Artist Marc G. Doutherd and I met on the About.me, a networking site for creatives. After we exchanged greetings , I sent Marc a request to collaborate, which is built into the About.me system, and here we are.
Isn’t the Internet great?
I hope you enjoy this sampling of Marc G. Doutherd’s extensive collection of art work. Born in California and currently residing in Arizona, Marc works in a number of mediums and styles.
He creates his art through what he calls “Shamanic Interpretation”. Check out his recently launched website to see more new work and a discussion of his creative process .
People are always looking for what they have never seen before. Most people can only see through their physical eyes but lack the ability to see through their inner eye. The vision that is not dependent upon physical sight stays in ones memory and opens the doors to see things with something else!
—Marc G. Doutherd
From The Artist
Marc G. Doutherd Artist Bio: Born in California, USA on Feb. 9th, 1961. The word that describes Marc G. Doutherd is ‘resilient’ ! Marc, throughout his life, has always been able to render images, sculpt any substance,write music, and play most musical instruments.
According to Marc,”Love is the overriding force behind my creative works, and it is that force and power that drives me to create”.
The philosophy behind Marc and his art is “Freedom”. The freedom to expand artistically…freedom to experiment with new forms of art and new methods. He can render images in styles ranging from figurative photo realism or surrealism to abstract.
Marc G. Doutherd demonstrates unlimited ability in terms of his creative energy and artistic innovation. His artistic disciplines include lithography,illustration,painting,graphic design,leather work, jewelry making, tanning, sculpture, glass blowing, musical instrument making, and music writing and composition.
What you see when you view Marc’s art is a vision of the spiritual essence of his various subject matters as seen through his eyes.
By way of Shamanic interpretation, with unbelievably bright hues that glow with a unique vibrancy, Marc captures what others try to see and understand.
We all want someplace we can go where humanity and sensitivity wins over bigotry and guilt.
Smallish green striped awning
Long narrow room
Dark Wood paneling
Ceramic tiled floors
Elaborate Large Candelabra
Sconces with candles
Small round tables
Off with the Masks
She got fired from her church organist job for playing here in the early 70’s.
She’s on tonight. Her jazz is filling the air like sparklers circling voice and keys.
Ah it’s a special night and she is generous to share her stage. Everyone is here.
Tom D is soon off to Nashville and she hammers the keys while he sings his I don’t want to go but risking all to expand my soul song.
Melanie follows her light opera university trained voice changes the mood rising up from her small stocky life container.
John, a Karaoke regular, never took his eyes away from his heart while she sang, rises to pour his turn into the drink.
Humble Yolanda enters stage left with Ann. Oh no she won’t. Everyone is on their knees so she gives in in the end with amazing grace.
Check out the calendar and don’t miss the rest.
Age, Gender, Sexual Preference, Race, Culture
Sophisticated, Intellectual, Friendly Clientele
You never know who you may meet.
I’ll be there dancing on the last stump.
Smiles, Kisses, Hugs
The Poet and Artist:
Janette K. Hopper is a retired Professor who was raised in Idaho in an active outdoor family. During college, she served two years as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Maria la Baja, Columbia SA and afterward was a partner in a beef, grain and hay operation in Idaho. Since receiving her MFA from the University of Oregon, she has taught in Denmark, Germany and in the United States at Columbia Basin College WA, Central Michigan University and, as the Art Department Chair, at the University of North Carolina Pembroke. Her work has been shown and collected extensively in museums, public venues, colleges and universities and in private galleries nationally and internationally in Germany, France, The Netherlands, Canada, Bulgaria, Italy and Denmark.
As a recipient of a Fulbright Scholarship she spent a year in Denmark, where she began to have European one-person exhibits starting in Copenhagen with a prestigious grant from Danish Fulbright. Her landscape paintings and prints were included in a Fulbright juried retrospective in Washington, DC and also with New York artists in the Lincoln Center and in many other juried exhibitions internationally. She has exhibited in art centers and galleries in the United States, Germany, France, Bulgaria and Italy and, as a member of Paleur International, in Denmark.
