SMILE

SMILE   Ceramic sculpture by Candace Knapp
from a sandbox installation     Photo Bjorn Andren

SMILE

The thing is I just don’t want to be like everyone else.
Know what I mean?
I want to be “me”... whatever that is.
It’s the New Year and I want a fresh start.
I want to be the person inside of me that hasn’t come out yet.
I want to put on a silly hat and give everyone a smile that says,
“This is me and I don’t care what you think about it.”
So here I am at the beach
sand between my toes.  It feels good
just lying around in the sun...
blue water stretching out to the horizon ...
little birds playing footsie with the waves...
there’s a ship far away...
a constant wind...
I stop...
And listen...
I think I’m about to hatch
Please God, don’t let me be like everyone else
Please tell me I’m “special”

BLOSSOM

BLOSSOM    wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
21 inches  x 24 inches  x 24 inches    Photo Bjorn Andren

BLOSSOM

Do not be afraid to blossom
You have colors this world has never seen
and it will feel soooooo gooooooood ...
unrimple ...  relax ... elongate...
sply out with ease.
Unfurl your petals until the heart is exposed
and your sacred perfume wifs and drifts.
It is not the end when your petals fall
and you let go of everything.
No,
this is the new beginning
when the fresh seed crawls out
all wiggily giggily
and we begin again.
Everything you have ever done
is nothing compared to what comes next.
So dear one,
do not be afraid to blossom.
Never be afraid to blossom.

BLUE BUBBLE

BLUE BUBBLE   wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
29 inches x 14 inches  x 11 inches    Photo   Bjorn Andren

BLUE BUBBLE

My happiness is blue like Autumn sky,
a bubble formed deep in the
underground recesses of my soul
where painful memory
and heavy responsibility
press in on every side.
Here lives a secret.

Pressure makes a gas,
a bubble that rises
twisting and turning on it’s way
slowly moving to the surface
where it breaks free
exhales in every direction
glides into eternity
I am free
I have always been free

CAPTURE

CAPTURE         Drawing by Candace Knapp                
 27 inches x  35 inches   Photo Bjorn Andren

CAPTURE

So here it was Friday night, hard day at work,
needed to break loose...boogie down
I went to this place...cool and dark
they were playing jazz...not the frantic kind
the slow jazz I like to dance to
sipped my gin and tonic and looked around the room
over on the right ... a clearing on the dance floor   
Who will care if I dance alone?
I saunter over
like that word “saunter”
start to feel it...start to move leaning a little on the music
rhythms creeping up my spine
I’m good, real good!
Then I bump into my box ...
What that jerk said at the meeting...
All the stuff I have to do next week...
What will happen next?
Will I be able to handle it?
All dark and smokey
my deepest fear appears before me.
I call him the boogie man
He is big but I have all the right moves.
Can’t capture me.
I slide right by.
Long as I keep moving I feel alright.

LOST MOMENT I

Lost Moment I ,  clay and sand sculpture by Candace Knapp
5 inches by 5 inches by 5 inches      Photo Bjorn Andren


LOST MOMENT I

As I sit here on this bench
looking out at the vast blue ocean sliding into the sky
I try to remember the first time I saw the Pacific.
I think I was eight.
I grew up in landlocked Indiana
always wondering what the ocean was like.
Dad had decided to spend our two week Summer vacation
driving West to California.
This was before the super highways were built
and I remember the time spent in the motels studying the map
and writing down the different numbers of the routes to be taken.
The rest is a blur except for that magical moment...
I sensed it long before I saw it...something in the air,
the sound of seagulls, the wind, the smell...
I remember I ran across the sand
tore off my shoes and put my feet in the water... cold..
Then my hand and tasted it...salty.
It was as if the globe in our classroom had come alive.

Now I am trying to remember all my first moments:
first time I rode a bicycle...fast down the big hill by our house,
first time I kissed a boy...strange, scary, exciting,
first time I saw a hummingbird...so magical I almost believed in fairies
I can’t remember them all
they dissolve into the past like sand castles at the beach.
Are there any more firsts left for me?
Only one thing to do, prepare a feast of new firsts:
first trip to India,
first time to dance the Tango,
first camping trip in Colorado,
first road trip without a destination.

MIGRATION

MIGRATION    wood sculpture by Candace Knapp 
16 inches x 10 inches x 9 inches    Photo Bjorn Andren

MIGRATION

I guess you’ve heard of dung beetles
pushing those brown balls up a hill,
there are a lot of stories...
well that’s not me at all.
I am on the move though.
I’m migrating and I love it!
This is the good life
out on the road with the sun in my face and the wind at my back...
Some creatures go South this time of year
when flowers close up and an icy wind threatens.
They call this time “the holidays.”
I follow my instinct creeping into the sad and lonely places:
the little shadow below the eye,
the corner of the mouth,
the lump in the throat...
I set up camp anchoring my legs and stretching up to my full height.
Gradually, petal by petal I open my magnificent flower.
Now understand,
I am virtually invisible but when I release my perfume
everything changes;
the breath comes easy,
the heart relaxes
and the music starts to play!
Can you hear it now?

