Call and Response: Collaboration at a Distance Round 13
In March 2020 when we went on lockdown due to the pandemic, the Shoebox Arts team created “Call and Response: Collaboration at a Distance” as a way to stay connected and to check in with and support each other. We are just finishing up Round 13 and have enjoyed the process, experiences and friendships that we have made. The project draws on the tradition of Jazz and Exquisite Corpse as a way for the artists to ping pong creatively off of each other.
Please join us for the opening reception of the online exhibition via zoom Sunday April 18, 11am-1pm pst.
Featured Artists:
Adeola Davis-Aiyeloja/Aazam Iriliam, Adrienne Cole/Ashley Ehrhardt, Alice Quarterman/Rebecca Bennett Duke, Anda Marcu/Shloka Shankar, Angela Aiosa/Shirley Murphy, Angela Brooks/Vija Doks, Ashli Kingfisher-Sisk/Lyla Paakkanen, Beatrice Antonie Martino/Leslie Pierce, Blanca Daniela Ramírez/Sina Evans, Bree Diaz/Marta Feinstein, Brenda Oelbaum/Vidhi Ashar, Çağlar Tahiroğlu/Alexandra Boaru, Cázares Cortéz/Lidia Kaku, Conchi Sanford/Zhenya Muhina, Cynthia Cole/Serena Potter, Debbie Swanson Patrick/Candice Greathouse, Dellis Frank/Andrei Rodeanu, Donal O’Sullivan/Endika Basaguren , Elena Viktorovna Stromberger/Payal Chakraborty, Eliza Day-Green/Jody Zellen, Francisco Alvarado/Genie Davis, Galina Kovshilovsky/Eva Poulopoulou, Heather Arndt/Pradnya Kapshikar, Hope Ezcurra/Michelle Andrade, Ilke Ilter/Anne M Bray, June Stoddard/Sean-Michael Gettys, Kayla Cloonan/Breanna Martins, Kendra Larson/Amanda Champ, Kerrie Smith/Ashley Violet Hester, Kristine Augustyn/Leonardo Francisco, Lara Buffard/Stephanie Han, Larisa-Elena Stan/Matt Milligan, Leah Cupino/Theresa Francisco, Madara Tropa/Elisabeth Kelvin, Madeline Arnault/Sonji Art, Mahalia X. Smith/Devon Paulson, Marthe Aponte/K Muldoon, Mary Frances Christine, Ruffatto/Eva-Marie Amiya, Natasha Rudenko/Ameyalli Gutiérrez, Nino Khundadze/Dave Clark, Pau Gold/Zarnescu Andrei, Rachel Barnard/Marquise Grace, Rhiannon Barry/Michele Mekel, Sabene Rizvi/Iris Peretz, Sandra Mueller/Kamelyta, Sarah Soward/Adriana Zúñiga Velásquez, Skye Amber Sweet/Stacy Prihoda, Sue Cutler/Carla Pohl, Sue Jenkins/Julie O’Sullivan, Susan Dickman/Hannah Jeremiah, Taarn Scott/Aya Sabry, Victoria Martino/Debra Vodhanel
Call and Response: Collaboration at a Distance Round 1 can be seen here Round 2 can be seen here Round 3 can be seen here and Round #4 can be seen here Round 5 can be seen here Round 6 can be seen here Round 7 can be seen here Round 8 can be seen here Round 9 can be seen here Round 10 can be seen here Round 11 can be seen here Round 12 can be seen here
Cover photo by Mary Frances Ruffatto
Adeola Davies-Aiyeloja and Aazam Irilian
Adrienne Cole and Ashley Ehrhardt
Alice Quarterman and Rebecca Bennett Duke
Anda Marcu and Shloka Shankar
Angela Aiosa and Shirley Murphy
Angela Brooks and Vija Doks
Ashli Kingfisher and Lyla Paakkanen
Beatrice Antonie Martino and Leslie Pierce
Blanca Daniela Ramírez and Sina Evans
Bree Diaz and Marta Feinstein
Brenda Oelbaum and Vidhi Ashar
- Vidhi Ashar, Dark Amber
nine years have passed,
the dark amber paints a wistful picture.
