Just Words II WORD AS ART 2016





 Just Words Volume II





Danger And Truth

Deciding To Live

She Kept Silent

Silent Girl

Communion Veils

I Left Early

RAINbow Girls

Are You Doing Your Work?

The Rain, the Sea, and Ninoy

Empty & Willing

In The Sky






Danger and Truth

Writing from the place

of truth and experience

is fraught with danger…

it is the hardest thing to do,

to write truthfully,


without hesitation

or fear. 

I understand her fear

 of transforming

that silence into

language and action.

It is a risk.

To love is to risk,

to reveal is to risk,

to tell the truth is to risk

when the truth has been hidden

for years

and silenced in your life. 

in my life

that silence continues

inside the maze of my life 

after many years of living,

and writing

and slowly revealing

the pain is gone

from the sting

of inequality

and misunderstanding

and as the years roll on

there is a softening

of the edges of resentment

that lead the artist to other concerns

no longer bogged down

by the frivolities

of the difficulties

of modern life,

but rather searching

out there

for the source

of inspiration and truth

Always seeking the muse



Deciding To Live

There have been many “Becoming-Rain” moments in

my life that could be referred to as  “deciding to live”    



My first memory as a very small child was noticing

the first bud on a tree branch

in the very early Spring in the backyard. 

It is an indelible memory that triggers

each year after the winter solstice.

I think I decided that I was living and knew that I

was a part of something bigger than myself.

I began to live when I first saw the lights

of a theatrical stage, and danced my first ballet.

I decided to live when dance

became my language as a young girl.

I began to live when I stepped on an airplane

at the ripe age of 18 years old and headed out west in

the middle of my senior year of high school.

I stepped away from a male dominated family, and

culture, and began the journey

I am still traveling today.

I decided to live when I remained there, and in the

end, attended University of California, Berkeley;

priceless years, most of the great artists and scholars

I studied with have passed on, but they were some

of the ground breakers in Modern Art.

I began to live when I stood up for the rights of the

Filipino people under the  dictatorship of Marcos…

as an ex-peace corps volunteer using my voice to

speak through my music…

People Power followed that movement…

I began to live when I walked into

the studio of Peter Voulkos,

His energy and huge personality filling my senses

with the possibility of Art as a life…

And I decided to live as an artist in the darkened

art history auditoriums of the great art historian

Peter Seltz, wild haired and magical he transformed

my vision of how it was possible to transform

the world through art.

I decided to live when I committed my life to Art,

through teaching, through creating, by exploring

many mediums, and continuing in the search for

meaning in my art making, whatever the medium.

I decided to live, when I gave Bob Dylan a painting,

and he thanked me from the stage. I bought a guitar

and began my musical journey.

I decided to live when I took the stage for the first

time at The Earl of Old Town in Chicago and became

Patti Rain.

I decided to live when poetry saved me on the streets

of New York, and my song writing gave me my voice.

I decided to live when I married Rio.

I decide to live when we committed to the Wicker

Park house and created a beautiful home

out of rubble.

I decided to live when I took on two adopted

children, both special needs amidst teaching

1200 kids a year

I decided to live when I retired from CPS, and chose

to focus on my Art.

I decided to live when I accepted the LRMFA

program’s invitation…

I keep on Living ….through the pain, and the joys,

and the memories  of where my art began, in the

studios of the bay area artists…I continue to make the

decision to live.

Making the decision to live for me,

happens each time I make the choice that will

allow me to continue to grow as an artist. There is

always the dilemma of time and place,

there is never enough time. But when

deciding to live you accept the inevitable that time

requires and try to use and bend time. 

The artist clock is an eternal and internal clock

connected to nature and the seasons, connected to

the pulse of humanity, each time we choose to live,

we expand our possibilities as humans

and the possibilities of what

we can contribute to the other

humans on the planet. 

Deciding to Live is a decision to BE.











She Kept Silent

the first memories are always of Spring

the buds discovered on a crab apple tree

the sun blazing

warm winds blowing

I have memories of white clouds of laundry

smelling fresh from a day

hanging in the wind

in the sunshine

secure and welcoming

on a warm spring night

as the air turns cool

mother in the garden planting the annuals

that will grace the pathway all summer and fall

sounds of children laughing filter in

through the screen on my window

summer is coming

you can hear it in the way the birds sing

in the early morning, anxious for us all to wake up and come outside

as I got older, and we moved again, for the third time

summers were full of swim classes and picnics,

dance lessons and recitals

family parties


summer camp

late nights at the roller rink

making friends with the city boys

fast and naughty

summer camp became the refuge

at last away from home at the age  of 10

4 boys in the house and one girl

made for a pretty lonely adolescence

busy raising the three youngest boys

mother left me to fend off the older brother

and cousin

she managed to bury that night

deep inside her psyche

in order to survive


she kept silent


Silent Girl

Why are you silent girl?

