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Mixed media collage

10” x 10” / 12.5” x 12.5”


inspired by the poem 'Rain" by Will Nixon




Why does rain in the movies always mean sadness?

Why does rain imply sex in the novels of Yukio Mishima 

as my boarding school English teacher once informed us?

Why does the rain sound like stampeding baby feet 

on my cottage roof as I sit down to write morning pages? 

Why do I not have the words for rain the way Eskimos

do for snow: do we not have thirty-two varieties of sadness?

I've seen the rain thin into harp strings. I've seen it thicken

with the vengeance of bullets that dissolve into puddles.

No one should decide what the rain means in the novels 

of Yukio Mishima, but the lovers themselves, plotting 

their lives under an umbrella as loud as a typewriter

clackety-clacketying with the downpour of news. 

Whenever they chose, they can drink from the sky.


—  © Will Nixon

Ann discusses working with encaustic




Ann Morris has been making ceramic art for more than 30 years.  Her work is diverse, whimsical, spiritual, mysterious and organic.  Lately, Ann has been exploring her dreamscape – creating masks, mysterious female figures and small houses.

"Rain" Ann Morris

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