top of page
inkoflight.net
WELCOME TO MY BLOG !
Reflections on life through
Interpretive Photography, Video, & Poetry
Gwyn Henry 1974
Age 30. Mother of 3. Wife of 1.
Ballet Instructor. Enjoys sketching, playing folk guitar, singing, composing songs, writing poems, dreaming, drinking wine.
Dreams of travel. Drinks wine. Dreams of being famous. Drinks wine. Dreams of bright colors. Drinks wine. Dreams of somewhere else. Stops drinking wine. Stops dreaming.
Gets a divorce.. Gets a bachelor's degree. Gets married again. Has a baby. Moves to California. Takes baby. Takes husband. Starts dreaming again. Drinks. Wine. Again.
Gives Poetry Readings. Performs at open Mic music nights. Runs at Edge...Of. Surf.
Her child rolls. In the sand. She renanes her our "sugar doughnut”. Lies in bed. Listening to sounds. Of surf. Gets up. In the. Morning. Six years. Have passed. Then. When rent. Soars. Moves from beach. Cries. To hot dry inland place. Dances there in accidentally exceptional center for the arts. Makes experimental art films of dancers. Creates. A dance ensemble.
Gets featured in San Francisco dance blog. Gets featired in Zen Arts blog. Gets featured in local newspaper. Hangs her art in gallery. Installs her video art in in Art Festivals. Screens them in gallery film nights. & on TeeVee.
Takes & picks up daughter at school every day. For 8 yrs. Home schools her for 3 yrs. Almost gets a divorce but doesn't. Goes woo woo. Black Dog moves in then out in then out. Drinks wine. Starts dreaming again.
Notices aging. (Her own.) Her Mother dies. Drinks wine. Ages more. Writes a novel. Black Dog hangs around more. Ages. Nightmares. Wine. Does not get out of bed. Sometimes. Everything turns gray. Covid. Arrives. Stops drinking wine. Almost goes crazy. But doesn't. Stays in bed more. Isolation. Brother dies. She almost dies. Because of this. But doesn't. Best friend dies on vacation in Holland. Ages. Ex-husband dies. Dreams. Their entire life together. In one night. None of the bad. Only the good. Peace. Sadness. Loss.
Six wks later. Her cousin dies. She remembers making popcorn. With her. When they were. Children. In a skillet. Without a lid. Their. Laughter. Their. Innocence.. Who but us. Remembers this. Doesn't believe she can contain. All. This. Loss. Cries. In just one body. Curls up in ball. In her bed. Cries. Black Dog at her foot. Isolated. Alienated. Dreams of moving. Can't afford to. Cries. Because of Covid. Loss.
Government sends. Money. Not enough to move. But a seed. Because ex-husband died. Government. Increases social security. More than. Double. She puts it with. Covid money. Moving money. Quarantine. Isolation. Nowhere to go. Seed money. Grows. By December. Moves back to beach. Takes Husband. Baby daughter is 700 miles away by now. Living her life. Red-headed daughter. Grandchildren. Up the block.
Awoke this morning. Climbs down. The stairs. He making. Coffee. Back turned. Throws arms. Around him. May I. Kiss your back. Good morning? Waits not for answer. Does.
After that. Writes poetry. Plays her guitar. Sings. Records a song. About moving from Oklahoma. To California. Sits in the sun. Writes. Talks on the phone. To. Another daughter. In Albuquerque.
Dreams. Yes. At the Beach. Yes. Black Dogs. No. Sits. In the Sun. Drinks wine. No. Almost never. Anymore.
Heading 3
Heading 3
Heading 3
bottom of page