https://visionsversesvoices.com VISIONS VERSES VOICES Sun, 06 Dec 2020 19:13:54 +0000 https://visionsversesvoices.com en https://visionsversesvoices.com/Slideshow Thu, 25 Jul 2019 02:31:21 +0000 VISIONS VERSES VOICES https://visionsversesvoices.com/Slideshow Jessica Damen Visions Verses Voices oil paintings and audio installation https://visionsversesvoices.com/Featured-Projects Thu, 25 Jul 2019 02:31:22 +0000 VISIONS VERSES VOICES https://visionsversesvoices.com/Featured-Projects ABOUT&nbsp; &nbsp;/&nbsp; &nbsp;INDEX&nbsp; &nbsp; / &nbsp; SHOP &nbsp; / &nbsp; VIEW ALL Say Cheese50 x 58” oil on canvas, 2000 <img width="2597" height="3011" width_o="2597" height_o="3011" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/0cb2941c8fec96cb10a3a552f33eea31cd6328fd2aa06d59e01da11e8049d3d5/8_SayCheese_58x50_OC.jpg" data-mid="47304225" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/0cb2941c8fec96cb10a3a552f33eea31cd6328fd2aa06d59e01da11e8049d3d5/8_SayCheese_58x50_OC.jpg" /> Jo, Jon, Floating on Jonah’s Whale38 x 60”oil on canvas, 2003 &amp; 2014 <img width="2160" height="1347" width_o="2160" height_o="1347" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/bff259dbf4ccef11de7f6d13ae165860e8e4a330a138270ca8f59c6c0ff4ab64/4_JoJonJonahsWhale_38x60_OC_03_14_trimmed.jpg" data-mid="47342953" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/bff259dbf4ccef11de7f6d13ae165860e8e4a330a138270ca8f59c6c0ff4ab64/4_JoJonJonahsWhale_38x60_OC_03_14_trimmed.jpg" /> Granny, Granny, Your Garden is Running Away81 x 12”oil on canvas, 2018 <img width="980" height="2171" width_o="980" height_o="2171" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/077e89bd3e037686d3e7849c8a5deebfa115fd97e62a14fc2e8d14899002a002/18_Granny--Granny-YourGardenIsRunningAway_81x12_OC_2017_reduced_crop.jpg" data-mid="47343796" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/980/i/077e89bd3e037686d3e7849c8a5deebfa115fd97e62a14fc2e8d14899002a002/18_Granny--Granny-YourGardenIsRunningAway_81x12_OC_2017_reduced_crop.jpg" /> VIEW ALL ︎ https://visionsversesvoices.com/Text Thu, 25 Jul 2019 02:31:22 +0000 VISIONS VERSES VOICES https://visionsversesvoices.com/Text “Oh Heart, Here Is Your Healing”&nbsp; Invitational Exhibition April 3 - May 20, @ Greenbelt Community Center Art Gallery www.greenbeltmd.gov/arts Exhibited at: The Delaplaine Arts Center December 7 – 29 2019 www.delaplaine.org ︎&nbsp;︎ Poetry By: Maj Ragain Janet Lewis Wilfred Owen Tim Joyce Paula Meehan Michael Salcman, MD Audio and Technical Assistance: Lindsay BottosJessica Damen 3500 Parkdale Ave Bld 1, Suite 24 Baltimore, MD 21211 www.damenart.com About/ CV ︎&nbsp; ︎&nbsp; &nbsp; © 2025 Jessica Damen, all rights reserved https://visionsversesvoices.com/Artemis-Rising Sun, 06 Dec 2020 19:13:54 +0000 VISIONS VERSES VOICES https://visionsversesvoices.com/Artemis-Rising Artemis Rising The Solace of Artemisby Paula Meehan VISIONS VERSES VOICES · The Solace Of Artemis Read By Olivia Hollander reading by Olivia Hollander I read that every polar bear alive has mitochondrial DNAfrom a common mother, an Irish brown bear who onceroved out across the last ice age, and I am comforted.It has been a long hot morning with the children of the machine, their talk of memory, of buying it, of buying it cheap, but I,memory keeper by trade, scan time coded in the golden hive mindof eternity. I burn my books, I burn my whole archive:a blaze that sears, synapses flaring cell to cell where memory sleeps in the wax hexagonals of my doomed and melting comb.I see him loping towards me across the vast ice fieldto where I wait in the cave mouth, dreaming my cubs about the den,my honied ones, smelling of snow and sweet oblivion. Artemis Rising oil on linen, 81 x 12” 2020 In Private Collection <img width="455" height="3000" width_o="455" height_o="3000" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/7eed5dd3442417ab1f94acf11d41bcd99511c59968eaef232945b36a7dcf948d/ArtemisRising_Panorama3sizedxc_300dpi._10x1.jpg" data-mid="91329429" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/455/i/7eed5dd3442417ab1f94acf11d41bcd99511c59968eaef232945b36a7dcf948d/ArtemisRising_Panorama3sizedxc_300dpi._10x1.jpg" /> Irish poet and playwright Paula Meehan's poem “The Solace of Artemis” was first published in the Notre Dame Review in the fall of 2012. https://visionsversesvoices.com/Boyhood-Coat-of-Mail-Reborn-Old-Man Sun, 07 Jul 2019 16:40:13 +0000 VISIONS VERSES VOICES https://visionsversesvoices.com/Boyhood-Coat-of-Mail-Reborn-Old-Man Boyhood Coat of Mail / Reborn Old Man An Old Man Lies Down With The Lion by Maj Ragain reading by James Scofield reading by John Wright In an old book of Zen teaching, I come now across a note, written in my own hand, twenty five years ago. