Friday, February 7, 2014
wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
7 by 7 by 6 inches
An accommodation must be made
someone must make room
a silent place opens
a container is provided
There is a clear space in the mind
where ideas form
Wait for it
Sunday, January 12, 2014
MOONLIGHT RIDE wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
39 inches x 19 inches x 15 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
I have a beautiful flower
ripe with perfume
quiet and alone
in the forest deep.
I will pull up my roots
and begin my moonlight ride
How delicious I am!
How subtle and sweet!
I will sprinkle my scent in the evening air
I shall gallop across the meadow
careen down hills
prance through the city
meander in great circles around the park.
I know I cannot survive
without my roots in the earth
but I have the traveling fever
and I want to find you.
Can you see me yet?
Do you know I am near?
I would do anything to make you smile.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
acrylic on wood panels by Candace Knapp
10 inches x 10 inches
Seemed like only yesterday
I was a second grader in a school picture
Am I still?
They told me I was a Pisces, a fish
I do feel myself swimming in the great river of time
Am I still?
There are moments and there are years
all melting together into one great picture
reds running into blues
green shallow places
bubbles that suddenly appear
and blank white spaces
finally I can step back
climb out of my frame
stretch my arms
feel my feet planted
and ask the question
Am I still me?
Then I wonder ...
Who is that?
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Waiting for Bamboo
acrylic on wood panels by Candace Knapp
10 inches x 10 inches
WAITING FOR BAMBOO
Waiting for bamboo
to reach the sky,
there is yearning.
Dragonflies circle above.
slips across the flowers,
penetrates the bamboo forest.
The young bamboo
does not seem to move
and yet it is taller every day.
I begin to understand.
the force that stirs within
when the intention is pure.
When thought is singular
there is no limitation.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
This Old Body Dancing
wood collage by Candace Knapp 10 inches x 10 inches
THIS OLD BODY DANCING
Just a little stiffness
in the knee
a tight shoulder
a clunk when my head goes back
It won’t stop me.
When the drumming starts
I move out gentle
a tiny swish of the hip
and the rhythm grabs my feet
a bare foot SLAPS against the floor
again and again
I want more
I am an African warrior, proud and sure
my legs carry the weight of ten men
but then . . .
the violins intrude
I turn, stretch and whirl
I am a gypsy, dark and mysterious
sliding across the room
dark curls fly
head back laughing. . .
a blue and quiet melody
that floats me to the floor
a white swan landing
on a mirrored lake.
When an old woman dances
she can be anything!
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Girl in Detox - Sun Outside
wood collage by Candace Knapp 10 inches x 10 inches
GIRL IN DETOX - SUN OUTSIDE
Just believe it
the sun is there
the thinnest silver beams of light
sweetly slide through dense cement
and find you
let your heart be warmed
whatever tangle your life is in
just watch for it
love was there all along
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
CHANGE painting by Candace Knapp
8 inches by 10 inches
As I stand here
flutter by wings
in yellow flowers
stilled ... satiated
quietly becoming petals
curled and dropped
as tiny boats
that float down dreams
into dark bottom fish
riding unseen currents
rising to become
slithery reflections of light
in my watchful eye.
What stays the same?
Sunday, July 14, 2013
SPRING wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
32 inches x 16 inches x 14 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
It has been raining for days.
Low hanging clouds
drive me down to my roots
to the dark place where it all begins again,
the darkness where diamonds are formed
by intense pressure and solitude.
Here the longing begins,
the longing to emerge,
to see the light of day
and turn it into rainbows.
We never know our own beauty
until it pierces the illusion
like some blade of grass slicing through cement.
All it takes is an unguarded moment
a breath without effort...
And we arise.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
PATIENCE wood relief by Candace Knapp
40 inches x 13 inches x 3 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
waiting for something to pass
for something to begin
Emily was quietly staring out the window when the rains came.
Joe across the street had been walking his little brown dog,
now they both ran.
It was a Sunday afternoon,
old science fiction movies on TV
No phone calls ...
Last night she had come close to finishing her book
but the ending eluded her
reminding her that some relationships
some wars never end
and some long cherished dreams have no resolution
only a gradual understanding
that forms in the long silent moments
between the great events.
