The fifth in this series is a head trip

away from the strong singular image

to a cacophony of outrageous voices

singing together…

…the way stems bend in different directions

yet make one tree.

I gathered the ones that fell

when their leaves were gone…

…and painted them…


We have to talk about pink.

Many artists avoid it. Some say pink isn’t really a color, the product of a one-night stand between red and white. Some pinks insist they are tones of red. And some go around passing for white. If most pinks went to one of those ancestry sites they’d discover they’re actually 20% blue or yellow.

Pinks have baggage. Pink was girlie in a Barbie-doll way (and underwear) until the 80s when it hung out with black and made believe it was goth. Now it’s a knitted hat with ears. This is a self-esteem issue. Blues come in many shades and each one knows it’s beautiful.

But pinks have baggage, and an artist must be aware of the repercussions.

I’m not afraid of pink.

I used it in “A Fragile Space,”

an abstract painting, 5 years ago.

To find the right pink for this chorus

I mixed Medium Magenta, Light Magenta,

a dollop of expensive Quinacridone Violet,

and spiked it with cheap Fluorescent Pink.

The ladies got faces out of clay…

…that I painted.

We each have personal reasons for speaking

so they will wear their own newspaper headlines.

I gave them fists.

I drew clenched hands before

in “Letting Go” in 2016.

But now, being gorgeous,

these ladies wear feathers

plucked from this boa.

Their fragility is an illusion, though.

A fist emerges and hands of a clock

because “Time’s Up.”

The 15 singers divide into 3 melodies:

“Vote,” “Time’s Up” and “Me Too,”

and they’re ready to sing.

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