The repetitive patterns of Lori Ellison’s intricate drawings hold great appeal. Abstract but also organic, her forms are reminiscent of a meditative hum or cellular respiration. They pull me into them as do mandalas, their geometry challenging my sense of staid proportions. They breathe beyond their flat surfaces with boundaries seemingly continuing beyond the frame.

Lori agreed to send me several of her works for me to respond in poetry. Two are posted here. Others will appear in subsequent posts.


These hands, these feet
ask nothing of a pebble
or a symmetry of petals
Flesh matters, choice not decreed
Bead with bud
sandy soil and sun
In the foreplay of breath
and impregnating looks
lie in the quiet
water of your betrothed


I am drawn
pulse plused
center centric
comingling home
with heart minded
The point is
a pointless
dazzling tug
dawning I am


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