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?