This gallery contains 9 photos.

Originally posted on Mary Lamphere:
? I’m trying to pace myself– to keep Word of Art on your radar without beating you over the head with it. It’s just… I’M SO EXCITED! I have collected all of the canvases and will begin photographing them for the book soon. [gallery ids="671,672,673,674,675,676" orderby="rand"] (these are just teasers!)…


She is…

She is alive



Her forgotten
beneath her feet
in quiet evening mist
by memory’s tombstones
and uneven ground

Her wishes
born like starlight
across constellations
behind the line of dawn
where her dragons sleep

Her hope
worn on her hip
for that double edged sword
to fill her body like
a river meets the sea

Her lessons
on torn paper
from accidental tales
wide to disappointment
a door to her belief

She is…

She is alive

Aunt Rhoda 4

She is…
She is reborn
Spread beneath the stars
On strings pulled tight from invisible heaven
Her fingers pluck the tune

A starlight taker

She is the tour guide
A route through memory’s artifacts
The line forms to the left
To buy cheap replicas of her dreams

An artful faker

She is pleasure and pain
Your never ending wish
The long way home
Easy answer, lucky guess

A story maker

She is burned alive
Her ashes drift in wind swept seas
Sink into the dark
The hidden lonely depths

Starlight taker

Artful faker

Story maker

She is as she was
Caught below the surface
On strings pulled tight from invisible heaven
Her fingers pluck the tune

Pandora artist: Warwick Goble source:

artist: Warwick Goble


She smiles when she asks
what would life be
deprived of beautiful Chance
with her dirty hands
running ahead
to dig rabbit holes in our paths

you shrug
that’s how it is with our kind
with ugliness
and pride
kept safe in a box

she replies
with our beauty
our courage
and our hope
If you surrender to curiosity
and look


Photo by Alfred Stieglitz, 1920


She stood
in snail paced, ancient wonder
through the center of gravity
by the stillness of a spinning world
in ordinary time
emptied the calendar
found herself
lost her mind

No shelter, no justice,
no greed, no crime
only a world
given birth in decay
shattered earth, and night,
and day
while she found herself
through the center
in ordinary time


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