@karenlukefildes.bsky.social
little sketches smoothing out my clenchy bits - week 3 on vancouver island, oh canada.
October 21, 2025 at 7:38 AM
little sketches smoothing out my clenchy bits - week 3 on vancouver island, oh canada.
just putting this out there.
October 13, 2025 at 6:30 AM
just putting this out there.
one more fresh painting… no title yet. oregon tidepools are consoling, yes?
August 29, 2025 at 10:58 PM
one more fresh painting… no title yet. oregon tidepools are consoling, yes?
just wanted to put something that consoles me out there- it’s predictable, and wet ... a little pull of the tide.
August 29, 2025 at 10:55 PM
just wanted to put something that consoles me out there- it’s predictable, and wet ... a little pull of the tide.
… fresh paint, “Morning Blanket”, 36x36.
April 27, 2025 at 5:31 AM
… fresh paint, “Morning Blanket”, 36x36.
April 25, 2025 at 7:58 AM
April 25, 2025 at 7:52 AM
Working on a commission for a woman who has spent her life working on water quality research and education. I have so much respect for the ones who have paved the way, bringing renewal and restoration. #wedgemountain #renewalispossible #blessthepatrons
March 29, 2025 at 7:31 AM
Working on a commission for a woman who has spent her life working on water quality research and education. I have so much respect for the ones who have paved the way, bringing renewal and restoration. #wedgemountain #renewalispossible #blessthepatrons
Just a little drop.
March 28, 2025 at 7:25 AM
Just a little drop.
Mom brought “show and tell bowl” to coffee today. The sequoias are proliferating in Gifford Pinchot- way to go guys!
March 28, 2025 at 6:17 AM
Mom brought “show and tell bowl” to coffee today. The sequoias are proliferating in Gifford Pinchot- way to go guys!
Sprout anyway.
March 27, 2025 at 6:54 PM
Sprout anyway.
We’re in this together.
March 19, 2025 at 2:50 AM
We’re in this together.
The gentle one blooms lushly… while the bully, a coward, does nothing of any beauty.
March 1, 2025 at 9:19 PM
The gentle one blooms lushly… while the bully, a coward, does nothing of any beauty.
Why do the old dead ones hang on so long? Some maples are stubborn like that, they just won’t let go. See those little buds? The new little ones will need to push through so the old ones will finally let go. Come on new little life, you can do it.
March 1, 2025 at 6:49 AM
Why do the old dead ones hang on so long? Some maples are stubborn like that, they just won’t let go. See those little buds? The new little ones will need to push through so the old ones will finally let go. Come on new little life, you can do it.
Bless the feminine flow,
The blood of moon,
Where grasses bend
with calligrated fold
The blade will blush
and bend and touch.
The old will die to peat the womb.
To soften the cradle.
in the bosom of her release,
we found our brackish hope in childhood.
Klf
The blood of moon,
Where grasses bend
with calligrated fold
The blade will blush
and bend and touch.
The old will die to peat the womb.
To soften the cradle.
in the bosom of her release,
we found our brackish hope in childhood.
Klf
February 23, 2025 at 7:02 AM
Bless the feminine flow,
The blood of moon,
Where grasses bend
with calligrated fold
The blade will blush
and bend and touch.
The old will die to peat the womb.
To soften the cradle.
in the bosom of her release,
we found our brackish hope in childhood.
Klf
The blood of moon,
Where grasses bend
with calligrated fold
The blade will blush
and bend and touch.
The old will die to peat the womb.
To soften the cradle.
in the bosom of her release,
we found our brackish hope in childhood.
Klf
I retraced my steps and found my journal after three weeks looking at the Sunset Tavern in Ballard. I’ve can’t tell if it’s genius or shit but it does amuse.
February 16, 2025 at 9:51 AM
I retraced my steps and found my journal after three weeks looking at the Sunset Tavern in Ballard. I’ve can’t tell if it’s genius or shit but it does amuse.
I’m not a poet
But the water is.
I’m not a word
But I heard the rocks
chattering in little splashy bits.
Bits.
Bots.
I’m not a bot.
Are you?
Are you real?
How would you know?
By the truth in your laugh.
How would you laugh?
Ask the water splashing
through those rocks.
KLF
But the water is.
I’m not a word
But I heard the rocks
chattering in little splashy bits.
Bits.
Bots.
I’m not a bot.
Are you?
Are you real?
How would you know?
By the truth in your laugh.
How would you laugh?
Ask the water splashing
through those rocks.
KLF
February 6, 2025 at 6:50 PM
I’m not a poet
But the water is.
I’m not a word
But I heard the rocks
chattering in little splashy bits.
Bits.
Bots.
I’m not a bot.
Are you?
Are you real?
How would you know?
By the truth in your laugh.
How would you laugh?
Ask the water splashing
through those rocks.
KLF
But the water is.
I’m not a word
But I heard the rocks
chattering in little splashy bits.
Bits.
Bots.
I’m not a bot.
Are you?
Are you real?
How would you know?
By the truth in your laugh.
How would you laugh?
Ask the water splashing
through those rocks.
KLF
February 5, 2025 at 8:30 AM
Be the puffle on that spear.
February 3, 2025 at 6:32 PM
Be the puffle on that spear.
I lost a sketchbook last week with prelim studies for commissions- but that’s not enough, I also lost my journal. I swear I’ve called every establishment I had been to… no sign of it. No cloud to back up to, just a hundred or so pages of random wafting graphic epiphanies.
February 3, 2025 at 3:29 AM
I lost a sketchbook last week with prelim studies for commissions- but that’s not enough, I also lost my journal. I swear I’ve called every establishment I had been to… no sign of it. No cloud to back up to, just a hundred or so pages of random wafting graphic epiphanies.
Hovering at the easel in the quiet and looking for innocent notes of light.
January 23, 2025 at 6:48 AM
Hovering at the easel in the quiet and looking for innocent notes of light.