Friday, April 19, 2013
PEACEMAKER wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
95 inches x 25 inches x 25 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
When the world goes “BOOM” you need me,
realize I was in you all along.
A river of life rises through your spine
and scans the far horizon for signs of
stress . . .
. . . an inharmonious note
. . . a broken rhythm
. . . a smile that is a little forced.
Long before the bullets fly
and the sword is drawn,
long before the angry word
or the icy look
there is an imperceptible ripple in the air
a loss of peace.
A peacemaker knows that wars are won
long before they have begun.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
LEAF SPIRIT carved wooden relief by Candace Knapp
27 inches x 30 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
Do you ever wish the wind would take you
sailing across the early morning green
with your tender roots dangling and free?
Our children leave us.
Our parents are gone.
Our seeds fly out in the mouths of birds
and we never know what happens to them.
Our fruits are carried away
by little animals scampering in the night.
Some hold their dreams so tight
they cannot breathe,
others drop them along the way.
So then we finally let go
and are surprised that the wind carries us.
A kaleidoscope of colors and experiences
were just so patiently waiting
for us to relax.
Friday, March 29, 2013
REACH wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
6 inches x 13 inches x 8 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
Tired of the way your life is going?
Then reach into the shadowy pocket of fate
and pull out a new card.
It’s perfectly alright to change your mind
to change your life
to ask for something more ...
All possibilities are within your reach
Close your eyes
Lean back into the warm waters of life
and learn to float
The river of time carries you sweetly to the infinite
and all along the way you choose your song
make it true, make it real
pour yourself into music
and it will echo long after
keep nothing back
Sunday, March 17, 2013
TOOTS wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
29 inches x 10 inches x 8 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
When you walk in the forest
do you ever think we are looking at you?
We have been standing here together for a long time
we green ones
we drink water together
we warm ourselves in the sun
and when a sudden gust of wind
pushes us against each other ...
do you think we don’t feel that?
Do you think we don’t know when
the delicate threads of the spider web
link our branches together?
Deep underground thin root fingers
touch one another
discovering a secret family connection.
Then you come clomping along
with your loud voice and busy ways,
casting shadows, snapping pictures and
pushing us this way and that as you pass.
You will never guess what we do then?
We love you ...
we know we have the peace you need
and the sacred substance that can heal you.
We are so sorry when you walk away.
Did you ever think we might be waiting for you?
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
PIANISSIMO wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
68 inches x 19 inches x 16 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
a soft familiar hum
the steady gaze of a distant star
the purity at the center of the heart
sincerity is a silent thunder
clear and clean like deep well water
my heart goes out to the suffering
of my dear friends
there are no words of comfort
there is only the fine silvery note
of the flute
a warm human breath
that winds its way into the broken places
and stops the bleeding
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
BIRDBATH wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
24 inches x 24 inches x 13 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
I’m very careful stepping into this water.
I turn my head and look for hawks.
I listen for dangerous sounds
rustling in the bushes.
This is a vulnerable moment.
I slide watchfully into my sixty fifth year of life.
So this is what it feels like!
The water slips beneath my feathers
and I shimmy a little...
It feels pretty good.
I crouch down and let it roll over my back,
slip around my neck and then
I dunk my head right in
and start flapping and wiggling.
I step around in a flamboyant dance
forgetting about danger
forgetting everything that was holding me back...
OH I am so alive now and so clean
There is a freshness that makes this birthday
a whole new beginning!
Monday, February 18, 2013
UNDERCURRENT acrylic on canvas by Candace Knapp
60 inches x 44 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
Remember the house on Baker Street
that slid so far out of reach
that long night in October?
There were some strange moments in our childhood
... funny how the memories drift,
bump into one another out in the back yard
where we were camping under the old army blanket.
I remember how cold we were
and the sudden appearance of a neighbor’s cat,
eyes like fireflies appearing ... disappearing
strange night sounds ... creeping ... rustling..
little cloud girls playing soccer with the moon
while heavy branches bent and creaked overhead.
Mom and Dad were safe in their cosy bed
deep beneath the covers of night
dreaming and waking
their hearts watching over us.