it is the same sound every morning,
the echo of your laughter that draws me to these woods.
are you right here?
or,
have you faded into the space between these branches?
nine years have passed,
walking by these woods, i am still seeking an answer.
it is the same tree right here,
your touch still lingers,
the ache that gets through my bone!
are you right here?
or,
have you faded into the space between these branches?
i’ll never know…
- Vidhi Ashar, what mornings feel like
i was no one, in the middle of nowhere.
it is beautiful around here.
but me? i’m a wrecked mess!
the leaves rustle,
the chilly air bites my skin,
sucking every strength left in me.
i am not the devil,
i am tired of telling them!
my voice is frail,
the dry spell casts a curse upon me!
i was no one, in the middle of nowhere.
i do hear something though-
a sound that seems too familiar.
it is another night of agony.
i hear the rumbling sound of the engine.
ah, my fate is here!
here it comes crushing me over…
and here i am,
pieces of me scattered
amongst the foliage of leaves.
i am finally numb!
it is dim,
the wind can no longer knock me over,
laughing at this wreck.
until today, i never knew what mornings felt like.
as i lay here, something illuminates the dark space of my eyes.
my eyelids flutter,
i see a hue-
hope!
closer, at the touch of its radiance,
i become whole again.
- Vidhi Ashar- Becoming Her
december- that is when i met her.
to me, she happens to be quite an adventure!
her mind- a maze of countless stories.
her stories- the different blues of the ocean.
unlike her, i have been glued to one place.
i am nothing but all white!
it was another day in december,
hand in hand, we were going far away.
she nudged me,
i was elevated to where she belonged.
little did i know,
she was filling me with her blues.
little did i know that
i too, was becoming one of the stories…
- Vidhi Ashar- Pattern
golden lights, red umbrellas, the pastel sky!
my solace lies in this street.
everyone can be found here:
the content,
the shattered,
the hopeful,
and the clueless- like me.
i am a little bit like this street-
the peculiarity of impromptu patterns.
i catch a glimpse of a narrow trail,
deviate , and stroll towards the antique shop.
there was something oddly satisfying about being here.
dainty figures, rusted signboards, and vintage melodies!
whilst being spellbound, the old lady caught me by surprise.
like me, she had an element of curiosity.
far from the typical,
she did not ask me what my name was.
or where i came from.
she only smiled,
handed over a piece of broken china to me.
the odd yet gratifying gesture took me off guard.
that night, a cobweb of questions formed in my mind.
i needed an answer:
the broken piece – what did she mean?
i went by to see her again.
instead of letting her know my doubts,
out of the blue,
i confessed to her what my cobwebs were really made of.
in response ,
she uttered only one sentence
and give me another broken piece.
i may have found an answer.
the broken pieces?
a token of wisdom from her to me.
days went by,
my musings and the pieces became the pattern i treasured the most!
at dusk,
i looked at the pieces that were laid out.
i found another answer.
my expeditions will have pieces that do not fit.
i need not have straight lines,
i was perfectly content with uneven edges.
my pattern did not need to make sense
as long as the picture held my peculiarity.
- Vidhi Ashar- Black Stones
i, like the others, am a black stone.
to some we are ugly.
to some, fascinating.
we do not really belong anywhere,
other than just lying around on a couple of roads.
some keep us in their pockets.
some kick us when they wish to.
i , however, have been kicked again!
right now,
i am partly under the water.
like our colour,
what lies within us shall always remain concealed.
i see a figure coming towards this stream.
today, someone picks me up.
i was never chosen before.
into his pocket i go,
and i am not the only one.
i do not know who this man is,
or why he chose us.
i only know that, one by one,
he carves us.
we are now a clutter of
blue and white stones.
some of us are perplexed,
some, grateful
and some like me are overwhelmed!
i have been to different places,
but never been found.
i think that is what we black stones are about-
constant, aloof, like the shades of despair.
from different roads we have been picked up.
i am now blue.
in my expanse, you shall find yourself in different waters.
in chaos, the calm comes from me.
at times, i may also weigh you down.
i am now blue, swimming with my whites.
all we ever wanted was just to be found.
