Recent News and Journal entries , September 7th 2011 -
• Women Embodied/ Cuban Women’s Art from Diaspora at Sangre de Cristo Art Center, Pueblo, CO. ends Oct. 15th, panel Oct.2nd read more
• RI Council on the Humanities funds A Natural History Continuum at the Hale House, Matunuck, Ri. Ana Flores to serve as scholar/artist in residence read more
• Poetry of the Wild boxes installed in Mystic at the Mystic Arts Center read more
• Ana Flores featured speaker and visiting artist for Goddard College, MFA Multi disciplinary studies, Port Townsend, WA read more
and the last journal page from Nova Scotia, Aug.22/2011:
What the Bear Knows
It’s the end of August and I’m searching for gooseberries the color of red wine. For a few hours I have uni focus like a bear might have as I forage in the fragmented light and shadow of the underbrush. Hoping not to meet my competitor I trample clumsily over dead branches making enough noise to scare away all wild neighbors on this mountain bigger than me including the mountain lion whose scat I’ve recently detected. When I do glance up from my work I see a sea of broken diamonds and charade of clouds on the horizon. The fluid form and light imprint my soul more profoundly than any snapshot.
I’ve learned a few simple truths while foraging: gooseberries hide better than raspberries. They suspend down below a row of leaves and disappear into shadow. Once found a few good gooseberry bushes will reward you with a quick harvest. Raspberries, on the other hand, hang like rare jewels on display and proclaim, “I’m here”. They demand you chase them across long distances to collect enough for one paltry jar. I’ve pursued both this summer and I’m pleased to have several bottles brimming with the essence of this mountian, sealed and waxed . These will be packed into the car tomorrow along with clothes, books, and my beach treaures for my long road trip from Nova Scotia to Rhode Island. During the winter months back in Rhode Island when I run rather than walk, hustle rather than forage, I’ll slather this liquid poetry on toast and savor the knowledge that the bear and mountain lion walk with and we try to forget.