COOL BREEZE

COOL BREEZE    acrylic on wood panel by Candace Knapp
34 inches x 34 inches  x 1 ½ inches     Photo Bjorn Andren
COOL BREEZE

“I must have just dozed off,” thought Clare as the cool breeze touched her neck.
The sun was warm on her chest but there was a hint of November in the air.
“I wonder how long I was asleep?,” she asked herself as she looked down for her watch.
The yellow cat on the porch swing next to her lifted his head lazily.
“Oh that’s right, I lost it on the beach yesterday
when Georgia and I took that walk after the bridge game.
That little gold watch meant a lot. Bill gave it to me on our fiftieth anniversary.
It’s my own fault. I knew the clasp was worn. So many things fall away these days
but I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I’m one of the lucky ones. I’ve got my health
and how many people from Danville, Illinois get to live in Englewood, Florida?”
Clare looked out at the sea grapes, the palm trees and caught a glimpse of the gulf
just beyond the houses across the street. Her neighbor, Joe, passed by on his bicycle.
“I’ve been planted here,” she thought. “Just like those tulip bulbs we dug up and replanted when we moved to the house on Wilson Street. They did fine.
I am doing fine too.”
Just then a sand hill crane walked right up to her porch and looked at her,
poked around a little in the grass and then wandered off.
Mr. Anderson next door started playing his Hammond organ.
He was pretty good but he played the same songs from Sound of Music over and over.
Clare started to hum along in spite of herself.
A little smile crossed her face.

“WOMAN, WAKE UP ! “   Bill’s voice was harsh and loud.
“Get in there and make my lunch!
After that your gonna have to shovel the walk,
it’s snowing again and my back is bad today.
What’s wrong with you?
You still daydreaming about Florida?
It’s never gonna happen.”

Clare didn’t tell him.
She already lives there.

BRUCE

BRUCE     wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
74 inches  x 15 inches  x 15 inches,   Photo Bjorn Andren  
 
BRUCE

This morning when first light sliced the horizon
and distant hills were covered in white mist,
my own heart spoke to me,
“go home...”
and so I found the familiar trail, forest in shades of hazy green,
sound of my own feet on wet leaves, spider webs white with due.
On I went to the clearing where I was born.
Here the ancients stretch their heavy arms to the sky
and peace hangs in the air like a perfume.
The call of a lone crow pierced the silence.
I waited for the sun to come and warm my back,
ate a few tender green leaves and tart purple berries.
Two squirrels chased each other round my feet,
a lizard ran up a tree and the bird call symphony began.
There were soooo many tasty things to eat !
I was just nosing through the leaves for some mushrooms,
bees humming around my head,
when I felt something smooth and hard just beneath the surface.
I pulled it up with my teeth.
It was a long white bone, from a leg I guess.
In fact, it was about the size of my leg bone.
Now my kind , we are herd animals. We are not meant to live alone as I do.
Just then I was feeling a little sorry for myself and this bone came up as an answer.
It must have belonged to one of my ancestors.
It was comforting, sounds strange I know.
Anyway, I started thinking about the majestic Mother Nature
who is taking such good care of me.
I think it is because I call her “mom”.

THE RED VIOLIN

THE RED VIOLIN, wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
28 inches x 14 inches x 14 inches   Photo  Bjorn Andren

THE RED VIOLIN

Did you like the Rachmaninoff last night?
I thought we did a pretty good job.
It was exhausting though
that’s why I’m sitting on this pillow
my back hurts
You know I lead a pretty quiet life
spend a lot of time practicing
the only wild ride I had this week was Rocky II
( it was Rachmaninoff’s second symphony
but we who are in the business have our pet names)
It is thrilling when we join our voices together
and I am alive, vibrating, creating subtle nuances, little rivulets of notes.
At times the romance overtakes us and we embrace the audience with waves of sound.
We ride the music all the way to the finale.
I need to know that you heard me. I need to know that you liked it.

I have an embarrassing secret, a recurring daydream.
It is a cool evening.
I am on the front porch of a wood frame house in the mountains of Tennessee.
I am in the hands of an old man with long greasy hair
and he is playing fiddle music on me.
He stomps his foot. His shoes smell like pigs.
His wife is dancing all by herself out in the grass.
The full moon is shining through the trees.
His two sons are whirling and laughing with their girlfriends  .
We go on like this until the sun comes up
and I’m not tired at all.

Please don’t tell anyone about this.

THE MISCHIEF MAKERS

THE MISCHIEF MAKERS    acrylic on wood panel by Candace Knapp
15 inches x 11 inches x 1 ½ inches        Photo Bjorn Andren
THE MISCHIEF MAKERS

What a night !
Fred, George, Bob and I,
we went to that big party in the woods.
You know the one with the huge bonfire?
I almost can’t walk. I think I danced my ass off.
Nope ... It’s still there.
I need coffee, lots of coffee my ears are still ringing.
That music was so loud it woke the bears
and I don’t mean the real bears
I mean the ghosts of the bears, the old ones that protect the park.
I could feel them breathing down my neck.
They wanted us to leave.
They knew something
and as night grew into morning I felt it too.
There  was danger,
the slice of a claw, the swift arm of the cat.
Pain was seeping into our lives
yet we danced
and mischief was afoot.
Fred stole a pumpkin,
I peed on Rosemary’s feet while she was sleeping
George and Bob took off all their clothes and jumped in the river.
little bits of innocent fun
nothing really
the monkey was the last thing I remember just before I fell asleep.
If you want to know what really happened
you can ask the puppy.
He sees all, knows all and his heart is true.

