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

Exhibition II

8/31/2016

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Picture
*The Road To Arroyo Seco* Oil On Paper
Exhibition II

Fie
On
Thee,
Obnoxious
Critic, 
With
Your
Remarks 
Acidic.
You
Dismiss
With
A 
Yawn
Work
That
Took
Dusk 
To
Dawn
And
All
The
Day,
So
Go
Away.
What
Have
You
Made,
To
Judge
What
Does
Or
Doesn’t
Make
The
Grade?
There
Is
Talent
Among
Artists
Here
And
To 
Spare,
But
It
Takes
Wit
To
Care,
To
See
What
Can
Be
Achieved,
And
Give
It
Praise,
But
All 
You 
Do 
Is
Turn
A 
Phrase.
Art
Is
Long,
As
Has
Been
Said, 
And 
Will
Flourish
When
Your
Bitter
Words
Go
Unread.

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On Loss

8/29/2016

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Picture
*Garden In Rain* 8" X 10" Oil On Linen
On Loss

Dreams
Die,
But
By
And
By
Another
Comes
Along
With
It’s
Seductive
Song.
Join 
The
Dance
And
Take
The
Chance
There
Is
No
Right
Or
Wrong.
Pleasure 
Perceived 
As
Pain
Can
Be
Hard
To
Sort.
I can
Report
Times
When,
Alone
And
Afraid,
I held
My
Own
Hand
For
Comfort,
So
I understand
That
Fears
Take
Years
To
Overcome.
Dry
Your
Tears,
And
Never
Succumb.
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Exhibition

8/27/2016

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Picture
Exhibition

The
Drawing
Is
In
Black 
Ink,
The 
Paper
So
Coarse
It
Will
Slowly
Drink
The
Color
Down
To
Brown. 
The
Image
Will
Remain
Until
It
Too
Goes
Fugitive.
Now
It
Lives.
The
Image
Hovers
In
Air
On
Trembling
Legs,
A 
Humble
Straight
Chair,
But
What
Can
Be
Seen
There
Encompasses
All
Of
Fine
Art,
Anywhere
You 
Start.
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Outsider

8/25/2016

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Picture
Outsider

Bones
And 
Strength
Within
Hold 
Up
Our
Skin,
And
That’s
All
We
Have
To
Begin.
Then
Needs
Must
Deny
The
Shade
Genes
Made,
From
Brown
To
Black.
There’s
No
Way
Back,
And
Anger
Grows
Toward
Those
Who
Dwell
In
A 
Pale
And
Rosy
Scheme.
What
Use
To
Pursue
The
National
Dream?
No
Easier
To 
Let
It
All
Go
By,
Cry 
Foul,
Strike
Out,
Threaten
And
Growl,
Curse
Fate
And
Slam
Life’s
Gate
That
Might 
Have
Taken
You 
In,
Despite
The
Color
Of
Your
Skin.
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Prodigy

8/23/2016

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Picture
Prodigy

A
Virtuoso
At
The
Piano,
Playing
Bach
Before
He 
Could
Walk,
Music
Was
His
Childish
Talk.
Nonetheless,
He
Grew
Up
To
Be
A
Mess.
The
Belly
Side
Of
Life
Drew
Him
In,
Startling
All
His
Kin.
“When
Did
This
Begin?”
They
Cried,
But
No
One
Replied.
Nothing
Came
To
Stop
His
Reckless
Game,
His
Gift
Descended
Into
Shame.
Even
If
A
Man
Can
Play,
That
Won’t
Save
The
Day.
Life
Is
A
Spiral
Luge
With
Scant
Refuge, 
And
Without
A
Song,
It
Will
All
Go
Wrong.
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Vignette

8/21/2016

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Picture
*Landscape* 20" H X 24" W Oil On Linen
Vignette

“Plus
Que
Lente,”
She 
Said 
From 
Her 
Bed.
The
Nurse
Watched
Things 
Go
From
Bad
To
Worse
As
She
Read
Hopkin’s 
Verse
To
A
Woman
Who
Did
Not
Care,
Whose
Mind
Had
Wandered
Off
Somewhere.
More
Than
Slow
?
Death,
Or
Life,
Dwindling
Until
One
Can
No
Longer
Know?
She 
Looked
Back
At
What
Had
Been
Read,
Then 
At
The
Woman,
Now
Dead.



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Dirge

8/19/2016

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Picture
Dirge

To
Those
Who 
Are
Bereft,
Who 
Have
Been
Left
Adrift
As
Love
Departed,
For
All
The
Broken
Hearted
Who 
Had
Not
Known
They
Would
Be
Stranded
Alone.
There
Is
Much
To
Regret
And
Some
To
Forget,
But
I can
Say
There
Will
Come
A
Better
Way.
Take
This
Mourning
Day
To
Pick
Clean
The
Bones
Of
Sorrow,
And
Wait
For
Tomorrow.
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Omen

8/17/2016

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Picture
Omen

In
This
August 
Morning’s
Wind,
I sense
Summer’s
End.
My
Garden 
Thins,
Flower
Heads
Droop
Down,
And
Soon
The
Beds
Will
Be
Brown
Earth,
Although
Autumn
Has
It’s
Vibrant
Worth.
Bulbs
Will
Rest
And
Roots
Will
Sleep
Safely 
In
The
Ground
Until
Seasons
Turn
Around
And
Fragrant
Flowers
Rise
To
Greet
Spring
Skies.



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Author

8/14/2016

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Picture
*Sally Rosenbaum*
Author

The
Stories
Penned
By
Miss
Small
Tell
Little,
If
Anything
At
All,
Only
A
Portion
Of
What
She
Really
Longs
To
Say
To
Portray
Words
Buried
In
The
Everyday,
All
The
Way
Back
To
The
Diary
Her
Mother
Read
After
She
Had
Gone
To
Bed,
Secrets
She
Had
Wished
To
Keep,
Pilfered
While
She
Feigned
Sleep.
So
It
Is
That
Miss
Small
Writes
Books
With
All
Her
Dreams
Turned
Inside
Out 
To
Show 
The
Seams
But
Hide
The
Eyes
Behind
Her
Knowing
Disguise,
Laugh
And
Sign
Another
Improvised
Autograph.
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Peach

8/13/2016

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Picture
Peach

First,
Into
And
Through
The
Rosy
Gold
Fuzz
To
The
Juice
Laden
Flesh,
The
Essence
Of
Fresh.
Wrinkled
Seed
Aside
Shows
How
It
Grows,
Ragged
Center
Tinged
With
Pink.
Eat,
And
Think
Of
Summers
Past,
Knowing
Again
Which
Flavors
Truly
Last.
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