a photograph by Sonja Bingen

In my opinion this is the best book Ethel Mortenson Davis has published yet. It contains poems written during her teenage years through all the subsequent time until now. Poem after poem is a masterpiece.
Kathy Isaacson in her review of the book said: “Having long wondered who the Rumi of my generation could be, Ethel Mortenson Davis’s poetry similarly soothes and inspires me. This collection helps us contemplate our relationships with the earth while exploring other companions such as cancer, pain, war, loss of life, and starving horses. We experience healing with the smell of wild snow, sound of moss clinging to trees, sight of the moon dancing and fireflies whispering. Ethel’s poetry has accompanied me to a volcano in the New Mexican desert where it was read to the “laughing stars.” It has been recited to my classroom of wide-eyed students and currently blesses my bedside table.”
I found the book on amazon.com this morning, but not on Barnes and Noble yet. It was under Ethel Davis, not Ethel Mortenson Davis. The publisher is Kelsay Books.

Filed under Art, Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry, Published Books
a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis
Our grandson, Will Bingen, just finished making his own guitar, and here it is:

He is a brilliant guitarist and singer who has opened for bands like Kansas with his group.

Kevin Michael Davis, our son, has been gone for nine years. He took this photo while visiting us while we lived in Continental Divide, NM. We wish we could walk through these doors and see him for at least one more time.
Filed under Art, Photography
a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis
pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

Not long before our son, Kevin Davis, Alazanto, died of cancer, he traveled to Paris and did several photographs of the city. This is his photograph of Notre Dame, a memory after today’s fire. A double kind of memory for Ethel and I. He was an extraordinary web designer, photographer, artist, and poet. The burning of Notre Dame creates a hole in the spirit of our humanity.

Filed under Art, Photography, Uncategorized
by Ethel Mortenson Davis

Wind
She is the freest
of all women,
the wind.
The sound she plays
through the pinion trees
is a loud, sweeping sound,
like a great, spiny broom
cleaning away from the earth
things unnecessary.
Invisible,
yet she stirs the winter skies
to bring deep canyon snows today ̶
and then tomorrow
life-giving thunderstorms.
She makes us ask,
what is necessary?
What do we need
on our temporary trek
across the earth? Our suitcase in hand?
What is it we really want?
Only life from the wind.
Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry
poem and photograph by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Stopped
to look
at the Byzantine light
coming out of the morning sky ̶
goldleaf
burnishing the edges,
turning the deep mountains
violet.
Take my hand
before we become
common!

Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Photography, poems, Poetry