August 27 – September 24
Virginia Poet Laureate, Carolyn Kreiter-Foronda will be present to read
her poetry and as juror for the exhibit.
Show includes art in any medium that relates to the poetry
of Carolyn Kreiter-Foronda,
recent Poet Laureate of Virginia. Her books will be available in the
gallery. The reception, on Sunday, September 6th from 5:30
- 7:30 p.m., will feature readings by the poet and cash awards.
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Here are some quotes suggested by
Ms. Kreiter-Foronda:
From: "Crows over the Fields of Auvers"
"All morning the sky deepens,
resuming the unrest below."
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From: "Contrary Visions in the Gallery,
White on White"
"...two mystics vow this is not the coming of
light
or white blossoms at the hands of God,
but a ceremonial stone that brings calm
to any man, if only he will embrace it."
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From: "Painting Poppies near Arles"
"It is never easy to paint poppies that bloom crimson
near Arles. You must wait for the moment their color settles in the
viridine fields."
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From: "Other Possibilities"
"...You can tell by the way his eyes shine that he
is dreaming, small white birds dancing over him, covering
his shoulders with delicate feathers."
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From: "Lately I Have Been Too Wrapped Up"
"...let the thoughts go until they settle on something
startling: this world, for example, how it might be otherwise
if there were no colors . . ."
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From: "In the Plaza of America, Seville"
"The moon turns, air-drunk toward pergolas heady
in the spring heat."
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From: "Spell of Moon and Maple"
"How is it that the tree, worn and alone, reaches into
the sky and scatters October's rubies over the graying earth?"
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From: "A Deaf Woman Longs to be among the Waters"
"...be that heron strumming the air, a choir embroidered
in her singing."
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From: "Baiting My Hook, I Try Again"
"...I reel in a universe where colors prevail, where
clouds redden with lightning, a tiny ship fighting the sea, its bold
masts crimson."
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From: "Baiting My Hook, I Try Again"
"In my mind, I pull a string and color the earth for
miles
with mulberry light."
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From: "Art is a Flower that Opens Freely"
"Go. Look at the sea where voices of the infinite
thrive like anemones."
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From: "Beneath Lamplight"
"...Today I labor in the field, my reward: plump
potatoes resplendent in the soil's dark shine."
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From: "You Don't Need Binoculars to Be a Bird
Watcher"
"...Start running to the lake's edge for a closer view.
Look into the liquid heart where the blue green pulsates,
red beaks sucking, then spewing out water. Follow the pelicans'
snow-white ascent into the flamingos' flight."
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From: "The Old Woman and Colors"
"Look. Someone is coloring the air:
an old woman, the wrinkles
in her face, a verdant field."
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From: "Transparent Butterfly in Jardin de las
Mariposas"
"Wherever you land, earth turns green, wing-color a
gift Quetzal sheds over you, sheen of his feathers
falling as he lifts through a hurrah of leaves."
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From: "The Deserted Beach"
"I marvel at the fullness of a beach, deserted,
disguised as a path that pushes eastward, the sandy shore cobbled
like plumage of an elusive caracara."
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From: "Nest Building"
"The osprey soars through a cerulean sky, scumbled
with oyster pinks and whites. Industrious, he scavenges insect carcasses,
sticks, seaweed, swells of twine, drops them between the branches
of a dead pine. ...Lit up like spooned honey, he zeros in to land."
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From: "Dragon Run"
"Knee-deep in the Dragon, I lean in to feel the wilderness.
The brisk call of dawn splashes against ash and gum. Sassy this liquid
sun pursuing a cypress, its roots lifted from the swamp like stubby
knees."
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From: "On the Studio-Boat"
"Skysails billowing, the day soaring.
A violin, the sun arrives, trilling.
From the studio-boat I can see better: morning rises
out of the river's mouth, wine-gold opening."
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From: "These Flecks of Summer"
"Pink parasols everywhere:
mountain laurel releases
confetti at the feet
of two bickering cardinals
in a seed flight."
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From: "Red Building in Forest"
"Down a dirt road in a tangle of pines, the windowless
building rises, awash in scarlet."
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From: "Blood Moon"
"To see the full moon turn copper, drive to the end
of a country road to a broad-mouthed bay where darkness scatters stars
like lit-tin across fields."
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From: "By the Bay"
"...To be here beyond a peninsula's tip and a temple
of wind, where an inlet's waters wash over my feet, the Chesapeake
misting over with the aura of coastlands."
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From: "Testimonial"
"Vigorous: this clearing, its astral growth,
a patch of flowers drowning out the unruly world."
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For more information about Kreiter-Foronda
click here. |
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