Now these forty years have passed
and they are still there...
Love never changes.
Love never dies.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
50 inches x 18 inches x 14 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
Get outa my way!
I’m goin to the right
I’m goin to the left
Had some hiberdy jiberdy reasons to run after you
but then I forgot
my head got all wobbly and I started to
and the bounce
the bounce was about to kill me
all flyuppance and wonder
bleary eyed and following who?
So I just sat down in a pile
all movements died down
quiet like I realized
I’ve got nothing but the sound of my own voice
so I said it again
I said it R e a l L o u d
And you know what?
I felt better.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
PUDDLE JUMP wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
20 inches x 14 inches x 11 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
early morning chill
long walk down a wet sidewalk
puddles from the rain last night
feet and breath in rhythm
city waking up
slow and constant movement
suddenly ... SPLASH
what a beautiful shape !
my eye snaps a picture for my mind
and it is gone
it exists and then it doesn’t
Does it matter how long a life lasts
if it was beautiful
and someone noticed?
Sunday, January 27, 2013
TRAVELING MOM wood mobile by Candace Knapp
8 inches x 25 inches x 8 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
Don’t get me wrong.
I love my family.
It’s just that there are places I need to go
and things I need to do.
The sky is a vast blue ocean
that pulls me out of myself.
I can’t be small anymore
I have to do it...
to sail these airy currents
to drink the sun
to find what has been waiting for me
since the beginning of time.
But it’s ok.
I am a big ship now.
I can take you with me
close your eyes.
Can you feel yourself lifted,
just a little?
We go where light has no horizon
where thoughts turn into music
and our long cherished dreams
meet us face to face
give a little kiss
and dissolve into laughter.
What was I thinking?
I can’t be small anymore.
There are places I need to go
and things I need to do.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
26 inches x 14 inches x 10 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
I crawled out and spread my leaves last week.
It felt so good.
I could just feel my fruit ripening
on those long sunny afternoons.
I stay in my spot.
The wind passes by,
the night slides over me,
the rains come and go.
I am just here contemplating my fate
The sun is my everything.
I turn my leaves to face it,
stretch for it,
wait for it to appear
and cherish it’s warmth.
One question burns inside of me.
Does the sun see me?
Does it even know that I am here?
I think about this all the time.
Last night I heard something
I think the stars were whispering
something about me.
Maybe I am getting closer
to the answer.
Monday, January 14, 2013
HEY LITTLE GIRL Drawing by Candace Knapp
27 inches x 35 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
HEY LITTLE GIRL
I can make you feel real good for a moment, or two.
Isn’t that all that matters ?
I’ll give you a rush you will never forget !
That mom in the corner
don’t look at her,
she’ll hold you back.
What does she know?
“Do what you wanna do, go where you wanna go
with whomever you wanna to do, do it with...”
Whose your daddy now?
You can have it all !
I own you.
Do NOT listen !
Didn’t I tell you ?
Do not listen to the silver flute
ringing in your heart
singing a lone sweet silvery song
curling and whirling into space
reaching for the stars
caressing all your fondest hopes and dreams
as they drift silently on the evening breeze.
DO NOT !!!!
I can make you feel real good
for a moment or two.
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.
Monday, November 19, 2012
MIGRATION wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
16 inches x 10 inches x 9 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
I guess you’ve heard of dung beetles
pushing those brown balls up a hill,
there are a lot of stories...
well that’s not me at all.
I am on the move though.
I’m migrating and I love it!
This is the good life
out on the road with the sun in my face and the wind at my back...
Some creatures go South this time of year
when flowers close up and an icy wind threatens.
They call this time “the holidays.”
I follow my instinct creeping into the sad and lonely places:
the little shadow below the eye,
the corner of the mouth,
the lump in the throat...
I set up camp anchoring my legs and stretching up to my full height.
Gradually, petal by petal I open my magnificent flower.
I am virtually invisible but when I release my perfume
the breath comes easy,
the heart relaxes
and the music starts to play!
Can you hear it now?
Saturday, November 10, 2012
COOL BREEZE acrylic on wood panel by Candace Knapp
34 inches x 34 inches x 1 ½ inches Photo Bjorn Andren
“I must have just dozed off,” thought Clare as the cool breeze touched her neck.
