Vietnam Jungle I – XI

DSC_4904I was thinking of watery Impressionism today as I painted, which you can probably see … and it was very therapeutic and expressive …

I mixed Hansa Yellow Medium with Terra Verte Hue to make a bright new lime. Then I had mixed it right next to the dark Sap Green, with which I’ve been painting the depth of the watery detail for some days (?) now. That was the fun part, just playing with that mix of the dark and light, with the glaze. Ahh. I recommend it.

Now, to reach any kind of surface, I used my peripheral vision. I also added some triangles in there to make some, depth. ? Not sure what I’m doing there, but I went there.

Not done yet with the whole piece, upper or lower, but almost.

Ready to Live IX made it safely home today, and priceless and spotlessly so. Thank you to John Sprite, the owner of the bitter end coffeehouse in Grand Rapids, MI for making all of that so, and sponsoring her for her visit there for Artprize 2013. She is glowing, and ready for Takoma Park!


Rain today and for most of the week, and the chill I was looking forward to. Heh. Ha, not quite what I was thinking. I looked at the forecast last night and was like, Oh.

However, today I wore black cords and black henley with my comfy black Danskos which are so trusty for my back this time of year, and the REI orange and gray jacket. Tomorrow I plan to wear my white polyester puffer with a skirt perhaps to avoid the darkness altogether.

So I started working on the novel The Front Porch again today, by skipping the absolutely difficult part I was in and going forward into the fun literature section. Hooray for that, eh?

Which means, Alberto Blanco, Mexican poet.

and the first of two poems I will reproduce in the novel, if possible

My Tribe (Alberto Blanco, 1951 – )

Mi Tribu

The earth is the same, the heavens are different, From lake to lake, from one forest to another: which is my tribe? — I ask — where is my place?

La tierra es la misma, el cielo es otra. De lago en lago, de bosque en bosque: ?Cual es mi tribu? –- me pregunto –- “Cual es mi lugar?

Perhaps I belong to the tribe of those with no tribe; or to the tribe of black sheep; or to a tribe whose ancestors come from the future of a tribe yet to come.

Tal vez pertenezco a la tribu de los que no tienen tribu; o a la tribu de las ovejas negras; o a una tribu cuyos ancestors vienen del futuro: una tribu que esta por llegar.

But if I am to belong to a tribe — I tell myself –-

Pero si  he de pertenecer a alguna tribu –- me digo —

let it be a large tribe, let it be a strong tribe, a tribe where nothing and no one is left outside, where everyone, and everything, and always have a holy place.

Que sea una tribu grande, que sea una tribu fuerte, una tribu donde nadie ni nadie quede fuera de la tribu, donde todos, todo y siempre tengan su santo lugar.

I don’t mean a human tribe. I don’t mean a planetary tribe. I don’t even mean a universal tribe. I mean a a tribe about which one cannot speak.

No hablo de una tribu humana. No hablo de una tribu planetaria. No siquiera de una tribu universal. Hablo de una tribu de la que no se puede hablar.

I mean a tribe that forever lived but whose existence is yet to be proved.

A tribe that has never lived but whose existence might now be proved.

Una tribu que ha existida siempre pero cuya existencia esta todavia pro ser comprobada. Una tribu que no ha existido nunca pero cuya existencia podemos ahora mismo comprobar.

It’s kind of synchronous, that yesterday my friend, just having travelled to Guatemala, said that the Mayan tribes each had different embroidery and oral languages to distinguish them, still, after all this time. Another poem entitled Maps, tomorrow.

To belong.

Time to walk Chipper and make the dinner.


About amyjacksoncc

I am a professional artist, writer and musician creating from my home studio. To view my artwork, visit
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