There are over 60 works of art, poetry and prose by 50 artists and writers
in our current community exhibit about the animals we love:
Painting, 
collage,
assemblage,
tapestry,
needle-felted
sculpture,
drawing,
photography,
drypoint
and
monoprint,
poetry,
prose,
and
a
beautiful garland
of dog tags
and bells,
are just some
of the variety
of media
on exhibit.
Poignant tributes to the animals we love
attest to the deep relationships we have
with the ‘other-than-human’ among us.
And lest we forget,
our
youngest
participant,
Theo,
age 6 ¾,
has a watercolor
entitled,
Humans
Are
Animals
Too.
You Don’t Have To Take A Dog
for Zoey, in memoriam
You don’t have to take a dog when you walk at night,
but it helps. Neighbors driving by don’t have to wonder
what tragic event has occurred to you—
whether you’re trying to escape from your past
or your future; your husband, your kids, or just
the unwashed macaroni pot hardening on the counter.
People who don’t know you don’t have to waste time
wondering who you are, though they might
slow a bit, on account of your dog.
The dog is oblivious. That’s part of her charm.
She trots on ahead of you, sniffing for rabbits
you’ll never let her have. She knows
you’d spoil her chances, lose your cool
and shriek, “No!” right at the critical moment.
She loves you anyway. She’s a dog.
You, on the other hand, are inescapably human.
Even if you could bring yourself to charge into
the underbrush baying at the top of your lungs, seeking,
maybe even finding, something vast and elemental,
some scrap of insight trapped and trembling
down a badger hole, there’d still be laundry
to do when you got home.
The moon’s not full tonight but it’s smiling anyway—
a lax, sideways smile—indulging you, indulging your dog.
Cornstalks nudge one another as you pass.
All the decisions you’ve made lately,
all the tears you’ve cried or not cried,
and still this flat plain, this little piece of the world,
looks exactly the same.
The dog could have told you that.
She’s waiting for you now, having left behind
the field’s enticements to come onto the pavement
to find you. She sits, calm, watchful, wondering
how it is you can walk such a straight line
and still be so far back there.
Trish Crapo
The poem above by Trish Crapo is one of many in this exhibit. Poetry will be part of the closing reception (that includes other performances) on:
April 14, 6pm – 8pm
Performances at 7pm
View the exhibit at The Art Garden
on Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays:
1pm – 5pm
Perhaps Super Honey Bunny will be here to greet you!
This exhibit
is supported in part
by the following
Local Cultural Councils:
Ashfield,
Buckland,
Colrain,
Charlemont/Hawley,
Conway,
Heath,
Plainfield,
Rowe,
& Shelburne!
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
And thank you James Smith & Laura Iveson for taking exhibit photos for this post!
