Barbara McNeill
"For Claudia Rankine"
(acrylic and charcoal)
Shelia Gamble
Calendars
(mixed media)
JT Morrow
"I Am a Madman"
(acrylic on canvas)
James Feige
"Implied Landscape Southwest"
(glass)
Now Showing at the WEST WING GALLERY

BLACK & WHITE & COLOR—ART & POETRY

Below are more samples of the art and poetry from our current show.
For a description of the show click on the Dirty Palette button, above.

WHAT DOES MATER

Night
Moon
River bank
Oak tree
Tight hands
Warm tongue the neck
Fingers clinched around bare hips
Love scream with wishful force obsessed
To the coming moment
When crazy filling is
Drinking the soul to
The point of no return

—Slavko Polovina

I am a madman
—you must listen to me!
I am an angel
plagued by gravity.
My horns, they hold up
this broken halo.
My wings, they fold up
this tattered soul.

An angel with fangs
outside paradise
only handed me
a pair of dice.
And from her smile
I'd say she gloated
over the fact
that they were loaded.

To download a printable copy of "The Dirty Palette" CLICK HERE.
To view artwork from our previous exhibits, please CLICK HERE.
Crash!
Splash!
The waves roll to the shore.

Birds fly overhead,
skim the water's edge
and probe the sand for
unsuspecting prey.

Crabs scamper, mussels
close their doors, seastars
hold on tighter and
seaweed is cast ashore.

Gravel signatures are left
by the outgoing tide.

—Sharron Walker

FOR CLAUDIA RANKINE

Left the
body open
for the
moon
to break
into

—Barbara McNeill

Slavko Polovina
"Dancer"
(colored pencil)
Aisyah Ang
"Quotation IV, V, VI"
(detail of triptych)
(acrylic and ink on wood panel)
Watercolors
Life colors
watercolors swirling
with lifecolors
a Monet garden
dancing girls & acrobats
overflow
from birth to childhood
magical
as a glittering
fairy godmother
rushing in
wand waving
Back to
Page 1
Sharron Walker
The Shore (detail)
(photography)
touching you
born in a brightly colored
bottle of hopes & dreams
so determined
to survive
to be
to smile into
your sister's eyes
and paint your own
dancing girls
and acrobats

I would come
to visit
and she would be waiting
by the glass door
in her wheelchair
eyes searching
for my red car
and when we came into view
her eyes danced
and love poured out
all over us.

The sparkle
in her eyes
told us stories
of old streets
and old friends
who came back to life
that sparkle made our lives shine.

She was the music
that played away
all doubts and fears
a symphony of special moments—
midnights and milky coffee
picnics of strawberries and salmon
impressed only by the truth
her laughter and strength
a silent symphony
plays on.

—Shelia Gamble

Jean Lannen
"Red Dress, Funny Funny"
(acrylic on vintage illustration)
You call me mad
because I chose
to watch demons
gather like crows.
Because I asked
which feathers flew far
and which fell out
to leave a scar.
I'm a madman
—you must listen to me!
I am an angel
plagued by gravity.
The storm grows dark
as we kneel to pray
and the shadows move
but the darkness stays.

—JT Morrow