The sun was warm on her chest but there was a hint of November in the air.
“I wonder how long I was asleep?,” she asked herself as she looked down for her watch.
The yellow cat on the porch swing next to her lifted his head lazily.
“Oh that’s right, I lost it on the beach yesterday
when Georgia and I took that walk after the bridge game.
That little gold watch meant a lot. Bill gave it to me on our fiftieth anniversary.
It’s my own fault. I knew the clasp was worn. So many things fall away these days
but I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I’m one of the lucky ones. I’ve got my health
and how many people from Danville, Illinois get to live in Englewood, Florida?”
Clare looked out at the sea grapes, the palm trees and caught a glimpse of the gulf
just beyond the houses across the street. Her neighbor, Joe, passed by on his bicycle.
“I’ve been planted here,” she thought. “Just like those tulip bulbs we dug up and replanted when we moved to the house on Wilson Street. They did fine.
I am doing fine too.”
Just then a sand hill crane walked right up to her porch and looked at her,
poked around a little in the grass and then wandered off.
Mr. Anderson next door started playing his Hammond organ.
He was pretty good but he played the same songs from Sound of Music over and over.
Clare started to hum along in spite of herself.
A little smile crossed her face.
“WOMAN, WAKE UP ! “ Bill’s voice was harsh and loud.
“Get in there and make my lunch!
After that your gonna have to shovel the walk,
it’s snowing again and my back is bad today.
What’s wrong with you?
You still daydreaming about Florida?
It’s never gonna happen.”
Clare didn’t tell him.
She already lives there.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
BRUCE wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
74 inches x 15 inches x 15 inches, Photo Bjorn Andren
This morning when first light sliced the horizon
and distant hills were covered in white mist,
my own heart spoke to me,
and so I found the familiar trail, forest in shades of hazy green,
sound of my own feet on wet leaves, spider webs white with due.
On I went to the clearing where I was born.
Here the ancients stretch their heavy arms to the sky
and peace hangs in the air like a perfume.
The call of a lone crow pierced the silence.
I waited for the sun to come and warm my back,
ate a few tender green leaves and tart purple berries.
Two squirrels chased each other round my feet,
a lizard ran up a tree and the bird call symphony began.
There were soooo many tasty things to eat !
I was just nosing through the leaves for some mushrooms,
bees humming around my head,
when I felt something smooth and hard just beneath the surface.
I pulled it up with my teeth.
It was a long white bone, from a leg I guess.
In fact, it was about the size of my leg bone.
Now my kind , we are herd animals. We are not meant to live alone as I do.
Just then I was feeling a little sorry for myself and this bone came up as an answer.
It must have belonged to one of my ancestors.
It was comforting, sounds strange I know.
Anyway, I started thinking about the majestic Mother Nature
who is taking such good care of me.
I think it is because I call her “mom”.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
THE RED VIOLIN, wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
28 inches x 14 inches x 14 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
THE RED VIOLIN
Did you like the Rachmaninoff last night?
I thought we did a pretty good job.
It was exhausting though
that’s why I’m sitting on this pillow
my back hurts
You know I lead a pretty quiet life
spend a lot of time practicing
the only wild ride I had this week was Rocky II
( it was Rachmaninoff’s second symphony
but we who are in the business have our pet names)
It is thrilling when we join our voices together
and I am alive, vibrating, creating subtle nuances, little rivulets of notes.
At times the romance overtakes us and we embrace the audience with waves of sound.
We ride the music all the way to the finale.
I need to know that you heard me. I need to know that you liked it.
I have an embarrassing secret, a recurring daydream.
It is a cool evening.
I am on the front porch of a wood frame house in the mountains of Tennessee.
I am in the hands of an old man with long greasy hair
and he is playing fiddle music on me.
He stomps his foot. His shoes smell like pigs.
His wife is dancing all by herself out in the grass.
The full moon is shining through the trees.
His two sons are whirling and laughing with their girlfriends .
We go on like this until the sun comes up
and I’m not tired at all.
