December Circle

by Tina Colon

by Marilyn de Guehery

by Tracie Cheng

By Manirah Agans

By Tracie Cheng

by Marilyn de Guehery

By Shin Maeng

by Tina Colon

by Shin Maeng

November Circle

words by Alysia Harris, composed & performed by Tina Colon

by Crystal Huang

from "Still" by Alysia Harris

by E. Marshman with inspiration from AG and Love146

She examined me like a burnt out bulb, but held me like a lantern. 'It's not your fault.'

Every new day in this place, they whisper love into my bruises.

My spine has become a staircase -- for words of light to climb like octaves.

Did you know heartbeats still live under my palms?

I found that out when she squeezed my hand so hard I could feel our pulses beat together.

And when his inky letters climb to the tops of buildings to shout only ugly through me-

her whispers carry echoes back on the wind. 'Beauty, beauty, you have always been beauty.'

by Crystal Huang & Marilyn de Guehery

Inspired By Beach Girl

by Manirah Agans

"I've been trying," he said.

Startled at the fluid voice,

I jerked my eyes up

passed my warm, gritty feet,

following up to the tip

of my shadow.

"Trying what?" I gasped,

not because he was a tree

talking, but trying.

But then I saw...

Roots dragging along behind

as he seemingly crawled

forward

leaned forward

pulled forward toward the cast sea

the vast freedom I had...

freedom.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

Head lowered

Still guilty, I left him there,

One step,

one soft, seperate, step at a time.

by Shin Maeng

by Manirah Agans

Artist Circle: 10.3.11

By Michelle Ho

By Tracie Cheng

By Marilyn de Guehery

By Juliet Buesing with input from other hands in the circle

...and Chai Ice Cream, by Jesus

Songwriters Circle

This Sunday, 1/23/11

7:00PM

532 Norton Parkway

If you are in any way a worship leader or a songwriter, whether you have written a couple of lines or recorded an album, you are invited to come join together with other songwriters and potential songwriters after service this Sunday to share musical ideas and create songs for worship. At 7, we'll be gathering at 532 Norton (there will be guitar(s) and piano(s) available) as a songwriters circle, which will hopefully be a non-intimidating space to develop music that we could use for communal worship at ECV and elsewhere. Bring a song you have been working on and would be willing to share-- it doesn't matter how complete or incomplete it is, we can work on it. There may be cookies. :)

Fruit of the Circle...

To Fight is to Stand

(watercolor... possibly unfinished, by Juliet Buesing)

Based on a song by Tina Colón 

(which was based on a poem by Alysia, which was based on a photo by Marilyn...)

Trunk(ish) Desires

by Marilyn de Guehery

based on a story/essay by Levi Gill

The Last Artist Circle Meeting of the Year

The Last Artist Circle Meeting of the Year

This Friday (December 17) at 7:00 pm at 546 Chapel St.

The Elm City Artist Circle is a place of gathering for any and everyone who creates (or desires to create) art. Any kind of art--visual, written, graphic, musical, anywhere in between--at any level.

If you fall into that category, and will be around on the evening of the 17th, you are invited to join for the last meeting of 2010. Bring a piece of art that you have created, and be willing to share--we'll be swapping pieces and creating based on what we've chosen. (It may sound intimidating, but it doesn't have to be.)

If you have nothing you want to share, still come! You can create while you're there. No pressure to be 'phenomenal'-- we're all learning and growing here. Feel free to bring your artistically inclined friends along with you.

Hope to see you there.

A Sample!

Endocarp

Marilyn De Guehery

Inspired by the poem of the same name, by Alysia Harris

At Artist's Circle last week, we created art based off each other's artworks. We wanted to send out one example:

Marilyn created a graphic design piece inspired by Alysia's poem, Endocarp (below).

ENDOCARP

It opens, like thunder
blooming

The feeling that I can’t
do this.

That the walls of my room
were made of Eden

And the trees began the
sin of autumn

In June.

My mother buys me fruit
whenever she comes to visit

Somehow, without fail, I
forget to eat

Smelling it go rotten

In a cheap silver bowl

Next to the set of cutting
knives.

What’s precious-

A pair of fine winter
gloves

In thunderhead grey?

Or an orange grove of
friends?

Four years, the citrus,

Still bleeding into
November.

On days the sky turns to
soft steel,

I watch umbrellas open,

Those first-responders,
hesitant shields.

They understand the risk
involved, how rain can palpate

Even the tiniest wounds.

Sit for a week and study

A pear’s skin purse neat green
bruises,

One after the other.

Like an old lady turning
Into a very small pea.

We learn to live our
separate lives,

Knives placed at opposite
ends of a table.

In the aging silence,

Trying not to attract attention.

This etiquette too, a
sin.