reading
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A Way Forward in Life
New Prescription Glasses these drips of honeysoft lenses refracting lifeeven grief sweetened —dotty seiter ===== ===== Notes about poem and art:• I highly recommend Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer’s All the Honey. RWT’s poetry and ways of being curious have inspired me to adventure back into writing poetry and to be more mindfully curious myself, for which Continue reading
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Driving Home From an Appointment
Working Title: Tinnient Contemplation driving home a few days agofrom an audiology appointmenton the first sunny dayin what seemed like foreveri got to musing about posting art-in-progress at my blog,about the chaos layersof mark-makingand first brushstrokes,the formlessnessmoving towards form,the total paintovers,the rotation of orientationfrom landscapeto portrait,the messy middles,the tiny tweaks,the tentative experiments,the grand gesturalboldnessesfollowed bymore Continue reading
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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
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 