Bell Blue: Dial-A-Poem ~ A Call for Work

Dear Energetic Readers and Writers,

elizabeth-hellstern-and-bell
Elizabeth Hellstern, creatrix of the Telepoem Booth, and her beloved Bell.

This year I was lucky to be part of an amazing project that started right here in Flagstaff, Arizona. I recorded five poems for Elizabeth Hellstern’s project, The Telepoem Booth, after she put out a call to writers last winter. By spring, the booth was up and running (and one of my poems ended up on NPR!), with people lining up to listen to poetry on a rotary phone. The project is a great success – and the booth will begin traveling to different cities and towns throughout the country. Maybe the booth will come to your town! 

I’m so excited that the Telepoem Booth is seeking to add more work to its catalogue. Be a part of this literary/tactile art project and submit your work today!!

Reposted from Submittable:

The Telepoem Booth, a 1970s phone booth that one can dial-a-poem on the rotary phone, is now accepting submissions for poems and micro-essays to include in the Telepoem Directory. Each piece submitted must be an original piece in MP3 Format and under three minutes. Submissions will be chosen based on their “poetic” merit as well as the quality of the reader’s interpretation, (i.e. “does it translate well as an audio piece for the Telepoem Booth?”) The accepted pieces will be available to dial and listen to in the Flagstaff Telepoem Booth, as well as other Telepoem Booths nationally, including in State College, PA and beyond.

telepoem-booth-at-macys-by-holly-troyThe Telepoem Booth is dedicated to providing representation of voices and perspectives from all humans from all walks and paths. Submitters are encouraged to use sound effects and audio enhancements in their submissions. For an example of a finely produced audio poem located in the Telepoem Booth, please listen to Chris Green’s reading of “Inventing the Dolphin” (featured on Rattle Magazine’s poem of the day), produced by Mark Neumann..

Please submit MP3 audio files only. Deadline to submit is Nov. 30, 2016. Notification of jurors’ decisions will be given by 2017.

There are currently 240 poems in the Flagstaff Telepoem Booth, located at 120 N. Leroux St. Well-known published poets, burgeoning authors, and schoolchildren are included in the Telepoem listings. An average of over 120 poems are dialed every day. More information about the project is available on Facebook or www.TelepoemBooth.com.

**Reposted from Writing the Energetic Body**

 

What Moves You?

This moved me this morning. I miss David Bowie.

 

sunset from the studio © 5:13:15 Holly Troy

Daughter Muse and Time Slipping

I love Richard Butler even more after seeing him perform last night. He looked so happy and sounded better than ever – and he had so much vigor!

In the video below he talks about his process of painting and the process of touring his music . He’s a delight!

Thanks for your creative soul, Mr. Butler!

* * * *

I know the feeling of not having the chance to paint because of other creative projects. I’ve been going through stacks of journals and finding quick drawings that I saved for a later time. The time is now. Below is one of my “for another time” drawings.

IMG_6986

 

 

My First-Time Show in Flagstaff at the May Artwalk

It’s happening – my work will be on exhibit as part of a group show called Mama Terra with the Matter(s) Collective on May 6 at b.e Yoga in downtown Flagstaff.

How the Matter(s) Collective came about

mullien © 2016 Holly TroyArtBox participants were split into two groups and tasked to create pop-up gallery events to take place in May. It quickly became clear that while our art differs in media and style, all the members of my ensemble have a passion for nature. It also happens that our show falls the weekend of Mother’s Day – so – the Mama Terra (Mother Earth) exhibit and the Matter(s) Collective (matter is Latin for mother, it’s a play on the planet as our life source, matter is earthly, and finally – matters are issues, particularly those dealing with the environment) were born.

Details on the Show

On Friday, May 6, the Matter(s) Collective, a group of nine artists will be presenting a multimedia art exhibit, Mama Terra, in celebration of Mother Earth. The exhibit will be held during the First Friday Artwalk at b.e. Yoga Center, 9 N. Leroux St. from 5:30 pm to 8:00 pmMama Terra will also commemorate b.e. Yoga Center’s grand opening—enjoy live music, refreshments, and creative play with artist-designed postcards to color and keep or send for Mother’s Day.