Çağlar Tahiroğlu and Alexandra Boaru
Conchi Sanford and Zhenya Mukhina
Cynthia Cole and Serena Potter
Debbie Swanson Patrick and Candice Greathouse
Dellis Frank and Andrei Rodeanu
Don Salvo and Endika Basaguren
dav 
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Elena Stromberger and Payal Chakraborty
dav 
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Eliza Day-Green and Jody Zellen
Francisco Alvarado and Genie Davis
1a Francisco Alvarado The Rooster
THE ROOSTER
AWAKE
FOR ALL
TO HEAR
THE NIGHT
IS ENDING
THE SKY
IS BRIGHT
WITH SOUND
Awake
#INFOPOST US ZONE and WORLDWIDE
*TRANSLATE2ALLLANGUAGES
2a Genie Davis Spring
Spring
Is there something despairing in me,
something that refutes the cerulean blue orbs of morning,
the crowing of delight?
The colorful fabric of the still
star-encrusted sky unfolds,
like the garment of a fine feathered beauty
taking flight.
The symbol of the season,
pagan, Hebrew, Catholic
birth of the unborn, the eggs
halved and perfect
precede an array of feasts,
that in friendship and love we eat.
Sweet legacy
another holiday passes
rigged with memory,
a pure longing to reclaim
treasure lost. Crack me open,
there is an embryo only of loss.
When we sing of rebirth and resurrection,
of the wings of death passing over,
of carrying a cross of
unbearable unrecognized weight,
of the seas parted, of slavery torn asunder
of the nails you hammer even now –
yes the despair is there.
In the heart of this risen
Spring. We need more passage
of time. I will pull the covers over
my head and tell myself
I will just sleep
until then. I cannot have the rock
roll back as yet.
I need to shiver in the blackness
of the cave,
and close my eyes against
the radiant daylight,
in a world without you,(
when I hear the sound of your name.
- Genie Davis
3a Francisco Alvarado Kuentos
Kuentos
Myths
Lost in translation
In time
In thought
Hope
I get inspired by walking
The colors
The shapes
Stop
Don’t move
Feel the breeze
On your face
On your arms
Breathe
Exhale
Keep Going
All eyes on me
20 Dolla
In my pocket
Jesus Walks
Breathe
I am tired
Take a break
Smell the flowers
On
Keep going
What is ahead
What makes you get up
Rest
The sun will come up ……
We make marks
Look for signs
Mark the spot
Pass it on
Its a secret
listen
For the Song
The Drum
The Elder
Wing
Spider
…. in my mind Listening to songs from my youth.
Francisco Alvarado
4a Genie Davis I Didn’t Want This
I Didn’t Want This
Orbs, words,
circling.
I sing of another time when
I didn’t want to …
I didn’t want to leave
the field of orange poppies
simmering in the sun,
or admit the facts of
fortune cookies were
overdone.
I didn’t want to see
what I saw –
the artifice of your face,
the lack of giving and grace.
I didn’t want to
end the night under stars
frosted with cold,
or the hours before dawn when
the aquamarine pool emptied
and shone like a gem
floating in the velvet setting
of a humid aching Carolina night.
Phosphorescent fishes,
fireworks.
Exploded dim wishes,
missing the soft baby cheek
that was love.
I did too much.
Listened too little
to the calamities of your soul.
You play the sad violin,
but the lyrics
make no sense it’s like a
quasi-death.