THE FLIER

THE FLIER     wood mobile by Candace Knapp     
10 inches  x 11 inches  x 11 inches   Photo Bjorn Andren

THE FLIER

I am small
It doesn’t matter
so small, in fact, that you probably wouldn’t notice me
if I were floating in your tea
too small to care about
but I am NOT in your tea.
I am here on this earth just as surely as you are
AND I can fly
but short distances are long to me
my wings get tired
that is how I found myself here in Indiana
leaves changing to yellow and red
I flew around an apple tree
and then down to this little creek.
I found a fine cupped leaf like a boat
lay at the bottom of it
and floated through a lazy October afternoon
sky peaking out between the branches overhead.
Tell me,
is your life this good?
Mine gets even better.
I learned to relax completely.
For a little while I stopped worrying about being eaten
just listened to my tiny heartbeat.
Know what I heard?
The Drums of Africa
all the way from the other side of the earth!
It’s amazing what you can know if you just let go
for a moment...
Are you worried about being eaten?
You may as well just float
and carefully taste your own life
it will happen either way.

MORNING SONG

MORNING SONG    acrylic on canvas by Candace Knapp
13 inches x 13 inches x 1 ½ inches          Photo Bjorn Andren

MORNING SONG

Don’t you know
that today is special?
This clear blue morning calls your name.
These orange trees, this fertile earth
are speaking to you alone.
I have come from afar to tell you,
crossed the tundra harsh and cold,
burned in the desert wild,
stretched across never ending seas
and the whole journey I was singing,
singing a little song
a little sea shanty
where the verses kept repeating
like waves never ending
rhyming and coming around
again and again
telling you who you are,
remembering you to yourself.
Don’t you know
that every moment
is the only moment,
every one
is the only One
and each breath is the miracle
we have all been waiting for?

JOURNEY

JOURNEY          Drawing by Candace Knapp                
 27 inches x  35 inches   Photo Bjorn Andren

JOURNEY

Awakening this morning
to a world upside down
I continue my journey
Root ball wrapped for transport
all methods of earthly travel in doubt
relying on my own feet
I continue my journey
step by step
but my feet walk away from me
my surroundings liquid
wind blown
tossed
my horse swims upside down
dissolves into mist
I fall
continuing my journey
darkness overtakes
rumbling bison in the distance
I continue my journey
a light in the forest dark
I hold it with my eyes
it flickers
I remember it with my heart
I continue my journey
Beloved
when everything leaves me
I remember my intention
You are my journey
You are my destination

THE LESSON

SANDBOX INSTALLATION
Clay and sand by Candace Knapp
Photo Bjorn Andren

THE LESSON

Humans, you have been brought here for a reason.
Buried in the sand and made to listen
There is something that we dogs can teach you,
something you need to know.
Lift your nose and sniff the wind
it holds the breath of all who have gone before
their thoughts, what they had for dinner
So much to experience in this world
and you could easily miss it all!
I run to greet the sensations
I chase time like a rabbit
There you are running in your tight little exercise shorts
in careful straight lines
with those wires stuck in your ears.
That’s not running!
You must run with your whole heart
toes digging into the ground
mouth open, ears perked, legs stretching to the limit
ready to change direction when destiny calls.
Live in a way that makes your heart pound
and your mouth salivate.
Wake up humans !
Get your nose out of the cell phone
and lick someone’s face.

SEDUCTION

SEDUCTION     acrylic on canvas by Candace Knapp,
13 inches  x 13 inches  x 1 ½ inches     Photo Bjorn Andren

SEDUCTION

It was thinner than I had thought, this shell,
Thin like a soap bubble but cloudy and brittle.
I could sense shadows
I could hear muffled voices
there was often the warm sensation of beings passing nearby
and I was content for a long time, a round person in a round place
but something made me just want to
tap on the wall once or twice with my beak.
it was curiosity, an itch than needed to be scratched
and I thought,
“A tiny hole is no big deal. I will just peak outside one time
and that will be enough.”
Of course it wasn’t enough.
I started nibbling on the edge of that hole.
One day I stuck my whole head out.
There were beautiful colors, plants waved in the wind
and faces looked right into mine with their big staring eyes!
I wanted to hide
but curiosity pulled me out and I forgot that I was afraid.
I wanted to know about all these creatures:
What do their voices sound like?
What do they eat for breakfast?
Where do they live?
What do they think of me? What do they feel?
Is there any love out here?
Yes, there was!
I came out.
I was seduced by love.

INTUITION

INTUITION      wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
27 inches x 19 inches x  12 inches   Photo Candace Knapp


INTUITION

Through long treks across frozen fields
through rocky slopes on stormy nights
through agonizing heat and piercing wind
we have been together.
All these years
you have been my only companion
without words
without complaint
without question
we move forward
dedicated to the journey.

There are moments when the wind shifts
leafy shadows move across our path
I relax onto your back
opening my hands to let you lead
my legs melting into you
becoming your legs
Your feet whispering to the earth below
trusting that the destination is already here
within us
rooted in the moment
I trust my intuition
the journey is an illusion
there is no where else to go.

