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One cold night in Amarillo, TX 30 visual artists presented their responses to the poems of Dr. Hunter Ingalls. This book is the outcome
One cold night in Amarillo, TX 30 visual artists presented their responses to the poems of Dr. Hunter Ingalls. This book is the outcome
63 backers pledged $2,780 to help bring this project to life.

Recent updates

Finally!!

After much hair pulling and herding of cats the book is on it's way to the printer! 

We should have books in hand within a few weeks and you should as well. 

Sorry for the delays, thank you for your support, and rest assured our lessons are now learned and our next project will ship on deadline.

APP

Progress!

We are making some great progress towards the publishing of this book. But we still have a long way to go. Make sure anyone you know who appreciates art, poetry, or the idea that a creative community can bootstrap it's own ideas what the kickstarter concept is all about. Let's spread the word and get this book funded! And for your trouble...another poem:\

SANDIA DAWN

In my dream people are playing

jazz in a church social room

and the music goes on

and on

very quiet

very intimate

very upbeat

getting steadily

more quite

until, with an almost inaudible

“ping”

like a bird’s first chirp

before dawn, it

quits

And I wake up

in this unfamiliar room

full of kid’s stuff

and books about religion

in an Albuquerque home

where eight adopted children

are learning to communicate

and play and “do their thing”

(one without arms or legs motoring around,

another is blind, another severely lame)

and go out for a walk

on the musical street

where birds are intermingling

neighboring trees with sounds,

songs, liquefactions

of the fructification

of dawn.

And I go walking along Aspen

to Constitution, under just one

intimate star, perhaps a planet,

under just one intimate melon-slice

moon, with light coming on

all around Sandia Mountain

in air faintly redolent of…watermelon?,

birds chirp chirp chirping

in the dark still clinging

to leaves of multifarious trees,

a manyness of awakenings

including one dog’s uncertain

muffled arfcantations.

The light

filtrates

it doesn’t come pouring

like concrete from Coyote Gravel Products

with its truck radio blaring

gravel drivel, discombobulating

the fine quiet.

And further on, from Wyoming

I can see Sandia’s long

long intricately nibbled outline

under a few clouds quietly turning

from watermelon-pink to white,

with automobiles now passing

Wyoming Center—Computer Works,

Le Café Miche, TLC Uniforms,

Satell Orthopedic Supports, etc.—

where no one’s working

yet, and may not, because it’s Saturday.

And then I return east on Aspen

toward Watermelon Mountain

completing the round trip,

past irises and roses awake for the occasion

of this mid-May morning’s extension

of quiet from the conclusion

of that jazz guitar solo

from which I awoke.

And the home to which I return

in this cool, quiet, Sandia dawn

is so warmly alive with love,

with concern, with learning

it seems to be bursting.

Another poem.

Just another taste of Hunter's work:

RAINAISSANCE

Born again to love,

born again to die;

born again to live on earth

springing sprit to the sky!

Born again with a poem,

born again with a child;

born again with a storm of tears

and born again with a smile.

Born again with friendship,

born again with dreams,

born again when “enemies” send

our tolerance to extremes.

Born again in laughter,

born again in joy;

born again when we up-end

despair in a girl or boy.

Born again in freedom,

yes freedom’s a very high birth;

someday we’ll really know freedom

when hunger is gone from the earth.

Born again to help,

born again to greet,

born again and again and again

when we truly learn to relate

to the being of our planet,

to the being of our Lord,

to the being of our fellow-kind

reborn in the birth of the word.

Born again to love,

born again to die;

born again to live on earth

springing sprit to the sky!

Off to a great start!

We hit the ground running and made more than 10% of our goal in our first day. 

Now we need to keep the momentum. Collectively we can do anything. This is something we all believe here at APP.

Now we aim to prove it. With your help.

Thank you for what you are doing. Thank you for what you will do.

Reclaiming our creative culture. Pushing the arts.

We are all the Arts Pusher Project.