I sing strange fragments
from operas,
the great tragedy of life
and coincidence,
You heard the word ‘No’
I didn’t want you to go.
Not down this road
steaming through New Orleans
to the sea where
orbs, moonlit, dance on oily water.
- Genie Davis
6a Genie Davis
End.
Where does the rainbow end?
Arcs of radiant prisms send
a circuitry out into the holy sea –
of something like destiny.
When does the hope amend?
When will we dance again?
To music, I once carried
the baby in my arms.
There is a resurrection of thought,
focused on pale blue
forget-me-nots, and beauty
it shivers as it disappears.
Into the mist I go,
slipping past a future I’ll never know,
into the long ago and lost,
I leave.
Dissolving above the trees,
dissipating in a shimmer of leaves,
masked and magic
this thief steals
only time.
And that is the truth if it,
in the end it won’t matter a bit
none of the memories –
Pink
Gold
Fuschia
Lime
None of it was meant to last,
beyond the web of the past.
None of it real,
least of all ever brilliantly colored mine.
- Genie Davis
7a Francisco Alvarado Start the Journey
Start the Journey
Every day
Is a new day
Unknown
Undiscovered
Unexplored
Unexplained
Tomorrow is
Another
Day
Francisco Alvarado
8 Genie Davis Light
Light
Opalescent, iridescent,
peacock feather,
sublime rush of
sunset cloud.
Come together,
retreat and weather
every storm that hope allows.
We have found
the violet core
within the sweeping
central shifting floor,
where ddimensional rapport
is ever shifting.
In and out of focus,
into the breach!
Remember that I loved you
now that love is out of reach.
Shape for me a great and visceral
plain, alight with color, shapes,
from within the darknesses ache.
So we should hope and rest
and pray
in the unfocused curve
of voluptuous day…
Take a leap into an unknown
like a king
robbed of his throne,
and everything
that I’ve ever know
Is breaking down and
heading home.
It’s daylight now.
- Genie Davis
9a Francisco Alvarado A normal day
A normal day
Just like
Yesterday
Inconsequential
Unnoticeable
What makes
A day
Consequential
Noticeable
A normal day
Hope
Francisco Alvarado
10a Genie Davis Light Years
The plan
I see an email in the inbox.
The second day that I sit outside and read them -under the pepper tree. Looking North to the mountain.
Past the pink flowers and the commanding young finch on top.
Nothing like a full flock bathed with the sunset.
Thank you for pause in my life.
The Day
I stand up look South, a painting has been there – for a long time.
I have seen it change with time.
My gaze is turned just above, catching a fluttering orange.
The branches sway on the tree above the wall. Unstoppable
I feel the wind on my hair and cheeks, the chimes behind me ring. Softly
A Sign
A Signal
A new day, just like yesterday.
On
Francisco Alvarado
11a Francisco Alvarado The plan
The plan
I see an email in the inbox.
The second day that I sit outside and read them -under the pepper tree. Looking North to the mountain.
Past the pink flowers and the commanding young finch on top.
Nothing like a full flock bathed with the sunset.
Thank you for pause in my life.
The Day
I stand up look South, a painting has been there – for a long time.
I have seen it change with time.
My gaze is turned just above, catching a fluttering orange.
The branches sway on the tree above the wall. Unstoppable
I feel the wind on my hair and cheeks, the chimes behind me ring. Softly
A Sign
A Signal
A new day, just like yesterday.
On
Francisco Alvarado
Fresh New Green
Welcome to the root of things,
the blossomed raw opening,
the place where sacred seeds collide,
born along on a brave new tide.
Where were you just an hour ago,
when the light put on its splendid show,
when there was no place I knew or know,
And the waves came rolling in…
The mystery of the stars tonight.
Orbs of astrology and astral flight,
my moon, your rising, the planets spin,
all of us will face the same reckoning.
Every road leads to the same destination,
you said so in a dream.