Spring is the time to honor Mother – and Mother Earth. The Matter(s) Collective brings together artists from Flagstaff, Winslow, and the Hopilands as they champion Mama Terra! The exhibit will feature book art, botanical illustration, photography, paintings, fiber art, and sculpted metal works that highlight the beauty, inspiration, and solace that we find in the natural world. As participants of the Flagstaff Art’s Council 2016 ArtBox Institute, the Matter(s) Collective explores community, creativity, and how art contributes to the sustainability of ourselves, our communities, and our planet.

Matter(s) Collective members (alphabetical):

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I haven’t been out to play so much these last couple of months — I’ve been busy putting together this show and painting in my little studio. I’ll be ready to celebrate by the May 6th First Friday Artwalk (which also happens to be the Taurus New Moon, perfect for new beginnings having to do with art and beauty) – so pop in and say “hello” – I’d love to see you.

Thanks for reading!

Holly

Stepping Into My Artist Self

For the last several months, I have been a participant in the Flagstaff Art Council’s ArtBox Institute. It’s been a deeply transformative time as I have been dedicating myself to thriving as an artist.

I will say this – being an artist does not have to mean making an oath to loneliness or poverty.

I have my first show in Flagstaff, AZ coming up in May. This is my current artist statement – you’re seeing it here first! 

My work is a physical response to my relationship with Nature and how I move through it. I’m not satisfied with skittering along the surface, with looking at the world from a distance—I have to dive in, get dirty. Whether I’m mountain biking, meditating or painting, I explore the edges, the places of shift and change, where the thin quiver of constant movement along boundaries is almost unseen. Pushing the edge requires being in the moment; it can be prickly, sharp, and jagged—it can also be fun, expansive, and sublime. My paintings often begin as a meditation in agitation. Pressing the surface of discomfort, moving with the medium, creates a shift. The result is playful and raw. I know a piece is done when I step back from the canvas and find myself dancing.

one and one makes three, oil on canvas, 18%22 x 18%22 © 2016 Holly Troy INSTA
One and One Makes Three, Oil on Canvas, 18″ x 18″ © 2016 Holly Troy

Thanks for reading!

Holly

Make Some Art! And then Share It!

Warning: Might not be “work friendly” – there’s some swearing in this video . . .

The point is – do your creative work. The world needs it!

Donuts, Aquarius, and The Shadow – Dancing with the Echoes of Eternity

Grief and the shadow have been staring me down. I’m seeing patterns, and more and more, time feels less linear to me, spherical, maybe even donut-shaped.

Addiction, alienation, secrets, power, sexuality, envy, fear – the stuff we keep hidden – I’ve been circling around the subjects and diving through. I feel like I’ve been breaking past human darkness and into something more brilliant and magnificent, something that reverberates beyond my body, beyond space, and beyond time.

Jung saw the shadow as “the seat of creativity.” What if we looked at the shadow differently? What if we if we looked at the shadow as the hidden part of ourselves that is the cosmic hyper-dimensional being that is who we are in eternity – and – what if we take that part of ourselves and integrate it into our consciousness? Shadow as the Infinite Self, rather than the lowest aspect of our being. Or, if we look at the polarity of the shadow – the lowest part must also includes the highest part.

Check out Mama Maga’s video below. She is right in synch with how I’ve been thinking about the shadow and about time lately. She’s discusses the Aquarian view of the Shadow. Our perception of reality can open or close doors to how we view and experience our lives.

Mama Maga asks, “Is the great aspect of you your shadow?” and, “How is the energy in your nervous system transforming?”

The collage below is from Tribal Donut, Issue 1, 1991, page 9 – San Francisco. I view it as incredibly Scorpionic, a way of looking at the shadow as self through creative play. The collage artist was a friend of mine at the time – Jason Keehn (a.k.a. Cinnamon Twist). The creative play I experienced in the 90s was exquisite, and I feel as if those creative doors are opening again. I feel this beautiful (and sometimes scary) part of my past is echoing into my future . . .

tribal donut page 9_cinnamon twist_shadow

Excerpt from Tribal Donut (pages 5 and 6):

Tribal Donut—somewhere between dolphin pod, sufi halka, magikal circle . . . without gurus or masters, or rather, where anyone  & anything can be a source of revelation; where each of us is both student and teacher to each other at different times; where the formal intitiatic hierarchy is dissolved into a movement of learning from one another and from life.