CUPIE

CUPIE        wood mobile by Candace Knapp     
6 inches  x 11 inches  x 11 inches    Photo Bjorn Andren       

CUPIE

you can tell that I’m a city girl,
I mean, I have a certain style you don’t find anywhere else
but last night I flew out to the salt marsh
by the light of the blue moon,
cool breeze under my wings,
salt grass stretching out to sea,
gulf waters seeping in between the mangrove roots,
firefly fiddler crabs in little round holes in the mud,
dark mysterious shadows, dense, silent...
I waited all night to see what would happen.
Then ever so slowly
grey sky shifts to pale blue
Mangroves from grey to chartreuse to rich green
Gulf waters at the horizon sparkle silver
and then cerulean blue
distant birds roam the sky
overhead an osprey soars then disappears
below pink roseate spoonbills sift the waters.
These are real birds
this is how it’s supposed to be.

Flying back to cement buildings
stopping outside your window
I tell you everything
wondering, “Can you hear me?
Can you even imagine?”
   

DRIFT

 

DRIFT     acrylic on wood panel by Candace Knapp
22 inches x 22 inches x 1 ½ inches   Photo Bjorn Andren

DRIFT

Beware the blue malaise,
the water element that lulls with ebb and flow.
Fingers of doubt caress and pull.
Am I good enough?
Should I even try?
Is it worth the trouble?    
imperceptibly...
sinking...
so tired...
Am I too old now?
...into a hole in the sea
where the sun cannot reach.
Rest
in the stillness
this darkest indigo blue
gradually
the wish appears
kindles
the spark of desire
the other sun
the inner fire  

                   

PICNIC

PICNIC     acrylic on canvas by Candace Knapp
17 inches  x 21 inches x 1 ½ inches     Photo Bjorn Andren 

PICNIC

It was a lovely day
naked mountains blue and hazy in the distance
and lord knows I hadn’t had a vacation in years
life had enclosed me in a small cardboard box
until my body grew old and stiff
I wasn’t ready for that yet
always wanted to go out West
drove for two days across Texas
on peanut butter sandwiches and Dr Peppers
serenaded by Willie Nelson and the Dixie Chicks
It was a dream come true
a vision quest
a journey I made by stopping
by the side of the road
sky so big I started to fall into it
had to close my eyes to find myself
car door open to a slight breeze
sun so warm I drifted into sleep
It was probably the heat but here I was
in a world all pink and cosy
a large bird was calling my name
leaves floated by
I was being watched by benevolent forces
orange sun stared at me
lovingly
I was a bubble of moisture on the hot desert floor
Is this the place the shamans talk about?
Something yellow and pleased came out from me
and I let it

RALPH

RALPH       wood mobile by Candace Knapp  
6 inches X 17 inches X 14 inches     Photo Bjorn Andren


RALPH

One thing you should know about me.
I like a good cigar
I mean a real Cuban cigar
I like to fly over to Ybor City on a Friday evening
when the fat cats and bankers are sitting outside at a sidewalk café
smoking Cubans and drinking rum.
I just go from one to the other getting whiffs of the good stuff.
Like, I’m small, they don’t notice me
but I tell you the flavor is intense.
There is a kind of cherry/cognac aftertaste
that stays with you for a long time
then
It’s on to the Cuban bakery on 15th street
to where the exhaust fan pours out those yeasty crusty flavors !
It’s heaven on earth !
I tell you,
I know how to have the good life !
Of course I had a great start.
I was born at the stables where the police horses stay.
It was a veritable symphony of smells and tastes.
Not everyone is so lucky.
I developed a discriminating nose at an early age.
We often went to Busch Gardens as a family.
That’s where you find the really exotic smells;
flamingos, iguanas, hyenas and meerkats.
Of course, there is nothing like a rhinoceros!
I feel an uneasy kinship, actually.
I mean, it’s like we are all one
and yet our smells are different.
I find that profound,
don’t you?

WINTER GARDEN

WINTER GARDEN  
graphite and pastel on prepared wood by Candace Knapp
80 inches x 44 inches   Photo Bjorn Andren

WINTER GARDEN

I was just standing here
I didn’t do anything wrong
the bird can tell you
she saw the whole thing
there was this sound
a kind of piercing icy blue wail
that shook us to the bone
and then the catchers came out
scooting around thither and yon
wildly
looking for someone who is guilty
someone is hurting
someone must be guilty
that’s what they think
but the truth is
we all droop our leaves in silent commiseration
it flows through our veins
when one is in pain we are all in pain
when one is dancing
we are all dancing

BUTTERBIRD

BUTTERBIRD    wood mobile by Candace Knapp     
22 inches  x 9inches  x 7 inches    Photo Bjorn Andren      
 
BUTTERBIRD

Sometimes a lady can have a little wiggle.
It’s actually quite charming, don’t you think?
And when a lady, I mean a very well bred
only slightly elderly and extremely charming lady,
a real lady,
has a wiggle,
she most always has a plump butt.
I mean to say a derriere.
A derriere with dignity that can slide
ever so gently to the left and to the right
when she walks
or in my case “floats”
for I am a Butterbird.
I float ever so gently through the air
with an almost imperceptible flutter of wings
and I make a sound like a faint sigh.
There is the odor of fresh lipstick just before I disappear
into your imagination.
You begin to wonder if I was ever there at all
Maybe it was a dream?
Still the little swaying to the left and to the right,
it will stay with you
It will haunt you
and sometimes you will look over your left shoulder suddenly
to catch a glimpse.
I tell you, “A real lady is hard to find in this world.
A real lady is a gift from God.”

