People always want to know what things mean in art. I think the questioning is part of what makes us part of the fabric of the art. If it were all spelled out for us, then how could we really be partaking in the wholeness of art? Que?? I think there’s no way to define what a real piece of art is, other than your own interpretation. So, in that vein I give you, A Dress in the Stream.
Ok, maybe I can give you a clue, and perhaps let you go from there. Please know that this only came to me after the piece was done, not before:
A Dress in the Stream
There was doubt she would finish, but maybe not first…
Though she tried with all her heart and might…
Amidst a floating dream, her heart burst with passionate excitement…
A stream that once rippled with hope, and promise…
was now just a memory…
Time was plenty, back when dresses were fancy, and kids played on rocks…
Thirsting for nature, she laid by the water’s edge,
waiting for a sign from God…
She was young, and porcelain white…
A restless beauty ready to conquer the world…
Her art sought her out, and she sought her art,
in the space between the ocean and the gravel…
She was all dressed up, with nowhere to go…
but walked with confidence, that there would be a place for her…
even in the cold, wintry mix of snow and ice…
She always found her crevice of peace…
Bubbling up with joy, she ecstatically danced
into a spiraling-round of remembrance…
She was alive and free…
Her shoulders soft and her luscious, brown hair flowing…
Her fancy, pink dress held her emotions close to her body…
An incomprehensible mystery was about to unfold…
So she sat on the stone wall, by the stream, waiting for an answer…
She danced in many shoes, and swayed in the moonlight,
gently rocking side-to-side…
wishing and wondering…
wondering and wishing…
An infinite place of wisdom rose up within her,
as tears welled up from the depths of her heart…
Images danced in her head and spun her into a pretty, little bow…
She tried to capture that time in her hand,
but it faded into a smoky mist…
There went her close-up, and fancy dress, and time for playing on rocks…
She felt light pouring over her, warming her soul…
In complete resolve, she watched the time go by in the stream…
taking with it, all that rippled from her past…
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I thank Amelia Golden for being the brains behind the camera and the wizard behind the curtain. She brought her creative juices to the shoot, and carried equipment, costumes, lighting, and lots of enthusiasm, for which I am forever grateful! We had a lot of fun editing in Starbucks! Much love and appreciation to Annie Heinemann… a beauty who knows no bounds! Enjoy this film, and let me know your thoughts as they float down the stream…