Back in March I joined the Disintegration Collaboration group dreamed up by the wonderful mind of Seth Apter over at The Altered Page. Our mission was to create mixed-media bundles that could be left outside in the late winter weather to begin to degrade and disintegrate. To fall apart. To let time and the elements have their way with paper and string and thread and objects that made up our offerings.
Seth's idea was to make "bundles", but I, not always reading the directions correctly, chose to make hanging poem flags. Stitched together collage arrangments with the William Stafford poem, "You and Art", written on the back with Sumi ink*, tied to the limbs of the Hawthorne tree outside my studio window.
Your exact errors make a music
that nobody hears.
Your straying feet find the great dance,
And you live on a world where stumbling
always leads home.
Year after year fits over your face—
when there was youth, your talent
later, you find your way by touch
where moss redeems the stone;
and you discover where music begins
before it makes any sound,
far in the mountains where canyons go
still as the always-falling, ever-new flakes of snow.