New on Substack this morning, to read and listen to: In Coming Here A love poem from my father 🙏🏻🫀
A thank you note: Thank you all so kindly, for the sweet and heartwarming birthday messages. It was a good day. My heart is full, and ready for a ‘normal’ day now, whatever this may mean 🤗🙌🏻
I woke up way too early to my 67th birthday. Feeling strange and estranged. In this time. In this world. Yet my soul-bird keeps looking at me. Looking for me. Singing me hopeful songs. Who am I to deny her? Gifts are a strange thing too these da
- - - Canvases: Visual debates of losses and gifts Endless conversations between senselessness and meaning Negotiations Temporary places of Shhhhh and protest Tantrums of tears: of despair and elation Memoirs and sweet forgetfulness Numbness and boi
A love poem on this day… 🤎🌷🤎 Existence – by Fadwa Tuqan In solitary life, I was a lost question; In the encompassing darkness, my answer was concealed. You were a bright new star radiating light from the darkness of the unknown, rev
When blood dries. That color, you know?
Somewhere, on the eastern coast of the Mediterranean Sea, beyond rubbled landscapes, beyond unnamable cloth structures and jalabiyas of lightweight cotton blowing in gusts of insanity, beyond interrupted blurry sand dunes, and beyond the loudest sile
~ Etched on a Skin One’s own languages ~ A new post this morning, to read and listen to, on orlyavineri.substack.com 🙏🏻🫀
The gift that is my friend @willemien_de_villiers . I continue to be drawn to her #subversivestitch work and also ‘subversive’, deeply caring way of being. Hanging on my wall, with roses. And at another house in CA, many years ago, agai
~ Half Lions & Dried Roses ~ Bone-tired from healing alone. Scabrous old petals. Now all laid down on the barren ground. To rest.
Perhaps all journeys, collective or solo, are love stories. Beginning and never ending. Winding and risk-worthy. Photo by @horusboris
-Just the mouth. When a child is not properly cared for, and even silenced, she might become quite self absorbed. She becomes a so called ‘Artist’ of some sort. Every expression is either a dilution or an exaggeration of a raw and t
3 times. March. July. October. 3 states. Oregon. Washington. Arizona. Exploring minimalism in Mixed Media. This year for me is about less. Less unnecessary emotional fuss. Less harshness. Less noise. Less redundant thought forms and loops. Le
Pan de mi corazón- ‘Bread of my heart’ Image taken from the street in Oaxaca. *** Everything is waiting for you —David Whyte The great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life were a progressive and cun
We are a nation that if not glorifies, then encourages, extreme avoidance and gross neglect of one another. We are meticulously arranged, as if on a child’s plate. Set next to one another in proximity. Yet making sure ‘we don’t to
New to read and listen to this morning on orlyavineri.substack.com What to Do with a Body? Thoughts following a photo session with my friend Diane D’Andrea @horusboris
An image transfer on tin, as taught by @leighannalight ***** And something else entirely: “Suppose a white man should come to me and say, “Joseph, I like your horses. I want to buy them.” I say to him, “No, my horses suit me
I have a sweet daughter who when we meet asks if she could take pictures of me, her eldering mama. I say, Okay, and smile inside my heart. Then I smile for her.
I am so excited about this new theme. Space is limited. Link in bio. orlyavineri.com Transferring Word + Image Introducing poetry to mixed-media April 16-19, 2026  Salem, Oregon Images and words meet in this 4-day workshop. I’ve always