Call and Response: Collaboration at a Distance Round 14, Special Edition: Nature
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 14 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 March 27, 11am-1pm pst.
Cover photo by Sue Jenkins
Adeola Davies-Aiyeloja and Sandy Huse
Anda Marcu and Dellis Frank
Andi colombo and April Bermudez
Ann Storc and Ilke Iter
Anne M Bray and Kathryn Pitt
Ashley Hester and Christine Hippeli
Aurora Bewicke and Faina Kumpan
Austin Lubetkin and Lina Kogan
Betty Rosen and Robyn Alatorre
Corinne Lightweaver and Theresa Knopf
Cynthia Cole and Sina Evans
Debra Bianculli and Kess Kin
Elisabeth Kelvin and Michal Greenboim
Eva Marie Amiya and Julie Williams
Genie Davis and Maddie Maser
1 Genie Davis
All the selves you were are already past
There is something about tomorrow,
the invisible link
the inevitability of what was,
the return of what will be.
And if you find yourself lost,
at sea, on your knees
cajoling, capitulating, praying,
protesting, binging festival movies,
online, unlinked, tethered,
so it seems, those slivers of you
slide together in new ways.
There are more funerals,
“Celebrations of life,”
the backwards slip of time so fast.
And yet the future gleams.
Through a power outage
in a dark desert motel,
the night around you like
a blanket, the fire
blazing up against paler stars,
the light of which is just
distant but fiercer than any
flame. You ask my name.
I have changed that too,
in a heart adrift in clouds of snow.
White crowns on the cactus,
ruts dissolving down an empty road.
It is time to end resistance,
it’s time to go home.
3 Genie Davis
I am a Sky
I am a Sky full of stars,
Jupiter and Mars,
I am mother of pearl,
once a girl,
creature of loss,
in a forest of tears and rain.
I am a moon,
yellow in June,
liquid as light,
I am the cloud,
doubtful but proud,
shivering grey on the wind.
I am my skin,
howling the heath,
victim of peace,
waiting to break.
I am the wind beginning
spring on the flower,
the future – my power
But I may not see.
Blind as the air,
surfeit with care,
ever veiled but in view.
I am a sky,
I am you.
5 Genie Davis
Hear Me Now (Ghost Sounds Singing)
She’s still listening to the sounds of rivers,
the liquid infinitesimal fluttering
ff water wings and reeds.
If memory is
then so are these words (if you say them/see them).
We listen within this world together,
a song you cannot see.
Dragon flies dart blue emeralds across the boardwalk,
the hush of flight, sky path, the connection –
a train passes, the image flickers
restart the movie, draw the shades.
I waver in the sunlight,
half-forgotten on a shiny highway,
whose onward pull allures even the most sedentary of
creatures, flying tires, beating wings, and beating heart.
Suspended in air, the green sunlight
filtered through photosynthetic sunglass leaves,
the illusion is complete,
Until we elevate the truth
beyond reason, as if nature
itself were the words, the poetry, a feeling we are showing
through light, through color, through sound
an emotion that indicates
we capture what envelops us with
the music of wings.
That dragonfly again,
the barest fluttering of the heart,
the faintest ripple of memory
the scratching of shadows –
you may remember me.
In a fragment of song,
in a flower or a stone,
sparkling with the morning light,
still quiet and unknown.