There, small glass bottles filled with sand
filled a white box in your pale hand,
and I stored the box
in a secret place of my heart.
Walled off, the way one does,
with things we uncover,
and do not wish to resee –
along with that which foretells fate,
ends that must unravelling wait,
until the creaking gate swings.
And I head forth into the fragmented day,
where the new place has aged itself away.
There, we may stand among fond shadows
by the lost sea, knowing everything.
12 Genie Davis Fresh New Green
Fresh New Green
Welcome to the root of things,
the blossomed raw opening,
the place where sacred seeds collide,
born along on a brave new tide.
Where were you just an hour ago,
when the light put on its splendid show,
when there was no place I knew or know,
And the waves came rolling in…
The mystery of the stars tonight.
Orbs of astrology and astral flight,
my moon, your rising, the planets spin,
all of us will face the same reckoning.
Every road leads to the same destination,
you said so in a dream.
There, small glass bottles filled with sand
filled a white box in your pale hand,
and I stored the box
in a secret place of my heart.
Walled off, the way one does,
with things we uncover,
and do not wish to resee –
along with that which foretells fate,
ends that must unravelling wait,
until the creaking gate swings.
And I head forth into the fragmented day,
where the new place has aged itself away.
There, we may stand among fond shadows
by the lost sea, knowing everything.
- Genie Davis
13a Francisco Alvarado On
On
Today was another day, just like yesterday.
Inconsequential
The to do’s were done, the marks made.
on checklists
I have wished to see Earth from above – to fly like birds fly untethered. To see it all with the freedom of a jump of letting go for parts unknown.
That flight on the Space Shuttle will have to wait. I will be content catching the next sunset.
Another inconsequential day.
The sun is raising.
14a Genie Davis
Go High
The desperate cries of hungry cats.
Get up, get up – don’t lie there like that,
the world is round,
it isn’t flat.
There’s plenty of new ways
this great ball of yarn could roll.
So get up, get up –
and fill our bowls.
It’s all the sweetest to butterflies,
honey and nectar
through their short lives.
From pupa to wings
in one grand span.
(I remember the time when
you clung to my hand).
The cats will circle,
you lift high in flight.
No reckoning now.
Just pure delight.
Sail on, quick beauty,
the pursuit will come.
But you can still rise above.
You will breathe, escape,
go high – and briefly, deeply love.
Galina Kovshilovsky and Eva Poulopoulou
1-Galina Kovshilovsky-The worriness, pause and deep breathing… Life is not easy to walk over, at Boulder city, Colorado Tragedy 
2-Eva Poulopoulou_Invasion 
3-Galina Kovshilovsky- “I’m thinking, fast and slow”. She is open to interact deeply 
4-Eva Poulopoulou_The Feast 
5-Galina Kovshilovky-“You Have to Be Their”. ~ Playing with light and colors, hoping to bring transformation to beauty, love and happiness 
6-Eva Poulopoulou_Haunted Guitar 
7-Galina Kovshilovsky-What a day for me! I found 4 leaves clover, I were searching everywhere…and it was in my garden. Love you nature 
8-Eva Poulopoulou_The Red Coat 
9-Galina Kovshilovsky-to contrast with reality using mathematical formula, and calculating the pass where our red hood is going 
10-Eva Poulopoulou_The Path 
11-Galina Kovshilovsky-beautiful Spring is in the air, the lively girls friendship is dominating, while hidden “flying wolf” personality is in development! 
