For so long we wanted to model dresses in Abuela’s shop. To be pretty girls with such pretty costumes, exotic as jungle flowers, with reassuring touches. But now our friends, our boyfriends, will see us. I think she is going to cry. We all want blue bracelets.
Abend Gallery is publishing a book of the images and verse from Cuba An Adventure in Image and Word. Should be out in about a month.
Some thought it cheeky, but others endearing, two women wearing the same thing, with one arm pulling close a shoulder, the sides of their touching hips swooshing as they walk barefoot along the beach, ponytails skipping behind like ecstatic puppies. Soft as a cool summer pillow, or grating like the canvas of a palm used to work, the sensuousness of Raw Linen.
She’s ageless, larger than life and nimble as a sprite, carefree, wise, and if she inspires fear, it is from the certainty she knows things, that her life is happier, this woman of big wet sloppy lipsticked kisses Dancing in the Street.
She’s a faithful old girl, yawning for the dentist, with a Bondo facelift and dentures fashioned out of parts from broken down Soviet refrigerators. On every street clubs of men tinker with their cars. Artists make brake pads and solenoids in their living rooms. The hood comes down. A puff of blue smoke, and like magic she smiles and runs smooth as factory new.
From Cuba, An Adventure in Image and Word, Paintings by Peggy McGivern and verst by Peter Stravlo, Abend Gallery, Denver
The technology is simple, brute strength under the hot sun. Everyman work, though not every man has had to do it. Praise them in poetry, appoint them our philosopher kings, for tying the rails together, making it safe for everyone to get somewhere. We should all wear green overalls.
Shutters are mainly open and wires crisscross in front of four stories. A mother sings a love song and scrubs her family’s clothes. On a floor below a boy ties his tie, dons a green jacket and red hat before skipping down flights of stairs to meet up with friends. A warm breeze turns the pages of a book while a girl does her homework, wondering how she’d get to school without her pony. On the ground floor men gather each evening to discuss how to make the parts they need to keep the Austin Healey running.
From Cuba: An Adventure in Image and Word. Opening reception tonight, 5-8pm Abend Gallery Denver. Paintings by Peggy McGivern and verse by Peter Stravlo. I’ll be reading tonight.
Rain is washing color down the canvas, making one-of-a-kind rectangles and obtuse triangles, highlighting windows and doors to my imagination. There are an infinite number of compositions, but waving the white flag of surrender, all eyes are drawn to the Orange Building.
It is too difficult to describe all the colors. Blue, black, and beige will have to do. Just imagine sitting on the only chair, waiting, patiently, for every impulse to run its course. Before long, don’t try too hard, the night sky of your mind, bathed in the light of your eyes, fills up with infinite abstract possibilities.
Two posts today. They are in my mind related. Opening Reception tomorrow! Abend Gallery, Denver
Careful how you peel it, succulent as it looks. No doubt it is foreign, but not completely unfamiliar. Juicy, seductive, already there is a bite out of it. Surely you want to taste before judging, so search your memory, maybe deep in the tangles there is a useful experience, a reference point to pivot from. If not, open wide.
From Cuba: An Adventure in Image and Word, Opening Reception Friday May 16 5-8pm Abend Gallery Denver. I’ll be reading at the Reception.
Should I cover my eyes with my hands when I look up, palm fronds undulating burlesque on ocean breezes, coconuts like phallic maracas on leggy candy cane trunks, icky odors titillating my senses, wondering my wicked smile if the reason everyone is looking and grinning is the same as mine?
Painting by Peggy McGivern, Opening Reception Friday May 16 5-8pm Abend Gallery Denver. Readings by Peter Stravlo
Peter Stravlo's Blog 