Please don’t tell anyone about this.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
THE MISCHIEF MAKERS acrylic on wood panel by Candace Knapp
15 inches x 11 inches x 1 ½ inches Photo Bjorn Andren
THE MISCHIEF MAKERS
What a night !
Fred, George, Bob and I,
we went to that big party in the woods.
You know the one with the huge bonfire?
I almost can’t walk. I think I danced my ass off.
Nope ... It’s still there.
I need coffee, lots of coffee my ears are still ringing.
That music was so loud it woke the bears
and I don’t mean the real bears
I mean the ghosts of the bears, the old ones that protect the park.
I could feel them breathing down my neck.
They wanted us to leave.
They knew something
and as night grew into morning I felt it too.
There was danger,
the slice of a claw, the swift arm of the cat.
Pain was seeping into our lives
yet we danced
and mischief was afoot.
Fred stole a pumpkin,
I peed on Rosemary’s feet while she was sleeping
George and Bob took off all their clothes and jumped in the river.
little bits of innocent fun
the monkey was the last thing I remember just before I fell asleep.
If you want to know what really happened
you can ask the puppy.
He sees all, knows all and his heart is true.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
THE FLIER wood mobile by Candace Knapp
10 inches x 11 inches x 11 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
I am small
It doesn’t matter
so small, in fact, that you probably wouldn’t notice me
if I were floating in your tea
too small to care about
but I am NOT in your tea.
I am here on this earth just as surely as you are
AND I can fly
but short distances are long to me
my wings get tired
that is how I found myself here in Indiana
leaves changing to yellow and red
I flew around an apple tree
and then down to this little creek.
I found a fine cupped leaf like a boat
lay at the bottom of it
and floated through a lazy October afternoon
sky peaking out between the branches overhead.
is your life this good?
Mine gets even better.
I learned to relax completely.
For a little while I stopped worrying about being eaten
just listened to my tiny heartbeat.
Know what I heard?
The Drums of Africa
all the way from the other side of the earth!
It’s amazing what you can know if you just let go
for a moment...
Are you worried about being eaten?
You may as well just float
and carefully taste your own life
it will happen either way.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
MORNING SONG acrylic on canvas by Candace Knapp
13 inches x 13 inches x 1 ½ inches Photo Bjorn Andren
Don’t you know
that today is special?
This clear blue morning calls your name.
These orange trees, this fertile earth
are speaking to you alone.
I have come from afar to tell you,
crossed the tundra harsh and cold,
burned in the desert wild,
stretched across never ending seas
and the whole journey I was singing,
singing a little song
a little sea shanty
where the verses kept repeating
like waves never ending
rhyming and coming around
again and again
telling you who you are,
remembering you to yourself.
Don’t you know
that every moment
is the only moment,
is the only One
and each breath is the miracle
we have all been waiting for?
Sunday, September 30, 2012
JOURNEY Drawing by Candace Knapp
27 inches x 35 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
Awakening this morning
to a world upside down
I continue my journey
Root ball wrapped for transport
all methods of earthly travel in doubt
relying on my own feet
I continue my journey
step by step
but my feet walk away from me
my surroundings liquid
my horse swims upside down
dissolves into mist
continuing my journey
rumbling bison in the distance
I continue my journey
a light in the forest dark
I hold it with my eyes
I remember it with my heart
I continue my journey
when everything leaves me
I remember my intention
You are my journey
You are my destination
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Clay and sand by Candace Knapp
Photo Bjorn Andren
Humans, you have been brought here for a reason.
Buried in the sand and made to listen
There is something that we dogs can teach you,
something you need to know.
Lift your nose and sniff the wind
it holds the breath of all who have gone before
their thoughts, what they had for dinner
So much to experience in this world
and you could easily miss it all!
I run to greet the sensations
I chase time like a rabbit
There you are running in your tight little exercise shorts
in careful straight lines
with those wires stuck in your ears.
That’s not running!
You must run with your whole heart
toes digging into the ground
mouth open, ears perked, legs stretching to the limit
ready to change direction when destiny calls.
Live in a way that makes your heart pound
and your mouth salivate.
Wake up humans !
