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 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.