Chlobird poetry and Lazaro Amaral Art begin working on their next project at the Art Center South Florida
Posted: March 28, 2012 Filed under: Creative Writing | Tags: art center south florida, Lazaro Amaral Art, making a stencil, preparing for next art instelation, south florida arts center Leave a comment »Step one: Roll out paper to create stencil.
Step 2: I print out the words I want to use on the stencil and place it inside a light projector…
Step 3: Turn the lights out, the projector on, pick up a pencil and trace the magnified words onto the paper. Once this is done, we lay the paper out onto the table and use an exacto knife to cut out the words…
Step 4: Continue until your fingers go numb…
ChloBirdPoetry Meets Lazaro Amaral Art to Present, ‘The Gift of the Moment’
Posted: March 6, 2012 Filed under: Creative Writing | Tags: art and poetry, Lazaro Amaral Art, The Gift of the Moment Leave a comment »A poet and a painter meet to create a body of work through different mediums via a shared view or concept. Artwork is bound to color, words to paper. Lets dive into both… a brief history 1st…
When ChloBirdPoetry walked into Lazaro Amaral’s print room at the South Florida Arts Center, it was as though the horizon spelled the limitless and she wanted to explore it. Chloe was eager to learn, to print her words, Lazaro was eager to teach his skills and did so with passion. Often Chloe in her willingness to learn would make mistakes in haste, turning Lazaro’s face red in frustration before breaking to a smile. Chloe knew this was a beginning, and she told Lazaro, ‘you’re going to know me for a long time’ he rolled his eyes to the heavens.
Three years later, Chloe helps Lazaro in production for 2 shows, ‘Mafia Art’ and ‘Art Bitch’ in Miami’s Design District.For photos and more on the creative development click here. Chloe is Lazaro’s production assistant, writer and editor. In turn, Lazaro teaches Chloe the art of Printmaking and Silkscreen. The duo will be collaborating for a new exhibit called ‘The Gift of the Moment.’
Stay tuned to see how Lazaro and Chloe develop their concept “The Gift of the Moment.
Notebook Sketches
Posted: September 23, 2011 Filed under: Creative Writing | Tags: creative non fiction, creative writing, diary, prose, Random Thoughts, thoughts Leave a comment »Saturday 20th August 2011
Awake to humid grey brightness reaching it’s way through the blinds. Today is going to be a beach day, a doing day, a day to replenish. Smoke and pancakes, reading newspapers on the balcony. A verdant neon anole creeps up the tree, last night’s rain drips on the banana leaves like a tiny drum. Sit in the heavy stillness of the day, observe it’s potential. Meditate. Water the human of my humanity, to be by the sea.
slowly, slowly catch a monkey…
“Shopping for Happiness” headlined an article, “2600″ for a handbag, “it makes me feel valued to wear something of value”. Find time to sing and dance, read the remedy, learn a new language, find other ways to value yourself.
Oscar Wilde quote, “a cynic is a man who knows the price of everything but the value of nothing.”
I once said, money is worthless so value everything.
Paralysis by analysis fear paralyzes reason, buy out of it, get high, go the beach. Chop off the top of a pineapple and plant it, watch it grow roots. Find the mirrors and miracles of life in fruit, sprouting from black void. Seed of truth.
I enjoyed drinking wine today.
A Writer looks for Words to Paint
Posted: September 23, 2011 Filed under: Creative Writing | Tags: creative writing, inspiration, Note Book Diary Scetches, Random Thoughts, short story, writing Leave a comment »A writer without words is a subdued surfer sat next to a trickling stream.
So I sought to become an artist, canvas, and page stare back vacant and languid.
meditate, wait for bla bla bla divinity…
A desert Prince walks down the street
He has a machete strapped to his belt and sweet Caroline in his head
The end of the world is about to happen and he doesn’t think anyone else has noticed that today is the end of days.
With consideration he has held Mary Jane
They swung through the streets skirting abyss, voids in the lightning city forming polka dots of spar city open mouths of creation down on the corner and everywhere are happy feet.
They run into rainbow explosions
I think they made it to the tideland beyond the memory of sea
Although no one saw them
But me
Facebook In The Family
Posted: September 15, 2011 Filed under: Creative Writing | Tags: facebook, family Leave a comment »The virtual web has bound it’s way around the dynamics of my tender relationship with my step mother and half sister.
Virtual webs become reality.
My half sister blocked me on facebook (probably because I told her mother to go fuck herself, in my opinion long over due. ) I posted on my brother’s wall: why did Kelsey block me on facebook? It hurts, I feel like I’v lost my family. Then I blocked my step mother. We seem to be experiencing some blockages! Christmas is round the corner, im heading to Key West or back to England!