Get your nose out of the cell phone
and lick someone’s face.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
SEDUCTION acrylic on canvas by Candace Knapp,
13 inches x 13 inches x 1 ½ inches Photo Bjorn Andren
It was thinner than I had thought, this shell,
Thin like a soap bubble but cloudy and brittle.
I could sense shadows
I could hear muffled voices
there was often the warm sensation of beings passing nearby
and I was content for a long time, a round person in a round place
but something made me just want to
tap on the wall once or twice with my beak.
it was curiosity, an itch than needed to be scratched
and I thought,
“A tiny hole is no big deal. I will just peak outside one time
and that will be enough.”
Of course it wasn’t enough.
I started nibbling on the edge of that hole.
One day I stuck my whole head out.
There were beautiful colors, plants waved in the wind
and faces looked right into mine with their big staring eyes!
I wanted to hide
but curiosity pulled me out and I forgot that I was afraid.
I wanted to know about all these creatures:
What do their voices sound like?
What do they eat for breakfast?
Where do they live?
What do they think of me? What do they feel?
Is there any love out here?
Yes, there was!
I came out.
I was seduced by love.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
INTUITION wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
27 inches x 19 inches x 12 inches Photo Candace Knapp
Through long treks across frozen fields
through rocky slopes on stormy nights
through agonizing heat and piercing wind
we have been together.
All these years
you have been my only companion
we move forward
dedicated to the journey.
There are moments when the wind shifts
leafy shadows move across our path
I relax onto your back
opening my hands to let you lead
my legs melting into you
becoming your legs
Your feet whispering to the earth below
trusting that the destination is already here
rooted in the moment
I trust my intuition
the journey is an illusion
there is no where else to go.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
CUPIE wood mobile by Candace Knapp
6 inches x 11 inches x 11 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
you can tell that I’m a city girl,
I mean, I have a certain style you don’t find anywhere else
but last night I flew out to the salt marsh
by the light of the blue moon,
cool breeze under my wings,
salt grass stretching out to sea,
gulf waters seeping in between the mangrove roots,
firefly fiddler crabs in little round holes in the mud,
dark mysterious shadows, dense, silent...
I waited all night to see what would happen.
Then ever so slowly
grey sky shifts to pale blue
Mangroves from grey to chartreuse to rich green
Gulf waters at the horizon sparkle silver
and then cerulean blue
distant birds roam the sky
overhead an osprey soars then disappears
below pink roseate spoonbills sift the waters.
These are real birds
this is how it’s supposed to be.
Flying back to cement buildings
stopping outside your window
I tell you everything
wondering, “Can you hear me?
Can you even imagine?”
Saturday, August 25, 2012
DRIFT acrylic on wood panel by Candace Knapp
22 inches x 22 inches x 1 ½ inches Photo Bjorn Andren
Beware the blue malaise,
the water element that lulls with ebb and flow.
Fingers of doubt caress and pull.
Am I good enough?
Should I even try?
Is it worth the trouble?
Am I too old now?
...into a hole in the sea
where the sun cannot reach.
in the stillness
this darkest indigo blue
the wish appears
the spark of desire
the other sun
the inner fire
Saturday, August 18, 2012
PICNIC acrylic on canvas by Candace Knapp
17 inches x 21 inches x 1 ½ inches Photo Bjorn Andren
It was a lovely day
naked mountains blue and hazy in the distance
and lord knows I hadn’t had a vacation in years
life had enclosed me in a small cardboard box
until my body grew old and stiff
I wasn’t ready for that yet
always wanted to go out West
drove for two days across Texas
on peanut butter sandwiches and Dr Peppers
serenaded by Willie Nelson and the Dixie Chicks
It was a dream come true
a vision quest
a journey I made by stopping
by the side of the road
sky so big I started to fall into it
had to close my eyes to find myself
car door open to a slight breeze
sun so warm I drifted into sleep
It was probably the heat but here I was
in a world all pink and cosy
a large bird was calling my name
leaves floated by
I was being watched by benevolent forces
orange sun stared at me
I was a bubble of moisture on the hot desert floor
Is this the place the shamans talk about?
