On my Etsy site I've described this piece as having the possibility of holding Faith, Innocence, and the Letting Go of Fear.
I made this several years ago. I love having it in my life. The Fool has always been sacred to me.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Potato Dream
Last night I dreamed that my potatoes had sprouted and voila, today I went and checked and there they were in their complete adorableness peeking through the straw mulch soakin' up a little of the warmth today.How cool is that???
In my dream the sprouts were much bigger, dense. Also, I found them while I was exploring really deep parts of the ocean in my pajamas. I don't even wear pajamas. The wonderful thing about being underwater in dreams is that I can breathe. There are bubbles. And the bubbles cover my eyes so I can see. The potato babies were not in the ocean. Not really sure how I got to the earthy part of the dream but I digress.
I don't eat potatoes, although, I'm hearing about this thing called "resistant starch". Raw potato is one of them and what it does is feed the healthy bacteria in the gut with huge amounts of health benefits. Another dot connected in my seemingly unrelated and artistic life of dotness. This connecting is a thing I adore because it creates more amazement and I think I kinda live for that. Hmmm, and possibly I live to digress. Amen.
P.S. This photo is not my actual baby potato but one on google images that is the exact twin of my new tater tot. Thank you google images, once again.
Connection
A clay board drawing I must have done 1-2 hundred years ago. Something about being separate and connected from within and by everything that surrounds us because we are all of it and each other.
Sunday, May 25, 2014
Six Month Emotive
"Things take the time they take." - Mary Oliver
Last couple of days there's been a recurring sadness. A pervasive tear drenched sadness. 6 months of silence from someone that professed to love me has created a deep mere of ruin that I fall into sometimes as I journey over the bridge. A bridge I continue to build to save my heart and my life. Three years of joys, hardships, trust, and growth inspiring work, then nothing. Now I am left with some kind of healed over wound that feels like a bruise to the touch. Some days I worry about my ability to repair the damage.
Maybe, trying to find some lightness, maybe just because it feels good, I move around in the world as freely and as joyously as I can. It doesn't seem to matter. Randomly, it appears, pokes, writhes, swells. I'm trying to write about it so that it can just be. Words are hard. Pain is not easy to describe.
And then I get angry at myself for letting it happen again. For not just being able to get past the grief. For not just despising. For turning my head in the direction of anguish. For not focusing in the direction of the beauty that still exists in the world. For imagining that she has the power to hurt me with her self absorbed choices, denials, and reasons. For being angry at myself for being human.
It could be that anger is just easier, somehow kinder than grief but still, a disingenuous substitute. Of course there is always time. That ancient, annoying, trustworthy cliche. Time will you wash me clean of this soiled memory? Will you leave only the moments that move from one to the other, always with perfection?
Small Prayer
by Weldon Kees
Change, move, dead clock, that this fresh day
May break with dazzling light to these sick eyes.
Burn, glare, old sun, so long unseen,
That time may find its sound again, and cleanse
Whatever it is that a wound remembers
After the healing ends.
Bee Blur
Passed by the Ceanothus "hedge" again, on my way to Shiga, and there was so much going on!! Bees galore and I wanted to take a beautiful picture of them and they buzzed too fast and it was raining and I'm allergic and I was laughing. So it was difficult. I'll try again.
Saturday, May 24, 2014
Another Find
Hot Plate Woman Self Portrait
Found her on a blog and am always inspired by her art and words. Wonderful wonderful writer. Betsy.
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