The Biography of Bill Carmel
Bill was born at the confluence of the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers. He brushed his teeth with coal dust and malt. He wove his clothes out of chain mail and cotton threads from the mills.
Dream after dream of Vulcan made his blood run like molten metal from which he made sculpture and other things. Also, he made sculpture in the mudflats of the San Francisco Bay. Later, he learned to paint with brushes made with Black Elk tail hairs and ink made from Live Oak galls.
Bill loves to write prose with porcupine quills and dance under the moon with his wife.
Category: Literary Arts: Author, Poet; Storyteller; Visual Artist
Style: Literary: Prose; Visual Arts; multi-media
Medium: Acrylic; Collage; Mixed Media; Multi-Media
Inside Out
Sometimes without expecting it, there comes a feeling of being alive. Often overlooked as another memory or sensory experience, it triggers strong feelings and connections.
It may come in many ways at any time. The way the light falls across a face, long grass waving in the breeze, or reflections on the surface of water can spark it. Or it may come by sound: a cacophony of frogs after a late spring rain, a stroke of lightning, a waterfall. Sometimes Art activates these feelings as a kind of a mixture of pleasure and suffering. These feelings get lodged in our being. We want them and search for more of them. Our awareness becomes attuned to them: Shapes in the clouds, scents in the garden, songs of our ancestors.
Life uses these connections to keep the living alive. They wake us up and activate deep emotion. We feel at home in ourselves.