inspired by rosemerry wahtola trommer
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The Grocery Store and the Church Fair
december 6evening, biting cold wind. tonight, grief is the canned soup sectionof the grocery store.she is happy to beout of the cold, happyfor good lighting and even footing, but whenshe notices a can of progresso minestrone on the shelfshe trips on an unexpected patch of loss,her eyes filling with the quickprick of tears even as Continue reading
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This Her Hymn
november 6430a, furnace just waking up. a mid-autumn morning’s waking begins,this mid-autumn morning’s waking,today’s waking. before she moves at allbefore auto-pilot kicks in with its robotic mindlessnessbefore reflexively jumping into go go go,instead,today,she chooseswakeful stillness first.here i am, she notices from withinand offers a silent prayer:slow. deep. quiet. in everything i do. instead of grinding Continue reading
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Question Exchange with Fellow Creative, Part 3
piatto principale the main course of creating,according to my poet/artist friend’s way of thinking,is not a particular meal or dish but, instead,an actual course—a flow, a pathway, a series of illuminatingmoments, an alchemy, a transcendence,a transformation, a lived experience highlysensory and immediate,a space outside of time and place,a threshold consciousnesswith which she becomes one,inhabiting it Continue reading
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Leafless in Hamilton
Sometimes Wonder Looks Like This trees in our neighborhood busied themselvesfor weeks this autumn, first merely hinting atand then blazing with color,then no sooner blazingthan losing their leaves to windor rain, or both. day after day, leaves fell all over the place,dried in yards, skittered on our street, crackled under our feetand found their way Continue reading
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Portraiture
Staring Contest you might see my sensibly-short layered white hairbut might not see my long blond kindergarten braids set off by straight-across high-cut bangsnor my sexy has-great-movement college-years shag-cut that falls below the shoulders you might see my all-way-stretch fleece leggings, you might not see my adorable checkered seersucker shorts-and-sleeveless-blouse outfit exactly like best friend Continue reading
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Finding Ground in New Terrain
Poet’s Construction Supervisor License you invite me toreframe my house, leave doors and windows open wide —dotty seiter ===== ===== Notes about poem and art:• “License” is a straight-up haiku in traditional syllabic format that I wrote as part of a thank-you note to poet Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer whose poetry and classes have situated me 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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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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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
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Taking a Good Look at Things
Blind Contour Drawing: Self-Portrait i am the oldest of five,now matriarch in my family line,i am little mama, ma, and mom, i am gma, and alsobride to my hubby for five decades and counting.hubby, by the by, changes his clothes several times a day—when he takes his morning walk, when he gardens,when he goes for 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 