No program, no predefined goal, no rules: call it a kind of experiment in kaos magick.

A signal in the cracks of your so-called waking world, a blip of that way rad akashic musick-video you glimpsed yourself in your wildest, most luminescent luminous dreams . . .

A psychick postcard from the city on the edge of forever, beamed out on the pulse of Love to tomorrow’s friends . . .

Simple premise: Nobody is going to create your utopia for you. (Sidestepping here the aspect of Utopia as dead perfection). Do It Yourself. It may be small, it may be fragmentary, it may be evanescent, and the going may not be very easy, but what else is there to do? What are we here for anyway?

Finished listing excuses for why things are they way they are. after all the obstacles and inertia and “forces of oppression,” there remains a fundamental openness waiting to find channels through which it can remake itself/be remade . . . Count up the untold horrors and pains and ugliness wrought by domesticated primates on each other & their world; try to change it: struggle yes—but do you really know what you are up against, & just how deep it runs? . . .Maybe to truly take responsibility for your own life—as opposed to taking on the weight of the world when you can’t even clean up after your own mess, ‘internal’ or ‘external’—is to see that there’s really nothing preset: so assume your freedom, and out AND PLAY.

And why not create something as radically different as possible from all the dismal and abusive routines of civilization while you are at it . . .??

It was . . . so real

Dreaming of my old neighborhood(s) in New York City. Rolling over the past in my sleep, unconsciously in(ter)jecting new thoughts and experiences. In my dreams there is less concrete and more wood. The decay is still abundant.

After all the haze and horror of the 80s, the 90s was a time of hope, even among the rubble. Music, art, creativity, yoga and spirituality merged and emerged from the grayness and dust of the city, of the darkest places. It was like swimming, like falling, in a deep pool of inspiration, so many ageless children diving down and willingly sharing, exchanging, the pearls we’d found at the murky bottom.

It was a time.

I remember Jeff Buckley surfacing.

Solitude, Oil Paint, and Marianne Faithful

Had the house to myself today. I have not had many days to myself here – the house is usually full of children on weekdays, so, even if I have a day off of work, there is not much space for alone-ness or quiet unless I leave. Sometimes I just want to sleep in, or sit at the dining room table and write.

painting almost done (c) 2014 Holly TroySolitude was a gift today. I painted! It was strange, because I haven’t been alone to paint in a long while. I could feel myself making silly faces while I concentrated on painting, integrating this last month of deep deep sadness, and listening to Marianne Faithful (which isn’t so happy either, but, with her commentary about the music, her addiction and her need for love – it felt right).

I laughed at my self-consciousness—I suspect I make faces while I work all the time, but it’s been so long since I got into the flow painting that I noticed it like it was new.

Right before I awoke this morning I had this dream:IMG_1638

A swanky cocktail party is entering full swing, when out of the corner of my eye, I see that our drunk hostess, who reminds me of a middle-aged Shelly Winters, has somehow shrunk herself and is standing at the edge of the kitchen sink. She is talking to no one in particular when she slips and falls. I run over to the sink, and fish her out from under a few inches of water and booze. I’m frantic. Someone keeps pestering me for my attention. Finally, I shout, “What!!?” Everyone is amazed – I just have to see! “They” (whoever they are) have made a clone of the perfect man, Dudley Do-Right, who is my husband. For a moment, I am dumbfounded – “they” even gave him a giant chin. Ugh. Why? I think of the perfect man, and he is not Dudley Do-Right. Why did I marry this man and why are there two of him now? The hostess! Her yellow maxi-dress is sticking to her limp body. I notice a shard of glass in her hand. I turn her over and see she has a gaping gash that has torn open the side of her waist. The glass! She is not bleeding, but the wound is half of her torso. I’m trying to push it closed, and before I know her fate, I wake up. 

I was lying there for a bit. I couldn’t understand why she wasn’t bleeding. And I wondered if she was still alive, and then I wondered whether or not the fall was an accident.

And then I realized I slept for an entire night.