Something yellow and pleased came out from me
and I let it
Saturday, August 11, 2012
RALPH wood mobile by Candace Knapp
6 inches X 17 inches X 14 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
One thing you should know about me.
I like a good cigar
I mean a real Cuban cigar
I like to fly over to Ybor City on a Friday evening
when the fat cats and bankers are sitting outside at a sidewalk café
smoking Cubans and drinking rum.
I just go from one to the other getting whiffs of the good stuff.
Like, I’m small, they don’t notice me
but I tell you the flavor is intense.
There is a kind of cherry/cognac aftertaste
that stays with you for a long time
It’s on to the Cuban bakery on 15th street
to where the exhaust fan pours out those yeasty crusty flavors !
It’s heaven on earth !
I tell you,
I know how to have the good life !
Of course I had a great start.
I was born at the stables where the police horses stay.
It was a veritable symphony of smells and tastes.
Not everyone is so lucky.
I developed a discriminating nose at an early age.
We often went to Busch Gardens as a family.
That’s where you find the really exotic smells;
flamingos, iguanas, hyenas and meerkats.
Of course, there is nothing like a rhinoceros!
I feel an uneasy kinship, actually.
I mean, it’s like we are all one
and yet our smells are different.
I find that profound,
Saturday, August 4, 2012
graphite and pastel on prepared wood by Candace Knapp
80 inches x 44 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
I was just standing here
I didn’t do anything wrong
the bird can tell you
she saw the whole thing
there was this sound
a kind of piercing icy blue wail
that shook us to the bone
and then the catchers came out
scooting around thither and yon
looking for someone who is guilty
someone is hurting
someone must be guilty
that’s what they think
but the truth is
we all droop our leaves in silent commiseration
it flows through our veins
when one is in pain we are all in pain
when one is dancing
we are all dancing
Saturday, July 28, 2012
BUTTERBIRD wood mobile by Candace Knapp
22 inches x 9inches x 7 inches Photo Bjorn Andren
Sometimes a lady can have a little wiggle.
It’s actually quite charming, don’t you think?
And when a lady, I mean a very well bred
only slightly elderly and extremely charming lady,
a real lady,
has a wiggle,
she most always has a plump butt.
I mean to say a derriere.
A derriere with dignity that can slide
ever so gently to the left and to the right
when she walks
or in my case “floats”
for I am a Butterbird.
I float ever so gently through the air
with an almost imperceptible flutter of wings
and I make a sound like a faint sigh.
There is the odor of fresh lipstick just before I disappear
into your imagination.
You begin to wonder if I was ever there at all
Maybe it was a dream?
Still the little swaying to the left and to the right,
it will stay with you
It will haunt you
and sometimes you will look over your left shoulder suddenly
to catch a glimpse.
I tell you, “A real lady is hard to find in this world.
A real lady is a gift from God.”
Saturday, July 21, 2012
THE BEAUTIFUL ONE acrylic on canvas by Candace Knapp
13 inches x 13 inches x 1 ½ inches $ 500. Photo Bjorn Andren
THE BEAUTIFUL ONE
Passing through a darkening forest
Earth wet and cold under my feet
Night closing in on me
Just then I see her
I love her from the very first moment
Is she looking this way?
Does she see me?
How long have I been standing here
with my heart in my mouth?
I am frozen in time
and she hovers before me in the light,
the light that warms my chest,
the light that makes me believe
life will soon be good again.
She flickers on and off like a firefly.
If I close my eyes will she disappear?
My mind is so fixed on her
that I am almost afraid to breathe
but when I breathe I drink her beauty
with my eyes
until I finally realize
she is only a reflection
of "The Beautiful One”
living in secret in the heart of my heart.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
GREEN MEADOW acrylic on wood panel by Candace Knapp
15 inches x 11 inches x 1 ½ inches $ 600. Photo Bjorn Andren
Can we ever be gentle enough?
When a thoughtless word starts a river of blood
deep beneath the surface,
we ache for the green meadow
for the healing hands of plants
the cool misty breath of filtered light
the smell of wood and earth
There really is a safe place
where happy yellow birds drift like clouds
and tenderness surrounds like a persistent melody.
All of us open like flowers
in the presence of kindness.