Closing Quotes:
you can pick your nose but you can’t pick your family
if it’s not one thing it’s your mother
post it on a blog.
5am 19th August 2011
Posted: August 19, 2011 Filed under: Creative Writing | Tags: creative non fiction, Life, prose, random Leave a comment »Write something? who’s going to read it? Shall I post it on a blog? a wandering narrative with a want to be heard. Who doesn’t want to be heard? heard in a herd. blab. Words matter but matter most to form a matter of thought or just to hint to Self that something matters enough to get up at 6am and write in the darkness to turn a light on within while smoking dope to dim the edge.
Action followed by reason. logic to push action. vision without action is a dream. Dream through days. Action without vision is a nightmare. I awoke with a scar on my wrist but escaped the clutch of man who fought to keep me. I followed through the viscous dawn against the backdrop of mountains to find a way back to Miami and make a new home in a city once lived. Back to the water’s edge.
Time with soul makes sole steady to keep self through combat clouds on pale blue sky waters grey kite string heart, i fear kites a heartfelt threat of decapitation with a dip and a gust as the hours swell and the horizon brightens stuck in lineage.
Progress in circles. variate the dance to improve each step so i can look up and ahead. I can see the progression as the seasons pass. survive in seasons on quest to revive passion for art, literature, to hold on to love. rekindle faith in a pursuit of happiness lost in heaven searching for God.
Write a story about the organization of words. Write a story.
A Pigeon’s Tale
Posted: March 8, 2011 Filed under: Creative Writing | Tags: city birds, city life, creative writing, pigeons Leave a comment »A pigeon sat proud on the head of a statue as though he had been found or claimed his place to the world. Pigeon lifts tail feather, shits and flies away.
This video reminded me of the memory, the mundane note that given a second thought could be revolutionary.
Pigeon Musings….
I would watch the pigeons as I made my journey through the city, in the passenger seat of my mother’s car driving home from school on a dull Monday. Typical English weather, dimmed light at 4pm with buildings, roads and sky shading various grey brightened only by artificial street lights like stark amber moons in the winter fog.
I would walk up close behind one causing it to speed up, for its head to jerk rapidly as though to frantically agree with each step. Some would have club feet and limp, others fluffed up would sit and nest in the top corners of the shop front windows. Flying rats some say, lost birds I would think. No grace to them other than a gentle cooing, not much behind their red bead eyes and tarmac neck with turquoise purple color lost to dirty ash gray and gutter leaves. Pigeon clap wing clouds up from the heart of the City.
From Rome, to Africa, Desert to tropics (maybe not in the poles) but just about everywhere else, the Pigeon prevails.
Soul Journey…Poetry Sketch
Posted: January 25, 2011 Filed under: Creative Writing | Tags: creative writing, soul journey Leave a comment »Lightening forks pierce the expanse
rush through all channels until it pinnacles.
That’s how it is trying to record all the feelings that mix with memory that find me looking to my feet that symbolize the thread. Whatever it is that makes us the way we are, as water spirals down the drain, or the
toilet whirlpools, snail shells
Golden Ratio, Russian dolls, mirrors and parallels -
Nothing but oxymoron/paradoxes
I can’t even write it straight.
a stranger on the payroll of life an anchor closed hope mouth wide sympathetic eyes feels like one long analysis apart from when drunk listen to shake big fat bootie to big fat bass music a song in the bar tonight that used to play at the bar in Asheville and only my dog and I share the memory
truth is like a compressor an emotion condenser
Going back to the thread at my feet. I need to clean it. pride kills flowers not mistakes. faith in able. I doubt everything but not enough to think impossible.
Mistakes are funny because people are like elephants when it comes to downfalls hell, I think it’s in our nature. Do you ever try to break free from yourself? When I moved to North Carolina on a whim with a man who I hardly knew because I wanted a way out from my self. I wanted to get lost which is
O.K so long
as you go
back to root.
On Writing…
Posted: January 18, 2011 Filed under: Creative Writing | Tags: poetry, writing Leave a comment »I always want to dive into the words. Use them to mold or sculpt a piece as opposed to a story.
I get stuck in images and
find
it
between rock and
hard place,
normality is relative
i suppose i t d ee p end s
on the amount of pressure applied
fireworks of head up
in the velvet night to
match the stars
3 of 3 Hollow Apricot
Posted: December 17, 2010 Filed under: Creative Writing | Tags: art, fruit, visual poetry Leave a comment »for reasons unknown I began to think about the symbolism of fruit. ..