THE BEAUTIFUL ONE

THE BEAUTIFUL ONE   acrylic on canvas by Candace Knapp
13 inches x 13 inches x 1 ½ inches   $ 500.    Photo Bjorn Andren

THE BEAUTIFUL ONE

Passing through a darkening forest
Earth wet and cold under my feet
Night closing in on me
Just then I see her
I love her from the very first moment
Is she looking this way?
Does she see me?
How long have I been standing here
with my heart in my mouth?
I am frozen in time
and she hovers before me in the light,
the light that warms my chest,
the light that makes me believe
life will soon be good again.
She flickers on and off like a firefly.
If I close my eyes will she disappear?
My mind is so fixed on her
that I am almost afraid to breathe
but when I breathe I drink her beauty
with my eyes
until I finally realize
she is only a reflection
of "The Beautiful One”
living in secret in the heart of my heart.

GREEN MEADOW

GREEN MEADOW   acrylic on wood panel by Candace Knapp
15 inches x 11 inches x 1 ½ inches     $ 600.   Photo Bjorn Andren

GREEN MEADOW

Can we ever be gentle enough?
When a thoughtless word starts a river of blood
deep beneath the surface,
we ache for the green meadow
for the healing  hands of plants
the cool misty breath of filtered light
the smell of wood and earth
There really is a safe place
where happy yellow birds drift like clouds
and tenderness surrounds like a persistent melody.
All of us open like flowers
in the presence of kindness.
Can we ever be gentle enough?

LOUISE

LOUISE    wood sculpture by Candace Knapp       
38 inches x 18 inches x 14 inches   $ 4200.   Photo Bjorn Andren

LOUISE

There is something really wonderful inside of me
I am standing very still,
concentrating and listening.
She’s not ready to come out yet but I know she is there
So I wait.
Clouds drift across the sky.
Day turns into night and then day again.
People whiz by in their cars.
Insects meander through the tall grass on their tiny legs.
Squirrels scamper closer then farther away.
I am so still that the birds don’t notice me anymore.
I listen to the wind.
Something is crawling on my nose but I do not move.
I wait.
She is telling me her secrets.
She is coming out soon.

OSCAR

OSCAR     wood sculpture by Candace Knapp   
26 inches x 26 inches x 14 inches      $3400.        Photo Bjorn Andren

OSCAR

Ok
so I have a little waddle when I walk.
It’s part of my “style”,
in fact you could say that I have a “swagger”
maybe even a “swish”.
It’s not just because I have short legs
and a magnificent shell swaying on my back.
It’s because I know who I am.
It wasn’t always this way.
People used to look down on me
and not just because I am close to the ground.
People would pass by and see me there on the sidewalk.
They wouldn’t step on me but they wouldn’t look at me either.
I was just something to be avoided,
overlooked.
They would keep on talking to each other
laughing as if I didn’t exist.
One day I constructed my magnificent shell.
It isn’t like anyone else's shell you can’t climb into it
but it is very special.
It is a flourish of me.  It is  “I AM” and I wear it with pride.
Whatever you may think of me,
I am the only one like me and you will never see another.
So what I say is this,
“waddle” is good
“swagger” is even better.

THREE ASCENDING PALMS

THREE ASCENDING PALMS ( two shown here)
wood sculptures by Candace Knapp
up to 84 inches tall   $4100 each   Photo Bjorn Andren

THREE ASCENDING PALMS

We have been in love with the sun
for as long as I can remember,
planted years ago by a squirrel
tiny fingers digging in the sand
and then forgotten.
Just the three of us standing,
our root balls holding tight against the wind.
All Winter we wait and cherish each ray of sun.
In Spring we drop great mops of pale yellow blossoms
That turn into seeds and blow in the wind.
All Summer we bake in searing white heat
growing strong and tall.
We reach for the sun yearning to touch her shining face
and then one day it happens.
Our bodies fall to the earth
Our spirits rise.

DOROTHY

DOROTHY,    wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
 23" x 9" x 16"        $2400.      Photo Bjorn Andren

DOROTHY

The name is Matilda
but Dorothy just calls me “bird”.
I don’t mind.
Most people call us “cow birds”
because we hang around with cows.
It’s not as fun as it sounds.
One day I saw Dorothy running back and forth along the fence.
She spends a lot of time in the back yard alone
because her master, Sam,  works late.
She amuses herself as best she can.
I could see she was a lot more playful than a cow.
One day I just landed in the yard and waited for her to come over.
She barked and barked but I stood my ground.
I’m no squirrel.
I don’t run.
After a while she got used to me,
walked right up and gave a little sniff.
Within six weeks I was sitting on her back,
sometimes even on her head.
I guess you could call me a companion animal.
In the evening when we hear the car drive up
I jump off and she runs fast in through the doggie door.
Not me, I don’t go in there.
I see how happy she is jumping all over Sam
and he’s petting her and giving her food.
It’s all about the food if you ask me.
I can see she wants to please him
but she knows who her real friends are.