Why do I see you cry?

What words do you swallow up inside?

What secrets can’t you share?

Can I help you find your voice…?


Speak it out

Tell it loud

Tell it clear

Tell it loud and clear

Speak that truth for the world to hear

Tell the world now

And quiet those fears

 I know the fear of telling just a little too much

The way their face changes

when they learn about your history




“You should write a book”

 They say

How many lifetimes have you lived?

They say


I put the words on the paper,

let the fingers dance and sing across the page

I tell the inner voice it’s your turn,

come out now and have a word

Meet the other thoughts that are

dancing around inside my head.











Communion Veils

White lace veiled girls

Like plastic dolls dressed up and made for pearls

White stockings

candy frosting

sneak a taste

before the party

gazing in the mirrors

White lace veiled girls

Crown the Queen of heaven

With her wreath of roses red

We clung to the hope that we would be the one

To bring the flowers and place them on her head

White lace dressed girls processing in a line

White rosary beads hanging down

White lace anklets slip onto the feet of

White lace veiled girls


I Left Early

The waiting for the airplane to land

Standing at the airport



From where is coming from?

He was always traveling somewhere

A CBS Soundman

He instilled in me a sense of wanderlust

That eventually led me around the world

I left early

I escaped

Escaping the danger of getting trapped into the

”Mall Culture”

It was the Midwest

The center of the country

Post WWII American suburbs

God I detested it there



As soon as I could I was in the city

My favorite thing was the brick streets in Old Town

And the horse and carriages that ran

back and forth around the city

Grabbing the train and heading

to the lights of the big city

That Girl

The Civic Opera House

Crosby Stills and Nash

Woodstock Summer

And soon I would leave

Run from the misunderstanding

I learned later on in life what the problem was

I left early











Rainbow Girls     


I saw her walking the street one day

Not too long ago

One of my Rainbow Girls

My! My! Did she grow!

Black Tortoise shell glasses

Camouflage Converse Shoe

Mini Skirt

And a T-Shirt that says;

“Fuck You”

She’s my Silver Girl

Hard Life



But the sunshine yellow girl

That sunshine yellow girl

Now we got the purple girl

She was all smiles and curls

Big Ambitions

Wanted to see the world


Hiding her identity

From the authority

My purple girl…

She came from south of the border town…

She was hidin’ in my classroom

She brightened up my day

My Purple Girl

But that yellow sunshine

That Sunshine Girl


She changed my….

Pure As a Goddess

Dressed in White

Heavy laden with Pearls and Jewels

On her wedding night

So brave and so beautiful

And poor as can be

For the rest of her life,

My Pakistani White girl,

She gonna live in luxury

She was determined never to live poor

Since she was a little girl…

And sister RED

That Pakistani Twin

With the smile that goes ear to ear

And a heart that beats deep within

Living in the shadow of the Goddess

Hard to a twin

These two little rays of sunshine


That brought us....JOY

But that Sunshine Yellow Girl

My Sunshine Yellow Girl

Mmmm …She changed my world


And that Blue Girl

That Bosnian beauty

She got a story to tell

Victimized as a child…

It took her a little longer to grow

But she went off on her own

That Blue Girl

So many children in her family

And her Daddy

Man he kept her down

(I would counsel her about that)

She finally released herself

A teacher

My Blue Girl is a teacher

That silver girl is a dancer

My white girl

she lives in the medical land of the pharmacy

she educated herself

And now she’s living in luxury

With her mmmmmmmMan……

Who loves her so

But that Sunshine Girl

That sunshine Girl

From Mexico…


Since she was a child

She changed me everyday day

She listens

To every word

And yes she did learn

Sunshine girl

She’s in the Art world……….




These are my Rainbow Girls

But they changed my world

And the days go by

The student becomes the teacher

The teacher becomes the student

The child becomes the mother

The mother becomes the child

My Rainbow Girls

They’ll be here for …………….


They live here in my heart………..

















Are You Doing Your Work?

I read these words and

I challenge my silence.

What are the words you do not yet have?

Perhaps for some of you here today,

I am the face of your fears

Fear and misunderstanding was a common mantel

we all wore in my generation

I read these words and I challenge my silence,

I am a warrior woman artist

You look at me with fear because

I am a white warrior woman

I am a white, heterosexual, married, white warrior woman

on the other side…a full life lived…now focused on  and facing my own work

Having given a third of my life

to the teaching of art

to the raising of children

to the building of my home

my husband’s career

his injury

his illness

I now make art again

with great joy and abandon.

