This series of 25 mixed media artworks on un- stretched and un-gessoed canvas, is dedicated to the memory of my oldest son, James Alexander Harmon; painter, political writer, musician, teacher, filmmaker, brother, son, friend to many, lover to one.He was a traveler, spending the last three years living and teaching and writing in Russia and Eastern Europe.
Thursday, December 8, 2016
Monday, November 14, 2016
Tuesday, November 1, 2016
Thursday, October 27, 2016
it felt like a hope
My Mother's Dreams in Wartime
The world burns before our eyes,
and the smell of everything red
is on our skin.
and the smell of everything red
is on our skin.
We wait in line for bread
that never comes. We speak
to strangers thinking they will
tell us where our lives are.
that never comes. We speak
to strangers thinking they will
tell us where our lives are.
We pray in the
barracks
and the fields for the miracle
of hope.
and the fields for the miracle
of hope.
____________________________
The author's mother survived
more than 2 years in various labor and concentration camps in Germany.
She never thought she would.
Much of the writing in his book Echoes of Tattered Tongues describe her struggle to keep going.
Tuesday, September 20, 2016
Monday, September 19, 2016
Monday, September 12, 2016
words for the newest art,within these walls,informed by the book about death row in Huntsville,Texas prison
he who fits the song together
a place for nobody
a land more kind than home
a Nobody
Sunday, September 11, 2016
Saturday, June 11, 2016
Thursday, June 9, 2016
Thursday, May 5, 2016
Wednesday, May 4, 2016
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Monday, May 2, 2016
Sunday, May 1, 2016
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Monday, April 18, 2016
Friday, April 8, 2016
Thursday, April 7, 2016
Tuesday, April 5, 2016
Monday, April 4, 2016
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Sunday, March 27, 2016
Monday, January 11, 2016
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