SHY SWEETHEART

SHY SWEETHEART    acrylic on canvas by Candace Knapp
13" x 13" x 1 ½"      $ 500.        Photo Bjorn Andren

SHY SWEETHEART

I’m a nice girl.
You should like me.
Is that a smile I see?
We’ve had grand times together over the years
haven’t we?
Remember the cat?
That sound you made was like an angry screech owl.
She will never dare to come here again!
This forest is our place,
far from the noise of the village.
It is cool and green.
Being here with you is everything to me.
Remember the June bugs?
How we flipped them over on their backs and
spun them around until they were dizzy
walking away like drunk old men?
Sweetheart,
I have made us a little picnic
at the mossy place next to the river.
I have prepared nuts and berries and
those grub worms you like so much.
We have it so good.
What I fear most, dear heart,
is that you will die one day
with those words “I love you”
still caught in your throat
like some old fish bone
and I will still be waiting.

TWO SISTERS

TWO SISTERS       wood mobiles by Candace Knapp    
each 11" x 13" x 8"     Sold      Photo Bjorn Andren 
TWO SISTERS

People say we look alike but I just don’t see it.

               Me either.

I mean, there may be a family resemblance
but in many ways we are soooooo different.
For example, I like nature and you like music.

               I like nature too !

Not as much as I do!
Nature is my thing. You like music.

               Well you are more pushy.

I am not pushy, I speak up.
I speak up for myself and tell my feelings.
You don’t.

               I have feelings too!

You are more like mom and I am more like dad.
Mom didn’t tell her feelings and dad did.

               I miss mom and dad.

Me too.

               There may be some ways we are alike.
               We both look young for our age
               and we both have a good sense of humor.

It’s probably because we are Irish.

               And people say our voices sound alike on the telephone.

I think that’s a nice thing.
I think we sound like mom.

               The main difference is just that I am me and you are you!

It’s just a perspective.
You could also say that I am you and you are me.

               Let’s not go there. 





 

PRESTO VIOLINO

PRESTO VIOLINO   wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
26" x 20" x 7"     $ 3900          Photo    Bjorn Andren
available  through  Dabbert Gallery in Sarasota   

PRESTO VIOLINO

You can’t believe how fast I am !
In the hands of the right musician I am unstoppable!
It’s like being at the top of Filbert street in San Francisco
blasting down the hill on a skateboard
while buildings, cars, people........everything blurs.
I run on pure adrenaline
yet my mind is quiet, focused.
I am tempting death.
Afterwards I just smile that irritating smile.
You know ? 
Delicious!  
And when I sing Bazzini’s Dance of the Goblins
I vibrate like a caffeinated hummingbird
in the hands of my master.
No time to think,
time dissolves into sound,
notes fly like sparks,
fingers strike like wildfire and you ride the wind.
I tell you I can take you places you have never been.
Try me !

WILD SUNDAY

WILD SUNDAY   acrylic on board  by Candace Knapp
60 inches x 44 inches      $ 4000.      Photo   Bjorn Andren 
WILD SUNDAY

How about a little kiss ?
Chickie
I mean more than just a
peck on the cheek !
This long and lazy Sunday afternoon
is starting to tickle my fancy.
Bushes rustle with suggestive verse.
Warm pond water ripples against the bottoms of the
ducks
as they turn from side to side,
hiding their delight.
The day unfolds in sweet pastels
as tasty as a handful of Jordan Almonds.
Bees vibrate the flowers
humming sweet nothings under their breath.
Wind caresses the trees.
Planets whirl their moons around in
a smooth celestial waltz.
Dark matter seduces the stars.
The whole universe is in love
this sunny afternoon
while human beings sit in a dark corner
and worry about themselves.

A PASSING THOUGHT

A PASSING THOUGHT    Cast stone sculpture by Candace Knapp      
29" x 12" x 12"     $ 3200.        Photo Bjorn Andren 

 A PASSING THOUGHT

Here is an orange cushion, I say to myself
as I sit down on the cement floor of the meditation room.
Closing my eyes, I notice the drone of the fan and the
rhythmic waves of cool air that reflect off the painted cement block walls
and flow onto my skin.
Breathing in and breathing out
Sore back that needs to adjust itself
Breathing in, need to clear my throat
Breathing out, not wanting to disturb the others
Breathing in, finding quiet space
Breathing out, feeling the heart beat
Breathing in, tasting the asparagus soup I had for dinner
Breathing out, shoulders relax
Breathing in, knees are cold
Breathing out, relax neck
Breathing in, aware of my stomach moving with breath
Breathing out , sensing an underground river of thought
Breathing in, remembering to stay still as thoughts pass by
- little white paper boats of thought drifting on the underground river.
- Iridescent wishes darting here and there below the surface.
Breathing out, legs are asleep
Breathing in, I have stubby red legs
I can feel my slow deliberate steps along the bank of the river.
Notice the eddies that form shapes in the water. Shapes that  float to the surface,
making little soft sounds as they bump into each other and come alive.
Cooing sounds like doves.
Breathing out, back is heavy and stiff
I carry a heavy vessel of feelings ready to spill at any moment.
Breathing in, I know the vessel is full to the brim
Breathing out, wanting to escape I squirm
like an eel trying to swim the other way
but caught
by a mouth full of painful memories.
Breathing in, I relax
Breathing out, I observe everything
Breathing in, I smile to everything
Breathing out, embraced by silence

LADY JANE

LADY JANE    wood and resin mobile by Candace Knapp
35" x 12" x 17"    $ 3000.   Photo Bjorn Andren


LADY JANE

I always use lip liner
actually I make the top of my lips a little bigger than they really are,
I think it’s more sensual. Then I just fill in with lipstick,
the kind that doesn’t rub off on the rims of wine glasses.
I hate that, don’t you?