I am not bound to shock

or awe you with my beliefs,

but rather to tempt you

into my world

not of popular culture

or gender politics,

to experience the way

art can transform lives,

teaching art,

making music,

through painting,

By living a life well lived,

as the Artist.


I am doing my work.





















“Light A Fire”   2016                                     








The Rain, The Sea, and Ninoy

She took everything she could carry when she left Japan

She didn’t know where she would find it

But she knew where she was going

On her way back to the islands

It had been a rich experience living in Japan

Lots of experiences

Too many to think about

She keeps flashing on the image of Junji

Yakusa Boyfriend


She said good bye

Without emotion

She had become very Japanese after four years

Living outside Kobe

In a small fishing village

She reached the islands

Came looking for a some brand new music

Something was out there

She could feel it drawing her there

This country and the people had become part of her

It was hot in Manila

Everyday it was hot

She was still living in Japan when he was killed

He was returning home

He was going to run for President

Democracy would return at long last

They really did believe in our democracy

The people embraced our values

They were thankful to us for saving them

She read about it one morning in Suma-ku

He was gunned down as he was leaving the plane

By some lone gunman

The gunman was seen in all the newspapers

Laying on the tarmac

Laying in the hot sun

For 12 hours

No one moved the body

But she knows that is not the truth

She was her way back to the island

He was walking down her dream path

When she saw him walking by

No glance

No look

He walked on

She took her dreams

Down to sea

And she dove in to the water

Her skin turned to bronze

Her hair turned golden blond

But he walked on

She saw his silhouette

As he sat beside the cave

His flute carried his feelings on the wind

And as his eyes secretly watched her

She took off all her covering

And she dove down

Into the sea of dreams

The girls began to gather around the fire

But still he avoided her

Until they told him of her music

Then the pain began

She watched his defenses grow

But on that first night

After the moon was full

They walked on down along the sea

They both lacked the strength

To leave it alone

And in their hearts

They pledged to all the stars above

That the music was their way

Of turning all that love on

They dove down

Into the sea of dreams

She brought the music back to the city

A Country Cried

When Ninoy Died

He was just trying

To right what was wrong

Put his people back on track

To where they once belonged

To where they once belonged

But they wouldn’t accept the changes

So they quickly rearranged it

When they killed this man

They thought it would

Be over

And done

Oh what a shame

Tell me brother

Who’s to blame?

A Country Cried

When Ninoy died

The recording was done in a studio in Manila

Upstairs the producer was meeting with the

Chief justices

Of the Supreme Court

To discuss the truth

Around Ninoy’s death

He would prove

That it was not Galman

Who shot Ninoy

But rather Galman

Had been killed the night before

And placed

In a refrigerated truck


Then he was thrown out

Onto the tarmac

Frozen son

Who killed Ninoy?

For 12 hours Galman lay there

After Ninoy’s death

12 hours

To allow him

To thaw out

It was surreal

All of it

The song was banned on government radio

But they played it on opposition radio

She had to leave the country

She was passionate

About his death

About the people

About the fact that

We were about to send


In military aid

To Ninoy’s country



She came back to her country

Everybody looked at her

Like she had already died

No one wanted to listen

She heard they were going to try and defeat him

So many candidates running

It was a circus

And in the end

It was Ninoy’s wife

Who was elected


People Power!









Empty & Willin’

The SYMPTOMS were evident

In the Arts, In the Political Structure,

the church, and the Family

It was the calm before the storm


of an entire civilization

Doomsday speakers had their say

There is always a place in this world for the negative

It was the ones who thought positively

They were the TARGET!

To THEM we represented the PAST


the YOUNG and the OLD



But even as we grew, and became

more a part of the system

They didn’t see us for who we really were

If they had listened to the voices in the sky

who had inspired our minds

PERHAPS we would have

spared the world such pain

But our world was set up

From the START our PLANET was involved in a


That SHE took no part in


Those were Cosmic consequences that the planet

had grown up with








In The Sky

This round sphere spinning

Traveling around the great sun

Older than we realize

Hiding truths yet be revealed

In this time of man

The long history of earth

So Many stories and legends

Each one a part of the truth

Revealed over centuries


We think we know the story

We only know parts of the story

We have forgotten

Or lost

Most of the truth…

Buried and forgotten

Under the sands

Hidden from view

Lay the history of our planet

Under the sea

A world still so deep

Unknown to us

The hidden caves

Over time we discover

Bits and pieces of Ancient Texts

Cracked and dried out skulls

Traces of lives lived and lost to time

Mummies that reveal strangely shaped heads

And the Art


In every culture

Revealing something…

Out there

In the Sky