Judy Rushin-Knopf
jrushin.bsky.social
Judy Rushin-Knopf
@jrushin.bsky.social
Artist, mother, wife, dogs’ person
264. on a cold January morning I shuffle my seed packets to get warm
265. surrendering the idea that the perfection I see in my mind is in any way attainable, while understanding that through art - whether making or consuming it - I am seeking the memory of that perfection.
January 18, 2026 at 11:44 AM
263. “Like everyone else, I imagined my island as an idyllic place, a utopia…but what I found were not models of romantic, alternative ways of living, but…unsettlingly barren places whose riches lay in the multitude of terrible events that had befallen them.” Judith Schalansky 2009
January 12, 2026 at 3:14 AM
259. a Downy Woodpecker at a bird feeder
260. a clean red line painted across a tattered, brown scrap of cotton
261. red twig dogwoods displaying their fiery color in the afternoon glow
262. looking up at Jupiter looking down on Earth, imagining its Great Red Spot
January 6, 2026 at 4:18 AM
256. feeling superstitions kick in for old times’ sake
257. a welcome sense of urgency as I began my work today
258. the first hopeful minute of 2026, EST
January 1, 2026 at 5:18 AM
251. knowing I have the option to be hungry or not
253. wondering if the brown spider in my studio, indifferent to my concerns, is afraid when transported to a new location
254. a busy mind making it difficult to read a book
255. the pleasure of wet fulling a piece of cloth
December 30, 2025 at 3:19 AM
247. a family of 7 walking thru the airport in matching plaid pajamas
248. the desert night sky - my only escape from our petty human dramas
249. a year that can possibly be summed up as agorocacological
250. when you can still see the little child you once knew in the eyes of your adult kid
December 23, 2025 at 9:51 PM
244. the joy of seeing your children achieve hard-earned goals
245. the heavy smell of room deodorizer in an interstate hotel room
246. a brittle wishbone as a symbol for our times
December 13, 2025 at 2:05 PM
243. could you?
243. would you?
December 12, 2025 at 5:11 PM
240. feet planted on wall pushing body away
241. teen lovers blush and giggle at the grunting man
242. a recent appreciation of Liz Fraser’s remarkable vocal style, but I’ve always been a late bloomer
December 2, 2025 at 3:22 AM
239. a vivid dream in which a friend, seeing I am not myself, urgently rushes to me with an abstract image that resembles a pile of beads, saying “here you are!” I place my hand on the image and become myself.
December 1, 2025 at 3:07 AM
235. wrapped in a cocoon of suds at the carwash
236. to be needed
237. a 10 year project completion exhibition
238. a season change marked by crisp air
October 22, 2025 at 5:28 PM
234. the lice were real, Bruno said, but he had come to understand that they were also a metaphor: they stood for the transmigration of life, from one being to the next, from past to future. (Rachel Kushner, Creation Lake)
September 18, 2025 at 3:10 AM
229. leaves floating downstream
230. a lifetime of misunderstanding
231. a feeling of overwhelm when driving over a damn
232. the steady hum of late night white noise
233. the angled ceilings of my attic room
September 16, 2025 at 4:25 AM
227. purple petals collected in the sidewalk cracks create a tidy geometric border around a patch of grass
228. Watching a baby barely three weeks old perceive the world
September 3, 2025 at 2:43 AM
222. a sticky dough of cellulose insulation, kaolin, water, and pva glue
223. a colony of ants feeding on a cicada
224. cars floating on a flooded interstate
225. the relief that cold air brings to my overheated body
226. the herbaceous smell of tomato leaves
August 15, 2025 at 2:33 AM
218. a reunion
219. hundreds of dragonflies swarm above and around me
220. neighbors who have become friends
221. a sit by the river with my guy
August 9, 2025 at 1:36 AM
215. a dying brown bird, warm in my hand, buried in tall grasses
216. a secret swimming hole on a hot day
217. saving teabags for Andrea Zittel
July 26, 2025 at 3:45 AM
210. one hand sharing a painful truth, the other offering hope
211. a wet towel to cool a hot steering wheel
212. anxiety as object of destruction
213. three threads strung with marigolds hanging in a kitchen
214. the suddenness of a flash flood
July 15, 2025 at 4:39 AM
205. a feral garden rejecting human interference
206. constant hunger as a reminder
207. a hemstitched line suspended by 500 threads
208. a body, suspended in a spiderweb, hoping for a savior
209. soaking as a form of self-soothing
July 4, 2025 at 6:03 AM
Reposted by Judy Rushin-Knopf
There's nothing that Congress loves more than forfeiting its warmaking powers to the president. Doing so has been a longstanding bipartisan project, and the country deserves a better opposition party than one ready to go along with an Iraq War redux. www.huffpost.com/entry/trump-...
Democrats Ambivalent On Trump's Possible War Despite It Being Deeply Unpopular
Progressives want a vote on the president’s war powers while many Democrats are keeping quiet.
www.huffpost.com
June 19, 2025 at 2:16 AM
Reposted by Judy Rushin-Knopf
"The bill directs what is likely the largest single sale of national public lands in modern history..."

www.wilderness.org/articles/med...
250+ million acres of public lands eligible for sale in SENR bill
The bill mandates disposal of over 2 million acres of BLM and National Forest lands; public lands eligible for sale in the bill encompass over 250 million acres, including local recreation areas, wild...
www.wilderness.org
June 19, 2025 at 4:27 AM
200. the ubiquitous ticking in a clock repair shop
201. a child's delight in summer water play
202. the red-brown of cinnamon
203. restoring fertile soil where it has been depleted
204. a fierce wind takes an industrial door off its frame
June 19, 2025 at 10:19 AM
197. in my dreams I breath under water and see through my eyelids
198. an excavated yard
199. realistic weeds made out of paper
May 26, 2025 at 1:47 AM
193. my dog stranded on a paver in the middle of her hot, black, occultated yard
194. the struggle to complete a project that has dragged on for too long
195. a letter arrives, bearing the marks of its journey
196. a chin on my knee
May 15, 2025 at 12:39 AM
188. the destructive capacity of nostalgia
189. magnificent flowers no bigger than pencil erasers growing on a patch of urban weeds
190. backyard to table
191. the fresh smell rain
192. a blood-clot beneath a fingernail
April 27, 2025 at 2:46 AM