After Warren died I didn’t know quite what to do with myself.
It was so quiet in the house, lonesome.
Then I met Gloria and she knew Colleen who was friends with Ann,
Ann lost her husband three years ago,
so now we have lunch every Thursday at the White Rose Tea Room
over by the mall. They have pink table cloths and a white rose
on every table. It’s beautiful !

We all dress for the occasion
and since we are retired we can sit and talk as long as we like.
We wear perfume, I like to wear Jungle Gardenia by Cody.
I think we must smell like a bouquet of flowers with different scents.
Sometimes I worry that my hand cream scent clashes with my perfume
but it’s all good.

I don’t know what I would do without my friends.
It feels as if a golden light is shining down upon us as we
pour cups of tea and eat chicken salad sandwiches.
I like Jasmine tea but some of the others prefer English Breakfast.
After that we have little cakes and chocolates.
We have all lived long enough to treasure these moments.
We linger here and savor every taste, every word, every kind smile.
Life is so very tasty and good.

SEA OF GOLD

SEA OF GOLD        acrylic on canvas by Candace Knapp 
13" x 13" x 1 ½"       $ 450.          Photo Bjorn Andren


SEA OF GOLD

Awakened
from a late afternoon nap by sun on my face
I open my eyes to a sea of gold pouring through an open window.
Dust particles glisten against the ceiling.
Shapes drift by, floaters in the liquid of my eyes.
Age has its charm.
I now see the layers beneath the surface.
Thoughts become life forms
mingling in the air above
like guests at a cocktail party.
Inner and outer worlds collide
creating conversations, faces, colors that slide. 
Everything is speaking to me.
Stories brush against my ear like invisible radio signals
and I have time to listen.
I am here for you.
I am not crazy yet.

FRANCOIS

FRANCOIS     Wood Sculpture by Candace Knapp    
29" x 42" x 13"        $ 4800.      Photo Bjorn Andren

FRANCOIS

    I see the way you look at me! You are thinking, “he is made of wood. He does not suffer.” But you are so wrong. I suffer more than you can imagine. People look at my beautiful horns and they say, “Oh, he is a goat.”  Would you be happy if someone called you a goat? I am NOT a goat. I am Francois but people do not want to know this. They do not want to know me! They prefer to decide that I am some animal so they won’t have to know me or speak to me.  They insult me and then they turn away. I tell you I am Francois. I have dignity, I hold my head high...but I bleed inside. They hurt me, these people. And here I was ready to be their friend ! It is a painful truth. 

    There is something more. You see, I have short legs. Many people have short legs, Napoleon had short legs. It is not so unusual. I have my dignity AND I have short legs but people do not see this. They say a terrible thing. I almost cannot say the word it is so hurtful. They call me a dachshund.  I am not that word.  I am not some poopie little puppie!  I am Francois!  Why do people always want to know “What is it?” Then they can put me in a box in their mind and forget me. Why do they not ask, “Who is he? How can I meet him? What does he eat for breakfast?” Why do they not say, “How strange and beautiful and friendly he is?”

    I am glad you are standing there listening to me. You are probably thinking, “Francois is just some old sculpture standing around all day. He has no adventures, no stories to tell.”  How little you know!  I smile inside!  Right now I am having an argument with myself. Should I tell them or should I not tell them? Are you really listening to me?  Do you know that listening is a great art? Can you listen  without running off someplace in your mind? It is not so easy. Now I am looking at you and I see that you have beautiful eyes. I think I would like to tell you one of my secrets.   

    This is a small secret. You think I am just standing here. Everyone thinks that but I have fooled them all. I travel far and have adventures you cannot even imagine. How do I do this? In my imagination!  One place I love to go is the forest. My forest has a lot of very tall thin yellow trees. It is so dense that the light filtering down to the grassy floor is in thin golden threads. Up above I hear the leaves shifting in the wind. That is my favorite music. It is easy to be lost here because it looks the same in every direction. My mind gets confused but the land rises and falls and my feet remember the way. I follow my feet. I cannot say there is a path but there is a slight opening between the trees that seems to continue and lead me on. I find that it is always like this. There is always a direction if you know how to look for it.  I keep moving. I trot along like a great war horse. I can even leap over fallen trees. I tell you my legs are terribly strong. This place I am going to, it is calling me. It is pulling me. I am on my way and the way seems very familiar.  There are tall grasses. Afternoon sunbeams warm my back and   I can smell something.  What is that?  I think I am thirsty.  Now the trail is going down to a clearing.  Oh I remember. There it is, a pool of clear water surrounded by mossy rocks. I approach carefully and with great respect.  I reach down and taste the cool water on my tongue. I drink deeply. It feels like life is coming into my body.  Then I just pause and sniff the air above the water. The water becomes calm like a mirror. Suddenly  I see him, the magnificent Francois with his beautiful horns and his kind eyes. He is there in the pool looking back at me! My heart rejoices.

