Absinthe

Liquor is on the easel, though thankfully not spilled. Outside, winter wind thrashes and glides like a ballerina, while trees are pushed into a waltz by heavy rain; a perfect backdrop for a short piece on something warmer: Absinthe.

Who doesn't like lager, wine or champagne? Or maybe some combination of all? One does not have to be a fussy debutante or a jaded queen to enjoy such delights. In spite of not being someone versed in the art of drinking, I do have my preferences. Absinthe. I prefer Absinthe. I have been asked if I consume alcohol when painting; a question reeking of phantasy. No, I don't consume alcohol when painting because if I did I would not be able to complete the painting or focus. I would be much to busy giggling and fucking up something. If consuming, I prefer moderation. Given the potency of Absinthe, this is a wise approach. Though I do feel somewhat hypocritical saying this, given that my first experience of consuming this magical drink was one of impulse; I poured myself a glass of roughly five ounces and savored every drop. 

I remember it vividly. As I poured from the bottle, the color was a robust and exotic green that reminds me now of the northern lights. It flowed lightly into my glass, reflecting onto the table. It was Summer. The air was still and there was no wind, only heat. After consuming my glass, I walked outside into the warm air, as the distinct taste of aniseed coated my throat. With each step, I felt noise and control slip away, replaced by a giddy sensation of blissful numbness. Care slowly fell away and so too did the static of a racing mind. As I walked deeper into the countryside, wide space opened up and ocean skies that went on forever greeted me; an alien roaming the fields trying to find her way through the intoxicating mist of a pleasant green venom. It felt as though the bright and glowy sunshine was calling me to explore this new world, only found through the door of the green muse. The sun was hot but I didn't care, it tanned me darker than usual but I laughed out loud and the earth laughed back, through the hushed rays of an unblinking sun.Was it hallucination or was it how things always are? How can one be sure either way? The land became a masterful host awaiting the crunching of my footsteps. I was warm and dancing on sunshine. I wasn't sure what exactly was occurring completely but invited it, feeling only the soft and gentle touch of Absinthe's intoxicating embrace. It was from this experience that the intention of painting Absinthe took shape. 

'Shape of Madness' by Cierra G. Rowe

 

This painting is a kind of study. — Though I would argue that madness itself can't actually be studied. I think that it is within human capacity to assume that everything can be studied, with the intention of claiming a breakthrough of some sort. Anyone can claim to be an expert in any or all things under the sun. In the age of digital output, anyone can type a few words on a screen and claim knowledge from a computer's programmed chain of answers. Anyone can order a book, read a few pages or highlight text and claim expertise. But until you become your topic of study, your pseudoknowledge and faux expertise is, on many levels, nil (atleast where madness is concerned). To truly know madness is to be mad; something that no sane person would ever want. Something that escapes the glamour glow of being romantic and eludes the surface lore crafted by bored humans. A person may study ''madness'' from an academic standpoint. Books containing case studies and psychiatric research will lend only so many answers. But the true nature of madness will linger out of touch. Unless of course the ''student'' is mad. But I assume that few would admit to such a thing. — Nevertheless this is my study through painting and partial writing. Again, one could say that even with my efforts, madness cannot be contained by mere alphabets or tidy sentences. What lingers beyond words and acts as its own explanation? I would say painting. I'm biased because I'm a painter but I feel that a visual has a special ability to speak deeper to the senses. Precisely because it lingers beyond the clutch of words, I also feel that madness can certainly be captured through brushstrokes. To paint about it, one must know what it is to have felt its penetrating and merciless shaking of all, rearranging that which was into something that reflects that which is no longer. There is nothing wrong with being sheltered, unless and until you begin speaking foolish assumptions centered around topics that are foreign to you. Few things are worse, where it concerns conversation, than a person speaking only to be heard and offering nothing but repeated words - none of which are their own. Within this painting, a figure appears to cry. Not out of defeat or depression but out of emotional lassitude. Colors push against black, feeding a void that wasn't there before. Incoherence narrates accumulation, as soft tears act as threads of sanity, falling deeper into the other side of the spectrum and turning into something else. The affliction grows contagious. While not alone in the midst of chaos, it remains as its own force. There is a painting behind this painting because I painted it that way. If one looks closely there are hints of what was; forms, colors and trees all obscured now, by the shape of madness.  

'Birth of A Star' by Cierra G. Rowe

 

Earth hovers in the distance of a figure who runs with the frenzied expression of one in the pursuit of something precious or one who carries their possession with purpose. Regardless of how close or far away it may appear, the figure and what is taking place, is preserved in stillness...Or maybe all paintings come to life in the company of empty rooms or vacant museum halls. Perhaps the chaser or carrier of light runs off into the distance, away from prying eyes. Perhaps the mystery runs with it. I am very glad to have completed this painting. It is also interesting to position this, and other pieces at different angles. When positioned on it's side, it appears as though the figure is climbing light — which is interesting. 

https://www.artofcierra.com/product/birth-of-a-star-acrylic-on-canvas-panel-8x10-framed

Reading My Poetry Live With Other Poets

I​ would like to take a moment to thank Dr. Rachel Turney​, who did an incredible job of putting this together and all of the poets who gave a glimpse into their hearts, through their touching and potent words. It was a privilege to hear and see everyone read their poetry. All of the poets​ who read today are absolutely amazing​. I have found so many new people to admire.

Being given the opportunity to read the poem that I wrote​, about my grandmother​, ('Moonshine') means a great deal to me. I actually had her photo out, as I was reading. Had I looked up at her, I would have undoubtedly choked up even more than I had. But I know that she heard me. That ​p​urity of love never leaves - ​the rawness is always there. ​To share with everyone my words for her helped me in a way that I didn't know that I needed. ​Like, I don't really do this kind of thing so I feel that it allowed me to speak from a place I had not been given the opportunity to speak from, publicly. Thank you to everyone who listened to me. You may not know it but that alone, means the most. 

I feel, having considered everyone's poems, that what may be most significantly gleaned from this session of Poetry in Brief, is that no one is ever alone in their pain.​ Perhaps there is beauty in sharing that. I really am so grateful to have been part of this.

Thank you to: Rachel Turney, Samantha Terrell, Tommy Wyatt Blake, Nina Nicole Garner, Derek Thomas Dew, Caitríona Walsh and everyone who tuned in.

I began talking at the 14:12 mark but I ask that if you listen to me, please also listen to them. All of these people are amazing and it was a privilege to have shared the screen with each of them.

Reading My Poetry Live : DECEMBER 6TH.

Dr. Rachel Turney of Colorado reached out to me ​a​ week or so ago and invited me to be part of her Poetry (in Brief) series. December 6th - 11am Mountain Time, I will be reading the poem that I wrote​ about my grandmother titled 'Moonshine'. 

In Rachel's words ''Poetry (in Brief) is a poetry community focused on conversations and short readings with some of the most fabulous poets of our time! Readers are invited and scheduled in advance. Our live online readings are free and open to the public. ''

I am warmly surprised and grateful to be invited to read my poetry.  I have not read any of my poems, in public​, in many years. Am I nervous? Yes but very much grateful. For more information please visit the link https://turneytalks.wordpress.com/2025/11/23/poetry-in-brief-ii-thorns/, as Dr. Turney has posted all pertinent information pertaining to the event there. 

Youtube Link: https://www.youtube.com/@TurneyTalks

DECEMBER Art Sale

https://www.artofcierra.com/