High Desert Art
  • Jeanette Collins
  • Page I Painting
  • Page II Sculpture
  • Words...

Hail, Ceres

3/30/2015

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Picture
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Seasoned

3/28/2015

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Picture
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Daffodils

3/26/2015

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Picture
Daffodils

The
Frilled
Cup
Faces
Hold
A 
Bold
Question.
Why?
The
Spray
Of
Petals
Register
Shy
Surprise
At
The
Reply.

You 
Are
Chosen
To
Bring
Fair
Spring,
And
Ease 
The
Frosty
Earth
With
Nature‘s
Mirth.
First
To
Bloom,
First
To
Fade,
You
Retire
To
Shade,
In
The
Snug
Bulb
That
Magic
Made,
To 
Come
Again
In
A
Golden
Host,
Just
When
You’re
Needed
Most.


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Ambiance

3/24/2015

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Picture
Ambiance

Dawn
Rain
Has
Blown
By,
Leaving
The
Sunrise
A 
Gilded
Thumb
Print
In
The
Sky.
I drink
My
Tea
And
Wonder
Which
Power
Will
Decide,
Morning 
Gold,
Or 
Misty
Grey,
As
Slowly,
The
Veil
Of
Cloud
Draws
Away,
To 
Reveal
The
Strength
Of
Day.


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2 AM

3/22/2015

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Picture
2 AM

This
Is
The
Hour
Of
Sweet
Repose,
When
No
One
Knows 
What
Comes
Between
Sleep
And
Dream.
In
Darkness,
My
Rooms
Become
A
Mystery
Of
Form
Without
History,
And
Spirits
That
Haunt
My
Day
Hold
Sway.
This
Life
I’ve
Made
Is
A 
Kingdom
Of
Shade,
Far
From
What
I know,
My
Morning
Self 
A
Show
Of
Bright
Light,
To
Chase
Away
The
Night.


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Words To Live By....

3/20/2015

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Picture
Head Carved Colorado Alabaster 12" High X 33" Circumference On Ebonized Walnut Base
Words To Live By

‘Beauty
Is,
As
Beauty
Does’,
I heard
For 
Years, 
And
For
Years 
I diligently
Did,
But 
Am
No
More
Beautiful
Than 
I was
As
A 
Kid.
So
What’s
The
Deal?
Was
Any
Thing
They
Told
Us
Real?
‘Eat
Your
Veggies,
And
Live
Forever’,
Patently
A
Useless
Endeavor.
Oh,
Well,
Let’s
Take
A 
Break.
Pass
Me
The
Cake,
And
We’ll
Go
Straight
To 
Hell.


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Rode Rage

3/18/2015

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Picture
Rode Rage


Busy
San
Mateo
Puts
Me
In
A
Tizzy.
The
Street
Is
So 
Lumpy
Bumpy,
It
Hurts
My
Back,
Its 
Like
Driving
On 
A
Rail
Road
Track. 
I’m
In
My
Usual
Hurry, 
But
Worry 
My 
Axle
Will
Crack.
The 
City
Is
Built
On
Sand, 
There’s 
Little
Solid
Land,
So
Roads
Sag, 
Crack
And 
Bend
Faster
Than
Crews
Can
Mend
Or
Repave.
My
Friend,
The
Situation
Is
Grave.
Slow
Down,
Or
We’ll
Collapse
The 
Town.


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Monday In March

3/16/2015

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Picture
Monday In March

Up
Before
The
Sun,
To
Do
What
Must
Be
Done.
I have
To
Get
An
X-ray,
My
Doctors
Say,
To
See
Beneath 
My
Skin,
And
Check
What’s
Going
On
Within.
I will
Either
Live
Or
Die,
So
Let
Them
Try
To
Cure
My
Ills
With
Pills
And
Such,
Before
They 
Must
Do
Too
Much, 
In
Hot
Desire
To 
Drag
Me
Through 
Surgical
Fire.
I put
Myself 
In
Their
Hands,
And 
Strive
To 
Meet 
Complex
Demands.
I have
A
Need
To 
Live,
And 
They
Have
Lots
Of 
Life
To
Give.




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On Hearing, On Speaking

3/14/2015

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Picture
Praise

The 
Book
In
My
Hands
Contains
Drawings
As 
Fine
In
Line
As 
Spider
Strands.
The
Binding
Has
Come
Apart,
But
Each
Page
Is
Etched
In
My
Heart.
For
Delicate
Thoughts
And
Subtle
Wit,
Nothing
Can
Exceed 
It.
I would
Be
Joyous
If
The
Work
Was
Mine,
But
It
All
Belongs
To
Richard
Stine.
Homage,
Gentle
Man,
From
A
Devoted
Fan.


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Maintaining

3/12/2015

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Picture
Maintaining

Another
Workman
Coming,
To
Keep
My
Old
House
Humming.
Fixing
The
Window
And
The
Door,
The
Coolers
And
The
Floor,
To
Mow
The 
Lawn
And
Prune
The
Trees.
I would
Like 
Them
Please
To
Go
Away,
But
I hire
And
Pay
Somebody
Every
Other
Day.
My
Humble
Person
Needs
Repair,
Tended
By
Sage
Physicians
Who
Patch
And
Mend
Up
Here
And
Down
There, 
To
Keep
Me
Upright
In
The
Air.
Both
Dwellings
Are
My
Only 
Home,
Taking
All 
I have
To
Give,
So 
That
I keep
My 
Place
To
Live.


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