WEST SEATTLE ART: Hope along Holden

| Highland Park | West Seattle news | WS culture/arts

(WSB photos)

The coterie of artists and poets who have been creating signboard art installations along SW Holden by Highland Park Improvement Club [map] have done it again. They welcomed spring this morning by placing newly painted boards voicing hope – with the flip sides spelling HPIC via bird portraits:

The bird portraits were inspired by David Allen Sibley‘s book “What It’s Like to Be a Bird.” The creators are, from left below, Monica Cavagnaro (lead painter), Judith Camann (poet), Kay Kirkpatrick (themes), and Kelly Lyles (fonts):

Kirkpatrick says, “We just want people to have a good time while sitting in traffic.” The “hope” expressed by the boards this time has multiple meanings – including hope that the West Seattle Bridge will indeed reopen this year, removing some of the detour traffic that’s filled Holden, and hope of a rebirth for the fire-gutted HPIC building. (Next meeting about the rebuilding project is April 6th – watch HPIC’s website for details on that, as well as for word of a community cleanup on the citywide Day of Service April 23rd.)

P.S. It’s been more than a year and a half since the first HPIC streetside-art boards!

HPIC Neighbor March 20, 2022 (5:11 pm)

Thank you to the wonderful artists who’ve made these streetside works of art for all to enjoy over the last two years. They make a difference in my day….and I suspect many others’ too.

NW March 20, 2022 (6:58 pm)

There is hope thank god you people are out there. Was contemplating briefly of making sings along highland park way hill expressing what terrible selfish drivers are about. Thanks for the positive message !

Poetry March 20, 2022 (10:31 pm)

Nice :)

Here’s the full poem, for those unfamiliar

Hope” is the thing with feathers – (314)

BY EMILY DICKINSON

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -That perches in the soul -And sings the tune without the words -And never stops – at all -And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard -And sore must be the storm -That could abash the little BirdThat kept so many warm -I’ve heard it in the chillest land -And on the strangest Sea -Yet – never – in Extremity,It asked a crumb – of me.