Category: Artist Stories
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Take Me to The River
Originally published January 26, 2011 More often than not, when I visit the water, its unstoppable motion and infinite gurgles take me to a place in my mind that is peaceful. The phenomenon of water itself overrides my heady turmoils, my rants of self-deprecation, the seemingly continual aches and pains within my physical being. Water…
lhorton2014
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What I Thought I Knew
Republished from May 26, 2017 Since last September, my life has thrown me one punch after another. The savior, which blocked the punches or made them not hurt as much, is my work. My intentions for doing and for which I have been punched have all been greater than how they were received. If I…
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My body, my earth, my activism,standing 2020-2
Continuing the story from my first entry about my passion for how I behave as one with elements of my natural environment, I decided to photograph myself standing as I interacted with long branch trimmings hanging from the ceiling of the studio. The trimmings are painted gold because I wanted to seal them. They were…
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My body, my earth, my activism, 2020-2
It is June 25, 2022, the day after the Supreme Court of the United States began to take away our human rights with the reversal of Roe V. Wade, and the Republican party could blatantly roll out its conspiracy to uproot our freedoms. Two and a half years ago, I was on the cusp of…
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Art as the First Course
Published originally on September 23, 2010 Making visual art is easy for me. Writing is more of a challenge. I started writing when I began to immerse my life in music, because I was catapulted into solitude after my ex-husband left me, lo, these many years ago. My focal points had shifted. I turned inward.…
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Words Written in 2018
I might as well have written them today. Easter Sunday, 2022. Things have shifted from 2018 to 2022 in terms of what I cite as the events occurring. It is snowing. My son and his bride-to-be were traveling last night along a highway and escaped being hit by a huge evergreen tree that fell across…
lhorton2014
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A Way Out: No, I’m Already In
Originally published October 16, 2011 In some ways, I am just so stuck. Stuck inside my box, which is a fairly large box, if one considers its contents: both metaphorically and ideologically. Those who discuss the distinction between “inside” and “outside” the box are attempting to convey the difference between status quo and revolutionary, or…
lhorton2014
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Dedicated to My Mother
It was Easter Sunday. No family around to celebrate The rising of Christ from the dead. No eggs planted anywhere. My breakfast French toast was dipped in eggs though, Drenched in syrup, where berries and cinnamon also floated. The dishes were washed. The reading of the news was done. I was sufficiently terrorized, Thrust into…
lhorton2014
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No One Else But Me
As I walked Alone On the Day Jesus Rose from The Dead, From Behind the Rock. How bleak the roadway was near the Water.The sound of it roaringWith the currentCleansed my mind.The River WaterBroken Away from the shell of IceThat surrounded it for so longThis winter.This winter time. Return me to my soul, I asked.…
lhorton2014
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An Email Exposing a Weakened Heart
May 25, 2020 …Which brings me to today’s thoughts: As I graze newspaper article headlines and sometimes read the articles if I am allowed, or review my emails which are unbearably all political or about saving the planet, or open them to unveil the Paris Review or the Daily Om, or some other intellectual, art-related,…
lhorton2014
Lyn Horton 