She has works in many permanent collections including: The Gilkey Collection Portland Art Museum, Portland OR, the City of Mannheim Germany, the Museum of Humor and Satire in Gabrovo Bulgaria, Padagogische Hochschule Ludwigsburg, Ludwigsburg Germany, Gonzaga University Spokane WA, The National Park Service, Stehekin WA, many works purchased by the Washington State and Oregon State Arts Commission for permanent display in public venues, Center for the Study of Political Graphics, Los Angeles CA, Bald Head Limited, Bald Head Island NC, UNCP Livermore Library, Pembroke NC, Prints Arts Northwest, Portland OR, SGC International, University of Mississippi, Oxford MS and the Marselisborg Gymnaseum in Aarhus
Janette K Hopper – Artist Statement
My works are inspired by the special places I have experienced while hiking, camping and kayaking. I have explored beaches, mountains, black water swamps, creeks, fields and visited many unique beautiful places. The outdoors long has enchanted me and inspired my art. I have learned how significant fire is to the land, water to the swamps and marshes and the interrelation of all these elements to the animals and plants we call nature. As an artist, Cezanne came close to finding an artistic mode to express his feelings about nature. It is my journey too, as an artist to observe nature and then share with you what I see through the materials and techniques of art. Through my searching gaze, artistic discipline and my sensitivity to the processes and materials of art I hope you will enjoy and feel the influence of nature in my works.
I love our parks and wild lands. I want them sustained not depleted because of exploitation and monetary motives but preserved so that all of us can find a deeper meaning. The wealth of solitude, wildness, and beauty that so enriches our inner lives and brings us peace enables us to join together and build a future.
I am a mother anxiously waiting for her son past curfew. I am his wary lope beneath floodlights.
I am the hoodie draped over the deejay’s freshly shaved head. I am the brassy highlights in the bartender’s curls, I am the obituary of the old love shoved in her back pocket.
I am the neighbor making excuses to talk to you at dusk, lingering at the mailboxes. I am the midnight whistle of the cross town train.
I am the dented trombone played by the scholarship student in New Orleans. I sing the music of the Spheres trailed behind the second line.
I am the love you make with the lights on. I am the dance you chance when you forget your cares.
I am the breath you exhale after paying your rent.
I am the last time you rode the bus, the seat you gave up, the elderly woman, the steel gray of her braids, tenderness in her stare.
I am the Ancestor murmuring in your blood.
I am the curve of the crescent moon Iman and Yasmeen spied last Ramadan. I am the prayer that broke your heart at dawn, just before it was answered.
I am the undrawn gun in the church, the moment before it was too late. I am the mother quieting her child hidden beneath a desk.
I am the unending grief unraveled. I am the unimaginable, audacious forgiveness we somehow can’t forgive.
I am the broken teeth of the veteran sprawled across the median at rush hour. I am the wave of wayward stardust thrown from a mermaid’s tail.
I am the tension released from your bones as day succumbs to twilight. I am the moan that escapes your lips, that spirals into the night.
–Maura Alia Badji
The Artist: Leonardo Benzant, Brooklyn, NY
I create art connected in terms of a single vision emerging in various forms including: sculpture, painting and performance. Growing up in the 80’s, as Hip-Hop was flourishing, I felt an inner void prompted by the lack of an African-perspective in mainstream America. I began to investigate identity and spirituality. Being aware of the divide/conquer strategy of colonization, I initiated in my formative years during Catholic school, an investigation into African retentions, continuities and points of connection among the people of African descent throughout the African Diaspora for the purposes of healing, transformation and empowerment, both individual and communal.