Can we ever be gentle enough?
Sunday, July 8, 2012
LOUISE wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
38 inches x 18 inches x 14 inches $ 4200. Photo Bjorn Andren
There is something really wonderful inside of me
I am standing very still,
concentrating and listening.
She’s not ready to come out yet but I know she is there
So I wait.
Clouds drift across the sky.
Day turns into night and then day again.
People whiz by in their cars.
Insects meander through the tall grass on their tiny legs.
Squirrels scamper closer then farther away.
I am so still that the birds don’t notice me anymore.
I listen to the wind.
Something is crawling on my nose but I do not move.
She is telling me her secrets.
She is coming out soon.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
OSCAR wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
26 inches x 26 inches x 14 inches $3400. Photo Bjorn Andren
so I have a little waddle when I walk.
It’s part of my “style”,
in fact you could say that I have a “swagger”
maybe even a “swish”.
It’s not just because I have short legs
and a magnificent shell swaying on my back.
It’s because I know who I am.
It wasn’t always this way.
People used to look down on me
and not just because I am close to the ground.
People would pass by and see me there on the sidewalk.
They wouldn’t step on me but they wouldn’t look at me either.
I was just something to be avoided,
They would keep on talking to each other
laughing as if I didn’t exist.
One day I constructed my magnificent shell.
It isn’t like anyone else's shell you can’t climb into it
but it is very special.
It is a flourish of me. It is “I AM” and I wear it with pride.
Whatever you may think of me,
I am the only one like me and you will never see another.
So what I say is this,
“waddle” is good
“swagger” is even better.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
THREE ASCENDING PALMS ( two shown here)
wood sculptures by Candace Knapp
up to 84 inches tall $4100 each Photo Bjorn Andren
THREE ASCENDING PALMS
We have been in love with the sun
for as long as I can remember,
planted years ago by a squirrel
tiny fingers digging in the sand
and then forgotten.
Just the three of us standing,
our root balls holding tight against the wind.
All Winter we wait and cherish each ray of sun.
In Spring we drop great mops of pale yellow blossoms
That turn into seeds and blow in the wind.
All Summer we bake in searing white heat
growing strong and tall.
We reach for the sun yearning to touch her shining face
and then one day it happens.
Our bodies fall to the earth
Our spirits rise.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
DOROTHY, wood sculpture by Candace Knapp
23" x 9" x 16" $2400. Photo Bjorn Andren
The name is Matilda
but Dorothy just calls me “bird”.
I don’t mind.
Most people call us “cow birds”
because we hang around with cows.
It’s not as fun as it sounds.
One day I saw Dorothy running back and forth along the fence.
She spends a lot of time in the back yard alone
because her master, Sam, works late.
She amuses herself as best she can.
I could see she was a lot more playful than a cow.
One day I just landed in the yard and waited for her to come over.
She barked and barked but I stood my ground.
I’m no squirrel.
I don’t run.
After a while she got used to me,
walked right up and gave a little sniff.
Within six weeks I was sitting on her back,
sometimes even on her head.
I guess you could call me a companion animal.
In the evening when we hear the car drive up
I jump off and she runs fast in through the doggie door.
Not me, I don’t go in there.
I see how happy she is jumping all over Sam
and he’s petting her and giving her food.
It’s all about the food if you ask me.
I can see she wants to please him
but she knows who her real friends are.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
SHY SWEETHEART acrylic on canvas by Candace Knapp
13" x 13" x 1 ½" $ 500. Photo Bjorn Andren
I’m a nice girl.
You should like me.
Is that a smile I see?
We’ve had grand times together over the years
Remember the cat?
That sound you made was like an angry screech owl.
She will never dare to come here again!
This forest is our place,
far from the noise of the village.
It is cool and green.
Being here with you is everything to me.
Remember the June bugs?
How we flipped them over on their backs and
spun them around until they were dizzy
walking away like drunk old men?
I have made us a little picnic
at the mossy place next to the river.
I have prepared nuts and berries and
those grub worms you like so much.
We have it so good.
What I fear most, dear heart,
is that you will die one day
with those words “I love you”
still caught in your throat
like some old fish bone
and I will still be waiting.