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In Memoriam

Anchor 2

The Final Piece, The Swan Song, The Grande Finale;

of Stephen Beitler


'Rebirth', oil on canvas 36"X48", was originally painted during four sessions over four days of the first stay-at-home order in the heart of downtown Los Angeles, CA, March, 2020. The LA Dept. of Cultural Affairs arranged a grant for local artists to create work in response; entitled "Reimagine Public Art."

In gratitude; I share this offering to slow down and listen to these words;

I cannot paint live for you; I paint in stages...

I cannot sing with you; I sing in patterns...

I cannot speak to you; I voice my prose...

I cannot be in life with you; I give you; 'Rebirth'

Anchor 1
A Poem of Secrets
So Angry

Hidden pieces of poetry make up our lives 


The signposts we drop to find our way home. 


so simple, not simple? 


When we need




Other than what is 


We cease to exist, and become a phantom of ourselves trying to breathe life into nothingness   


Each breath is a miracle, When we remember. 


When we forget; We serve, Practice , Garden. 

Care for the life and the world manifest 


When we remember; We are 


There is no thing beyond isness 

How could we put all of everything into words? 

Why do we try?

Breathing happens  

We are still here... how odd... how miraculous 

Ease in no preferences pulling purposefully toward one extreme... or the next. 


To begin, to end

Birth, Death

Life, Stagnation 

Love with no opposite 


What is it to stumble upon the unknowable truth of everything that cannot be circumferenced by the human mind... 


Funneled through, Down, Squished 

Into the tininess of words.  

Who would ever want a universe where no mystery resides? 


How dreadful life would be if we could possibly encompass impossibility with a thought. 


A word

A poem

A prayer 


A life

Affecting Loneliness
Only so much Life


How Far?

Beep Here Now


Singing Crystals

Whistling with the Birds

Why do you Howl?

"Why do you Howl, Little Wolf?" asked the curious owl.

"I howl for my family." Said the sad little wolf.

"Your family is gone?"

"Gone, but not forgotten."

"So, why do you howl little wolf?"

"I howl so they might hear me, those departed or not. I howl for them inside me, around, and so others might hear us too."

"If you howl for others and yourself, you might as well howl at the moon." Scoffed the wise owl.

"If I howl at the moon Mr. Owl, then I howl for you."

"How so?" Asked the surprised owl.

"I howl to remember and forget, to know you as you are, and not as you were. I howl for you, reflected by me, and for my remembering you."

"And, why would you remember me?"

"Beecause, I howl for all that is, was, or ever will be. I howl, to know I am alive."

Who... who... who....


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