12-Eva Poulopoulou_Summer, In the wilderness 
13-Galina kovshilovsky Natural transformation is engaging in conversation how we think and create 
14-Eva Poulopoulou_Transformation 
15-Galina Kovshilovsky-We are not their yet, but dreaming is a must while cruising 
16-Eva Poulopoulou_Diver 
17-Galina kovshilovsky-Stop Tragedy and materialize Joy 
18_Eva Poulopoulou_Nothing To See Here
Heather Arndt and Pradnya Kapshikar
Hope Ezcurra and Michelle Andrade
Ilke Ilter and Anne M Bray
June Stoddard and Sean-Michael Gettys
Kayla Cloonan and Breanna Martins
Kendra Larson and Amanda Champ
Kerrie Smith and Ashley Violet Hester
Kristine Augustyn and Leonardo Francisco
Lara Buffard and Stephanie Han
Larisa Elena Stan and Matt Milligan
Leah Cupino and Theresa Francisco
Madara Tropa and Elisabeth Kelvin
Madeline Arnault and Sonji Art
Mahalia Smith and Devon Paulson
Martha Aponte and K Muldoon
Mary Frances Ruffatto and Eva-Marie Amiya
Processed with MOLDIV 
Natasha Rudenko and Ameyalli Gutierrez
Nino Khundadze and Dave Clark
Pau Gold and 2 Andrei Zarnescu
Rachel Barnard and Marquise Grace
Rhiannon Barry and Michele Mekel
Sabene Rizvi and Iris Peretz
B1 Sabene Rizvi-2
Reflections
Reflection,
I see it as I look at the metal box in front of me,
The metal box inside which I keep my heart locked up,
Locked up its pieces so that they would stay together at least,
Stay together and stay away from anyone trying to break it,
My reflection says to me what have you become,
What happened to dreams,
What happened to love,
Why are you chained to a desk slaving yourself away,
This isn’t you,
And it’s right it isn’t me,
It’s what society has made me,
I try to break free of the bonds,
Only for my hands to bleed and the chains to become tighter,
But it isn’t over yet,
They chains will break,
And I will be me once more
B1 Sabene Rizvi-2
There is Peace in Nature
It’s nice to sit in the forest,
To be one with nature,
The stillness of it all providing an escape from life,
And it’s fast pace,
One day I was five,
And the next fifteen,
People came and went,
But the forest,
It stayed there,
With open arms,
Ready to embrace me whenever I needed it,
It feels nice to come here with a book and just read,
Read my favorite author,
The sound of the crickets being a melody to read against,
Nature making me feel whole once more,
The floor is wet today,
For it rained lightly,
Rain which cleanses the burden on my soul,
Which makes my heart light,
Looking up at the sky,
It’s cloudiness reminds me that it’s okay to have thoughts rushing in your head,
For on some days it will be cloudy,
And on some days there will be starts,
Sitting here,
Reading,
Surrounded by nature,
And it’s animals,
It’s a sanctuary,
It provides peacefulness to me,
And my anxiety seems to melt,
I see that God made this place so beautiful,
But why couldn’t he make the human mind equally as beautiful and peaceful,
Why did it have to be so dark,
Man his own rust,
Maybe that is the test,
And we are responsible for our own beauty,
I’ll never know,
But what I do know is,
That I will be lowered into the ground,
And be one with nature,
And then I shall be at peace…
G1 Sabene Rizvi-7
Death’s Carte Blanche
A child sits outside a hospital room,
All she can hear is absolute silence
And the world has gone absolutely cold and distance,
Death looming nearby and if you listen close enough you can hear its eerie call,
Its joy in knowing that one day it will claim you
And the satisfaction in the fact that it will have caused so much pain and heartache before your time,
Through a lover, through a father and through all those you love.
For some death will be a release, freedom at last, they will go willingly
And for others it will be a fight against death’s carte blanche.
For the living, some will cry on the bosoms of their mothers like the child who sits waiting for a mother
That will never return and for some it will be the joy of knowing that an enemy has died or that they can
Cash in now, the heartlessness in not caring that someone is mourning the soul of the dead.
What a strange world we live in,
where people are happy knowing a life has ended,
where people only care about money.
Is this the world we truly want?
A life where we only care for money,
is this what the People are.
I shall wonder till the end of time and a message for death,
even in your clutches shall my Heart sing
and shall the fire in my soul decimate through every single pain you caused eternally.
