Okay, roughly a month and change ago, I kinda closed my eyes and did a slightly scary thing, asking a local artist, Sherrie York, to be "my artist" for an upcoming regional library art show. For this show, artists and writers would work together: the writer creating a haiku, and the artist creating the corresponding/matching artwork.
Now, I've had several book reviews published in a local monthly (Colorado Central), and a few essays in a quarterly based in Crestone (Desert Call), but otherwise, there's not much for me to point to regarding my writing, other than scrawled spiral notebooks. Sherrie York, however, is a "real artist." She has folks asking for her stuff, asking her to lead classes and the like. And her work is phenomenal. (Hence, folks asking for her artwork and instructionings.) Thinking of asking Sherrie to be my co-conspirator made my nervous system crackle. Nonetheless, I had little to lose in asking, just my pride, so I emailed her.
She agreed, but you already know that. What you might not know is to what degree Sherrie has taken my invitation and run with it, to stretchy and experimental places. She's teasingly blaming me for "costing me so-o-o-o much money!" Seems my haiku has nudged her to experimenting and playing around with various aspects of her printmaking: inks, mica to be included in the ink (because my haiku uses words like, "sparkly," "glistens," and the like), and even a "baby" press.
I was honored when she agreed to join me, was gladdened to hear she was playing around and having fun with her "half" of our collaboration. However, I never expected her to go this far. Yikes, what have I done, this time?