Rose Gallery “The Cosmology of Resistance and Transformation” Leonardo Benzant
Opening Reception: November 6, 2015
The Poet: Maura Alia Badji
Maura Alia Badji’s poems and essays have appeared in Barely South Review, Cobalt, ArtVoice Buffalo, Switched-on Gutenberg, Exhibition, convolvulus, Spillway, teenytiny, Signals, The Buffalo Times, and The Haight Ashbury Literary Journal. Her themes include multiracial identity and families, female ancestors, social justice, female sexuality, and the discovery and creation of mythos. Maura has been a contributing writer for The Buffalo Times, Soul Music of The World, and LivingSocial.com.
She is a member of The Watering Hole collective, an online community for poets of color and is grateful for the excellent online classes, and mutual support of #tribe she has found there.
Impresiones/Impressions, a poema/poem de/by Rafael Ayala Paz
La memoria está en la yema de los dedos
Los colores están en los ojos
La infancia está contenida en la columna vertebral
Los mundos nacen en cascarones rotos
Siempre habrá un signo en todo objeto
Una señal desdibujada en el horizonte
Un presagio de infinito en la noche
Un destello suspendido en la frente
Un viejo olor bajo los guijarros
Un sol rojo detrás de las colinas
Amaneceres en los parpados
Globos flotando en el cielo
Aldeas insospechadas en la planta de los pies
Anémonas gigantes en las nubes
Seres que caminan de cabeza
Soles como pupilas
Buzos ahogados en un vaso de agua
Náufragos de la desesperación
Locomotoras exhalando un enjambre de moscas
Árboles que entienden lo que decimos
Un reloj con brazos y piernas
Una torre sumergida en un charco
Ojos llorando aves
Sueños que conducen sus autos en la noche
Balsas que atraviesan las arterias dejando una estela de estrellas
Canciones buscando la luz
Cielos tensos como codos y brazos
Ciudades edificadas en mi mano izquierda
Soles entre los dedos
Mareas de oídos sordos
Pedazos de playas en la retina
Mapas de lugares remotos como las galaxias
Discusiones sobre asuntos que pronto olvidaremos
Islas que son sonidos nidos
Impresiones de todo lo soñado
Memory is in the fingertips
Colors are in the eyes
Infancy is contained in the backbone
Worlds are born in broken shells
There will always be a sign in every object
made vague in the horizon
An infinite omen in the night
A sparkle suspended on the forehead
An old smell beneath the pebbles
A red sun behind the hills
Sunrises on the eyelids
Balloons floating in the sky
Villages unsuspected in the soles of feet
Giant anemones in the clouds
Beings that walk on their heads
Suns like pupils
Divers drowned in a glass of water
Shipwrecks of desperation
Locomotives exhaling a swarm of flies
Trees that understand what we say
A clock with arms and legs
A tower submerged in a puddle
Eyes crying birds
Dreams that drive their cars in the night
Rafts that navigate the arteries leaving a trail of stars
Songs searching for the light
Skies tense like elbows and arms
Cities built in my left hand
Suns between fingers
Tides of deaf ears
Pieces of beaches in the retina
Maps of remote places like galaxies
Discussions over matters that we will soon forget
Islands that are nests of sounds
Impressions of everything dreamed
— Rafael Ayala Páez, Zaraza, Guárico, Venezuela
Through the vague, yet intricately woven mysteries of the Internet, I virtually met Rafael Ayala Paez in September of 2012 when he wrote to me via Facebook. He found me through my author listing on the Poets & Writers website, read some of my work, as well as reviews I had written, and invited me to write a brief preface for his forthcoming collection, “La levedad de la materia/ The lightness of matter”.
He also asked if he could translate and publish a few of my poems in Venezuela through the online journal “Negro Sobre Blanco”. I was a little taken aback, because while I’ve had my work published over the years I’m not exactly well-known in the US, let alone Latin America. Yet, he sincerely enjoyed my poems and made it clear that the offer was not one of quid pro quo for writing the preface.
