. Spinning .

I have left the beginner for the end, being hypertextually inclined to screw with linearity that way.

Steve Ersinghaus is the starting point for the 100 Days: Summer 2009 project, a reversal of his role with Carianne Mack in last year’s 100 Paintings and Poems. It is easy to see why we have so many visual artists in the group; Steve not only is near unmatchable in story or poetry in his vivid imagery and narrative style, but he paints pictures with words that create inspiration to interpret graphically.

There is motion more than action, characters laid open to explore. For example, read this from #13 The Flight:

You see your wife disappear around the house but her name is lost to the width of your tongue. You find the image of the children in their white shorts and clean shoes in the grass and the dog watching them lovely and strange. They are sounds to listen for, colors to draw, mysteries to penetrate eventually, maybe on landing, and you wish you could remember her name. You wish you could touch her, the way you always did, which you, of course, can remember.

The wind is warm on your face, and you tell the world beneath you, which has the color of stone and glass, that you could always try harder. You could always try harder to remember but its impossible.

Yes, he’s an English Professor, but more, he’s an artist, a writer, a poet, and open to all manner of expressing the forms. More from Steve at his regular website here.

In what she terms “verbal visuals”–and what a lovely term for visual story–Denna Hintze-Yates adds a unique perspective to the 100 Days: Summer 2009 Group with images that have the ability to capture a story into a moment, a single image of great depth and meaning.

Here, a small boy wakes in the night to go to the bathroom. He stops by the window to look out at the night. We can immediately tell the danger the night poses to him, but the look of trust and hope on the boy’s face makes us wish we could reach and pull him back into the safety of his home.

Denna does some amazing things in her art, collages of focused story.

Maggie claims ” I think all of you who write are so creative and good long-range planners, too! I can barely come up with one story . . .)  But Maggie is wrong.

A part of the 100 Days: Summer 2009 story project Maggie’s daily offering at Feed the Body, Feed the Soul is an image of usually what becomes that night’s meal. There is a world of story in these pictures.

She sets mood and tone with what looks to be Fiestaware dishes, complementary to the food on the plate and matched to placemats and utensils so color plays a huge part in these compositions. There is balance, an instinct for survival in the planning of each meal as a healthy repast.

There is texture, taste, scent, visual appeal–and maybe it even speaks to us. There are the days when Maggie comes home late and we see the element of time in her day. And humor; for I know John must wait patiently to sit down to his meal as Maggie must first take a picture.

Sitting in the bathtub with the drummer on a late Saturday morning. Chicago on the radio, my Japanese flag curtains covering the windows to the downtown world below. Toes playing fingers, washing off remnants of love. Suddenly sirens and eyes searching eyes. Picking through bubbles for last spoken words. Then silence except for the drummer and the drummer picks up his beat.

It was only the noon whistle, he says. But the moment of the end was beginning.

This is too funny; still unused to the format here at WordPress posting I tend to forget to select a category and that’s why if you’re following via feed you may see a lot of updated posts. But this: Not quite with it on the ‘tag’ concept and in my cloud, amid “Literature” and “Blogging” and “Reality” you’ll see “Add new tag.”