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The lion must slay the dragon. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Each scale bears the words, “Thou shall.” When the dragon is slain, one is reborn as a child. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; I was delivered into this world &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; with the dragon’s egg nestled in my breast. I cannot remember the day it emerged from its shell, first a peep, later a snarl. I have felt its hunger since boyhood. One midnight it moved its lair to the lower bitter regions of my soul. It began to feed on what I feared and prayed against. Neither of us knows what it guards or why. Nights, the dragon climbs my rib ladder to lay its head against my heart, lulled to sleep by the drumbeat. It is prisoner to the heavy coat of mail which no sword can pierce, prisoner to the weight of idle years, the taste of sulphur and ash, the bars of bone. Its every dream beckons the lion, the great jaws tearing open the soft underbelly, releasing the dragon from its troth. The dragon’s death marks my birthday. Thou shall lie down with the lion. Thou shall be reborn as an old man. Boyhood Coat of Mailoil on linen 18 x 38” 2015 <img width="3877" height="1817" width_o="3877" height_o="1817" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/e9e1871b84186bb5c0d76a4b36dd0fa4404964d7526d870db6bcc0284063671c/14_Boyhood-Coat-of-Mail_OL_18x38.jpg" data-mid="47299259" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/e9e1871b84186bb5c0d76a4b36dd0fa4404964d7526d870db6bcc0284063671c/14_Boyhood-Coat-of-Mail_OL_18x38.jpg" /> Reborn Old Man oil on linen 17.25 x 37.75”&nbsp;2015 <img width="3872" height="1755" width_o="3872" height_o="1755" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/5e1da6eb4e6f7834cef19a0e3b68aff84493321c070c6e81670b2359296ba66d/15_Reborned-Old-Man_17.25-x-37.75_OL.jpg" data-mid="53181707" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/5e1da6eb4e6f7834cef19a0e3b68aff84493321c070c6e81670b2359296ba66d/15_Reborned-Old-Man_17.25-x-37.75_OL.jpg" /> Maj Ragain. Clouds Pile Up in the North: New &amp; Selected Poem&nbsp;Press 53, LLC, Winston-Salem, NC, 2017 p.4 Damen, Jessica &amp; Ragain, Maj, Home To Sargasso Sea-A Long Journey of Loving Collaboration, exhibition catalog, June 1-July 14, 2018, KSU Downtown Gallery, Kent OH, Kent State University School of Art Collection and Galleries and the Wick Poetry Center with support from the Ohio Arts Council. pp 32-33 *The readers read the first version of this poem https://visionsversesvoices.com/Dolce-Et-Decorum-Est Thu, 25 Jul 2019 00:22:29 +0000 VISIONS VERSES VOICES https://visionsversesvoices.com/Dolce-Et-Decorum-Est Dulce et Decorum Est Dulce et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen reading by Garrett Underwood reading by James Scofield Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs, And towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots, But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots Of gas-shells dropping softly behind. Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! —An ecstasy of fumbling Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time, But someone still was yelling out and stumbling And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime. — Dim through the misty panes and thick green light, As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. In all my dreams before my helpless sight, He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace Behind the wagon that we flung him in, And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin; If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,— My friend, you would not tell with such high zest To children ardent for some desperate glory, The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori. Dulce et Decorum Est, Pro Patri Mori oil on canvas 71 x 78” 2004 &amp; 2013 <img width="2000" height="1817" width_o="2000" height_o="1817" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/778ca4b06b256263463b62e169960f97bdc96fdbb4954d54cde892263af94ea3/25_dolce_et_decorum_est.jpg" data-mid="47299727" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/778ca4b06b256263463b62e169960f97bdc96fdbb4954d54cde892263af94ea3/25_dolce_et_decorum_est.jpg" /> Latin phrase is from the Roman poet Horace: “It is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country.” Source: Poems&nbsp;(Viking Press, 1921) https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46560/dulce-et-decorum-est https://visionsversesvoices.com/Earth-Falls-Away Thu, 25 Jul 2019 00:12:49 +0000 VISIONS VERSES VOICES https://visionsversesvoices.com/Earth-Falls-Away Earth Falls AwayThe Reader by Janet Lewis reading by Carole Heine reading by Catherine Hinton Sun creeps under the eaves, And shines on the bare floor While he forgets the earth. Cool ashes on the hearth, And all so still save for The soft turning of leaves. A creature fresh from birth Clings to the screen door, Heaving damp heavy wings. Earth Falls Away oil on canvas 81 x 12” 2017 <img width="1052" height="7100" width_o="1052" height_o="7100" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/a1d04717f482e6f7467f849a29084778635fcfd31b19254083ebff5401754c15/17_EarthFallsAway_81x12_OC_2017_reduced.jpg" data-mid="47299511" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/a1d04717f482e6f7467f849a29084778635fcfd31b19254083ebff5401754c15/17_EarthFallsAway_81x12_OC_2017_reduced.jpg" /> Janet Lewis. Poems Old and New 1918-1978. Swallow Press, Ohio University Press, Chicago, IL, 1982, p.23 https://visionsversesvoices.com/East-of-the-Sun-West-of-the-Moon Thu, 25 Jul 2019 00:16:23 +0000 VISIONS VERSES VOICES https://visionsversesvoices.com/East-of-the-Sun-West-of-the-Moon East of the Sun- West of the Moon East of the Sun- West of the Moon oil on canvas 14 x 30” 2014 In Private Collection <img width="3361" height="1063" width_o="3361" height_o="1063" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/81b7971ac2cdcef9a4b4d9416e430a0c84e358d9e5b35ba11de752e2bae0fa5a/22_EastoftheSun_WestOftheMoon_14x43_OC_2014_reduced.jpg" data-mid="47299678" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/81b7971ac2cdcef9a4b4d9416e430a0c84e358d9e5b35ba11de752e2bae0fa5a/22_EastoftheSun_WestOftheMoon_14x43_OC_2014_reduced.jpg" /> In Private Collection The Indians in the Woods by Janet Lewis reading by Catherine Hinton Ah, the woods, the woods Where small things Are distinct and visible, The berry plant, The berry leaf, remembered Line for line There are three figures Walking in the woods Whose feet press down Needle and leaf and vine. The Wife of Manibozho Sings by Janet Lewis reading by Catherine Hinton He comes and goes;There is no restWhile he is hereOr gone. I cannot sayThat his feet have pressedThe leavesHe was standing on. He comes and goesAnd the maple leaves Lie stillUnder the sun.&nbsp; Janet Lewis. Poems Old and New 1918-1978 Swallow Press, Ohio University Press, Chicago, IL, 1982, pp. 3 &amp; 4 https://visionsversesvoices.com/A-Fisherman-s-Aurora-Borealis Sun, 07 Jul 2019 16:41:37 +0000 VISIONS VERSES VOICES https://visionsversesvoices.com/A-Fisherman-s-Aurora-Borealis A Fisherman’s Aurora Borealis A Luminous Phenomenonby Maj Ragain reading by Tom Hall There is a spirit, a certain force, inherent in the blood… and the nature, yea, the soul in this spirit and blood is identical with the nature of the stars. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; William Harvey &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Seventeenth Century Physician I sit down with my doctor, a young woman in a starched, white coat, who asks me how I am feeling. I tell her I cannot jump as high as I used to, but I can stay up in the air longer, that the body is nothing more than the material aspect of the soul, and my soul shines like the full harvest moon in the cloudless sky. She reads my brave talk for what it is: whistling past the bone yard. She knows I am waist deep in muddy water. &nbsp; My blood pressure. All my life I have been trying to get it up, to feed the fire. Now, she wants it down, systolic, diastolic, the hard arterial math. One pill dilates the blood vessels. Another relaxes the heart muscle, the shump shump&nbsp;thunder pump. Breath is a wheezing squeeze box. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Narrower is the way, year by year.&nbsp; She smiles softly, takes my hands. We bow our heads in prayer to our heavenly father who teaches love is the first wound, who clears the sugar cane fields with the blade of his hand, who gathers the hungry children unto him that they might taste the sweetness of his grace.&nbsp; One night, in 1953 when I was thirteen, my father shook me awake and called me out to the back steps of the cottage on the lake. It was the summer of the lights, Aurora Borealis, the northern lights, great spikes of cold orange fire running up to the zenith, hot lava cracks in the sky. My father and I sat, wrapped in a blanket, watching the lights dance out over the water. I wanted you to see this, My father said. It is caused by a great storm on the sun&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; A Fisherman’s Aurora Borealis oil on panel 12 x 12” 2016 <img width="2525" height="2520" width_o="2525" height_o="2520" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/2bda2ac7a2a2d5e43234c047cf3eea24fd8e727b85d43fa15c4bb00cb2f80532/18__AFishermansAuroraBorealis_OP_12x12.jpg" data-mid="47299275" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/2bda2ac7a2a2d5e43234c047cf3eea24fd8e727b85d43fa15c4bb00cb2f80532/18__AFishermansAuroraBorealis_OP_12x12.jpg" /> Maj Ragain. Clouds Pile Up in the North: New &amp; Selected Poem&nbsp;Press 53, LLC, Winston-Salem, NC, 2017 p. 122-123 https://visionsversesvoices.com/Gather-Fizz-and-Fizz-Gather Thu, 25 Jul 2019 00:00:23 +0000 VISIONS VERSES VOICES https://visionsversesvoices.com/Gather-Fizz-and-Fizz-Gather Gather and Fizz, Fizz and Gather Kamikaze, That Divine Wind by Maj Ragain reading by James Scofield reading by John Wright My mother is dissolving like an Alka-Seltzer &nbsp;&nbsp; in the warm water of this Indian Summer, the white crown of her head unraveling hair by hair, flung outward toward the Crab nebula, the fiery&nbsp; burrow from which we came. The carbon in these chains that bind flesh to spirit was born in that hot galactic heart. The big fizz is still expanding. My mother’s life is now a small bang, a hushed dissolution, what the white coats have named anxiety attacks, her little apartment abuzz with swarms of tiny Kamikaze planes, the pilots drunk on sake and crazed devotion, diving at her little boat paddling the burning oil slick. I can’t see them. She can. I know they are there. The glass jar shatters on the sidewalk. The fire flies mill about, then gather toward home. Gather and Fizz, Fizz and Gather oil on canvas 81 x 12” 2018Private Collection <img width="1086" height="7160" width_o="1086" height_o="7160" data-src="https://freight.cargo.site/t/original/i/64159ea3a3bb50859e7841c9583df28c273d7d7e9af9996be8fb89ce360e789c/9_GatherFizz_and_FizzGather_oc_81x12_lightened.jpg" data-mid="47299471" border="0" src="https://freight.cargo.site/w/1000/i/64159ea3a3bb50859e7841c9583df28c273d7d7e9af9996be8fb89ce360e789c/9_GatherFizz_and_FizzGather_oc_81x12_lightened.jpg" /> In private collection Maj Ragain. Clouds Pile Up in the North: New &amp; Selected Poem Press 53, LLC, Winston-Salem, NC, 2017 p. 135 Damen, Jessica &amp; Ragain, Maj, Home To Sargasso Sea-A Long Journey of Loving Collaboration, exhibition catalog, June 1-July 14, 2018, KSU Downtown Gallery, Kent OH, Kent State University School of Art Collection and Galleries and the Wick Poetry Center with support from the Ohio Arts Council. pp 42-43