Category Archives: poetry

I WILL KEEP DANCING: Grace. Happy Mother’s Day to my little boy.

https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

1 Comment

Filed under and angels, art, books, children, cool stuff, diary, duality, dysfunction, enlightenment/spirit, existentialism, film, imperfection, life, love, mental illness, MUSIKKKKK, nature, people, photography, poetry, random, sadness, saints, saints, sinners, and angels, sinners, stupidity, The Good Life, Uncategorized

Perfect.

Perfect..

 

 

3 Comments

Filed under art, diary, duality, existentialism, humor, imperfection, life, love, people, poetry, sadness, saints, sinners, and angels, stupidity

Do you like art and the creative process? Does the “eccentric” life of the “typical” artist intrigue you? Scare you? Amuse you? Inspire you? Read on…

Allo allo!

I would like to cordially invite you to join my ARTISTS’ group on Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/JJCunninghamArtLove/

It is a private, invitation-only group,  but if you request membership, an admin will approve you as long as you’re not a bot.

Not only do I post my own work and artistic musings, as well as upcoming shows and #contemporary #art news, but I have SO MANY uber-talented friends worldwide, whose work I love to share with the public every day.

You could be one of them! All art is the soul, ergo beautiful.

So far the group has almost 4k  (!!! — so grateful) members, so if you would like to either be a voyeur or an exhibitionist, please be my guest.

To me, my readers and followers are all VIPs.

Try it out and see if you like it…you can always leave! Ain’t no Hotel California, lol…

Feel free to also follow me on #Twittter: @jjgrape.

(I heretofore take no responsibility for any profanities or insanities contained therein. Twitter is fun! No rules. Just what we painters like best.)  😀

4cf08d9c1a031146b1d0ea3c3b7e89a3 2122_59292043091_4149_n

OPHELIA SWIMS. 2013. Oil, gold leaf, tears, and poppy dust on wood. 18x24

It’s my happy place — besides the library, the easel, or in front of my iMac. 🙂

Above are a few samplings of my paintings, but this group is dedicated to sharing the work of my many artist friends from all around the globe: a virtual #gallery of sorts! What fun.

(But it is strictly bring your own wine and cheese… 😦  Sincere apologies. Hehe.)

Cheers,

JJC

Leave a comment

Filed under and angels, art, books, children, cool stuff, diary, duality, dysfunction, enlightenment/spirit, existentialism, film, food/recipes, humor, imperfection, life, love, mental illness, MUSIKKKKK, nature, painting, people, photography, poetry, prose, rabbits, random, sadness, saints, sinners, smokin", stupidity, The Good Life

SYLVIA PLATH – Mad Girl’s Love Song. (Set to her poem ARIEL.)

janice j. cunningham

Ariel

Stasis in darkness.
Then the substanceless blue
Pour of tor and distances.

God’s lioness,
How one we grow,
Pivot of heels and knees!–The furrow

Splits and passes, sister to
The brown arc
Of the neck I cannot catch,

Nigger-eye
Berries cast dark
Hooks—-

Black sweet blood mouthfuls,
Shadows.
Something else

Hauls me through air—-
Thighs, hair;
Flakes from my heels.

White
Godiva, I unpeel—-
Dead hands, dead stringencies.

And now I
Foam to wheat, a glitter of seas.
The child’s cry

Melts in the wall.
And I
Am the arrow,

The dew that flies,
Suicidal, at one with the drive
Into the red

Eye, the cauldron of morning.


View original post

Leave a comment

Filed under cool stuff, diary, duality, dysfunction, enlightenment/spirit, existentialism, imperfection, life, love, mental illness, MUSIKKKKK, people, poetry, sadness, saints, sinners, and angels, Uncategorized

SYLVIA PLATH – Mad Girl’s Love Song. (Set to her poem ARIEL.)

Ariel

Stasis in darkness.
Then the substanceless blue
Pour of tor and distances.

God’s lioness,
How one we grow,
Pivot of heels and knees!–The furrow

Splits and passes, sister to
The brown arc
Of the neck I cannot catch,

Nigger-eye
Berries cast dark
Hooks—-

Black sweet blood mouthfuls,
Shadows.
Something else

Hauls me through air—-
Thighs, hair;
Flakes from my heels.

White
Godiva, I unpeel—-
Dead hands, dead stringencies.

And now I
Foam to wheat, a glitter of seas.
The child’s cry

Melts in the wall.
And I
Am the arrow,

The dew that flies,
Suicidal, at one with the drive
Into the red

Eye, the cauldron of morning.

Mad Girl who loves anyway and writes poems. (Me, hehe. Nov 2011)


4 Comments

Filed under art, books, cool stuff, imperfection, life, love, people, poetry, sadness, Uncategorized

Out of the Ether, Into My Bones

everything is arbitrary now,

you see.

i am grateful for

the small accidents:

a broken china cup.

spilled white sugar.

a burned fingertip, a razor

nick, a

blown-out bulb.

these things force me

out of the ether and into

my bones

make me BE, Jesus

please

just where i am

planted in the earth.      it hurts

it hurts.     the salt of the

earth, it hurts.

this salt of the earth

is dangerous

to tender slugs born sans armor

but

i am still

here.

jjc 1.20.11


3 Comments

Filed under art, diary, poetry

Perfect.

I dreamed last night

that you and I

were guests

at a fancy hotel,  where

a cup of cafe au lait

cost nine dollars and

the 800-thread count sheets,

like fallen moths’ wings.

Perfect.

How impressed each morning

was I,

with the thoughtful and charming way you had

arranged room service

with the finest china and Reed and Barton silver

and coffee exactly the way

I like it.

Perfect.     Does this mean

you love me?

Funny, even in my dreams

I was let down,

heartbroken, even —

yet, nevertheless, not surprised

when the final bill

arrived in a leather case

on a silver tray  and

you

had charged it all

on

my credit card.

Perfect.

*note: PTG: FELICITY, 1997. oil on board, 20×20.


Leave a comment

Filed under diary, imperfection, life, love, poetry, sadness, stupidity

Blah blah blahhhhgggging.

Yeah.    Hi.  Well. Um, er…this project was supposed to be a random and – operative word INTEGRATED amalgam of paintings , prose, journalism, drawings/multimedia art , poetry, and photography – all by me, of course.  Me, me, me. I am so sick of me. But these things – these ramblings of the soul – are piling up in my house and in my mind and in my heart and I must release them.

One tries to blog without an audience in mind. Yes, I do that. Yes, I CAN do that. But somehow, every time I push the PUBLISH button i feel like an insta-ass.  My solution?  Get over it!  

So, while I have started this endeavor in a rather odd way, I will attempt to continue it without being so art-centric. But as I asked myself earlier, as a single mother of a laptop-obsessed two-year-old, how can I write anything worthwhile while I am attempting to scrape multigrain strawberry cereal bars out of the carpet to the backdrop of a waaaaaaaaay too loud Dora the Explorer DVD?  Dammit, I am going to try! SO, here goes….something.


Janice J. Cunningham  1.15.11

3 Comments

Filed under art, books, children, cool stuff, diary, food/recipes, humor, imperfection, life, love, nature, painting, people, photography, poetry, prose, rabbits, random, sadness, stupidity