Saturday, December 29, 2012
SMILE Ceramic sculpture by Candace Knapp
from a sandbox installation Photo Bjorn Andren
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 think I’m about to hatch
Please God, don’t let me be like everyone else
Please tell me I’m “special”
Saturday, December 22, 2012
BLOSSOM wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
21 inches x 24 inches x 24 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
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.
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.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
BLUE BUBBLE wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
29 inches x 14 inches x 11 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
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
Saturday, December 8, 2012
CAPTURE Drawing by Candace Knapp
27 inches x 35 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
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.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
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.