    Friend, I won’t tell you any more right now. I have given you enough. But don’t you agree that I  have wonderful adventures?    Someday I will tell you another story but first you must give me a beautiful smile and be careful because I will know if it is a real smile or not. Now go away.       

THE LOOKOUT

  
    THE  LOOKOUT   wood sculpture by Candace Knapp    
    16" x 6" x 5"         SOLD           Photo Bjorn Andren
   


 THE LOOKOUT

After a long grey winter It happened that one day the sun came out
the leaves opened wide and  POP,  here I was all new and tender !
After that I started watching everything.
I kept my eyes open and the more I saw the more I understood.
Just yesterday there was this brown dog that sniffed me.
He had a bushy tail that hit me square in the face. Oooo so scratchy.
Then yesterday afternoon there was a barbeque.
I found out that I am on the lanai, that means screened porch in Florida,
with some plants just above the ice chest where the drinks are.
People were coming over to me all the time and one plump woman
even exclaimed, “Oh, How Beautiful !”  That’s when I found out
I am standing next to an orchid.

Two small children sat on plastic chairs facing me.
They were eating ice cream cones and swinging their legs back and forth frantically.
That’s when I realized I could really read people. Kids just want to have fun.
I hope they won’t come over and bump me. It is a danger.
I feel that my purpose is to be on the lookout for danger.
I watch for it. There was one heavyset man with a blue shirt and long whiskers
who came to the ice chest a lot. I could feel so strongly that he is
in the habit of being angry. I have my eye on him and also on
a nervous lady with a high voice who titters around the lanai on quick little feet.
Another woman, tall and grey, sipped white wine slowly and smiled.
More and more people filled the room, too many to watch.
The noise became almost unbearable and then there was music.
An elderly gentleman took his wife by the hand and started dancing next to the pool. 
I worried a little that they might fall in but still it was nice.

The best thing that has happened to me so far is that Linda passed by.
She stopped, looked right at me and said out loud, “I like this one.”
Wow! I try not to show people how excited I am but
Gee, it’s all I can think about night and day.
Linda likes me.
I think she has stolen my heart.

JONES

JONES       wood mobile by Candace Knapp       5" x 18" x 12"       Sold

JONES

You can call me "Jones."
That's not really my name and it doesn't matter
because I will never tell you my real name.
I am camouflaged and you will never see through my disguise.
You might think of me as a branch of a tree or a snake.
When I slip through the air with my leaves rustling
I might remind you of a dragon.
Of course I am none of these and you will never know what I am.

I am more interested in what you are.
Though you usually don't see me, I am always here.
I watch you and listen to every word you say,
repeating your thoughts to the wind so that they travel
in great circles around the earth. You are very important to me.
I study your face to see signs of what you are feeling.
I watch you with other people and when you are alone.
I notice how you have changed over the years, I remember everything.

When you breathe I feel the air shift and when you fall asleep
it is as if a light had gone out. When you are sad my heart aches
and when you are happy I fly around in circles until I get dizzy.
I am the dearest friend you will never know.

You can call me "Jones."

MELISSA

MELISSA      Wood Sculpture by Candace Knapp      26" x 12" x 11"        $ 2400.
Photo Bjorn Andren


MELISSA

Hi, I’m Melissa.
You can see that I have amazing potential.
I’m just not ready yet and I don’t want to be pushed.
Sometimes I just like to think about all the possibilities,
all the wonderful things I will do some day.

I think I could be really famous.
I’m a pretty good dancer, you know,
and I like to sing but maybe not so much in front of people.
My friends all tell me that I have style.
I could be a fashion model!
Or a scientist!
My grandmother says that I am really smart
and should use the brains that God has given me.

So,
I think this is going to work out really well
Just now I am waiting for the right moment.
Do you ever feel like that?
You know, just waiting for the right moment?

In the meantime
It’s really good that I am patient with myself.

SWEET DREAMS

SWEET DREAMS     wood mobile by Candace Knapp     70" x 48" x 24"      $ 8200.
Photo Bjorn Andren

SWEET DREAMS

This tree knows me, cares for me,
stretching her arms in great green arcs
that protect me from sun, wind, and curious intruders.
Like a ripening fruit suspended from a green canopy
I turn slowly on a breath of air.
No one can find me here. I am safe and I can sleep.

I am in the sweetest dream now,
the place of all possibilities, the place where ideas are born.
Faint half-formed images like wisps of color brush against my cheek.
Forgotten melodies drift sideways beneath me softly humming to each other.
Fragments of poems scatter lost words that join together in unexpected friendships.
This is where it all begins. This is where I learn to dance
turning slowly at first. Wherever I lean my head,
my body follows.  Whatever I yearn to know,
I experience.  I feel myself falling.
I have earned my dancing shoes.

Am I the fruit or am I the seed?
Perhaps I am only  the fanciful daydream
of a maple tree giving wings to her seeds
so they can whirl and dance as they float down to earth
and begin again.