After immersing myself in the deceptively unadorned language of his manuscript I agreed to both requests. His book was published shortly afterwards; two of my poems appeared in the Oct/Nov 2012 edition of “Negro Sobre Blanco” in as translated by Rafael and Brooklyn-based poet/writer/activist Emanuel Xavier.(http://issuu.com/negrosobreblanco/docs/periodico_oct_nov on page 8)
In my preface to “La levedad de la materia/ The lightness of matter”, I wrote:
“Rafael Ayala Paez has the enviable ability to write about the heaviest and deepest of matters —love, sex, death, longing —with the lightest of touches. His is a voice that informs without hectoring, seduces without cloying, convinces without shouting. In La levedad de la materia/ The lightness of matter, his images alight on the page; we can’t help but turn to see where they will lead us next. “
Rafael Ayala Paez’s work is a natural choice for me to include in my week of Virtual Dream Residency here at Ione’s Festival of Dreams; his poetry often seems imbued with the imagery of dreams. Unexpected metaphors and discursive word play accrete only to give way to a suddenly crystallized image imbued with pure though unsentimental emotion.
The Venezuelan poet Gregory Zambrano says of “Impressions”:
“In the poem there are worlds in movements that go from sleep to wakefulness and back, appealing to the confusion of the senses, finding sound and word play, revealing from apparent diversion, a great unease.”
With Rafael’s permission, I’m happy to direct you to a link where you may download a free e-book edition of his 2012 collection; I hope you will read, enjoy, and perhaps reach out to the poet who continues to live fully as a poet and writer despite a less than hospitable national climate of political upheaval, violence (25,000 murders in 2014 alone) and economic pressures.
Once you reach the site, click on the book cover for “The lightness of matter” for the free download.
The poet: Rafael Ayala Páez was born in Zaraza, Guárico, Venezuela in 1988. He studied at the Universidad Nacional Experimental Simón Rodríguez (UNESR), and was a founding member of the Municipal Writers Network of Zaraza.
His collections include Bocados de silencio and The lightness of matter (both 2012), and his work was featured in The Blue Hour Anthology – A collection of poetry, prose and art (2013).
His poems have been translated into English, German, French, and Hebrew.
The translator: Roger Hickin (b. 1951) is a New Zealand poet, visual artist, book designer, and publisher.
Roger is the director of Cold Hub Press which publishes poetry in several languages, including bilingual chapbooks of poems by two Chilean poets: Juan Cameron (with translations by the celebrated US translator Cola Franzen) and Sergio Badilla Castillo (with translations by Roger Hickin and the author).
Painting: The Reality of Dreams by Carlos A. Soli, Venezuela, 2012
Alyn Wambeke is that rare bird–a true Renaissance man with just the right balance of confidence and humility. I asked him to contribute art for Ione’s Dream Festival and he sent me “Wordwood Dream” today.
Alyn Wambeke is a writer, artist, worrier, hoper, gardener, civil-rights agitator, and advertising veteran in Atlanta who’s choosing to look on the last few years of unemployment as early retirement. He’s very fond of Oxford Commas and arugula
Her dreams are full
Of brushes, colors,
A woman painting.
I really do love painting.
Sooner or later
We have to take responsibility
For who we were born to be.
–Jill Mellick , “Coming Home to Myself: Reflections for Nurturing a Woman’s Body & Soul” ,
Marion Woodman & Jill Mellick (Conari Press, 1998); Chapter 18, pg 171.
Art: Living Her Dream, MAB,2015 (watercolors, ink, pencil, cardboard, collage)
I’ve kicked off my Dream Residency for Ione’s 21st Annual Dream Festival with a passage from “Coming Home to Myself: Reflections on Nurturing a Woman’s Body & Soul” by Marion Woodman and Jill Mellick (Conari Press, 1998) that reflects on the wisdom we can receive from our dreams. I recommend this book to anyone interested in self-nurturing and reflection, especially women.
Accompanying the passage is a piece of artwork I created from an image I received in a dream. I believe we can all receive wisdom and insight from our dreams if we pay attention.