This series came out of a deep emotion that felt like wailing. Automatic writing emerged after I put down the first layer of paint on eight sheets of paper. Pieces of this composition are included on each of the separate paintings but one, called “No Words.” I started the series close to the time that the United States declared war on Iraq. The following poem is a compilation of the output from the automatic writing that emerged that day. My mom, other me How do I be truly free? Live for me, live for you, For them, live for us Live for work, for community. Hmmm... Who are we really? What is this armor we put on In the name of freedom? Whom? Why? “Live well, with passion” Instead of compassion Into blood flow, mastication Passion, killing, blood moon, all is one. What is real freedom? What are we doing with our moments? What are we doing with our earth? When will we wake up from our delusions? From our preoccupation with acquisition? Why do we continue to skirt involvement, Response ability, like a coyote? Oh my Godness, what can I do? We must rise up from the ashes like a phoenix. Death into blackness to birth Cycles of darkness, cycles of light. Is this a new culture? Who decides? New order, new world ONE is eternal.		Cracked Armor Question of Choice No Words One Red Dawn Our Earth Phoenix Communion Question of Freedom Skirting Coyote Artist Statement