dot in time

tree

2008-07-14T07:08:00.000-07:00

the closer i get to a tree, the easier it is to breathe...not a coincidence.

whimsical

2008-05-24T11:35:00.001-07:00

for inspire me thursday

crayons woven in

2008-05-18T20:05:00.000-07:00

for inspire me thursday

2008-05-11T19:59:00.000-07:00

When I die & go to heaven, this is what it will look like. (click on image for better view.)

all we are saying...

2008-04-03T07:21:00.001-07:00

is give peace a chance

the basics

2008-04-03T07:15:00.000-07:00

It's THE traditional cookbook, at least in my family, and although it says "new" right there on the cover, I've had it for 33 years...(thanks, Mom)...long enough to set it down on a hot burner at least once.

beguiled

2008-02-02T05:25:00.001-08:00

winter wanderings
beguiled by the mystery
lost in wondering

haiku: a kind of beauty

2007-12-23T13:17:00.000-08:00

beautiful blue air
opens wide and swallows me
there is nothing else

random facts

2007-12-23T11:53:00.000-08:00

well....i don't do these...BUT...Pattie tagged me and for Pattie, I'll make an exception! See...I'm not all that rigid after all!

So, here's how this works...i post 7 random tidbits of fascinating info about mememe and then tag others to do the same.

Ahem...
1. I know things sometimes that I have no way of knowing.
2. I have a dream of NO plastic bags. I don't like the way they look, feel, smell or sound and I really don't like the way they look hanging from trees.
3. I love toasted English muffins with lemon curd.
4. I post a photo every day...even when I'm very tired...on my photo blog at a month of todays and would love to have you stop by there whenever you feel like it because I do love sharing what I see.
5. I was once an English teacher and still wonder why people don't get it that (like it or not) we are judged by the quality of our communications, including spelling and grammar.
6. I have a day job where I'm valued, have a really good boss and spend way too many hours.
7. I'm working on an outline for a class I'm hoping to offer in 2008...whew, I said it aloud.

and now it's your turn...if you choose to participate:

Cheryl of the magical mandalas
Mat of many talents
daisies at pluck the petals...generous creator of december views

The way it works: In a post on your blog, link to the person who tagged you (that would be me) and share 7 random and/or weird things about yourself...or make them up(!)...who would know? Then tag 3 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs, along with
"the way it works." Let each person know that they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog. Hope you find some fun with this.

chocolate haiku

2007-12-11T05:39:00.000-08:00

chocolate dark as night
no nuts, no fruit, no caramel
heaven served straight up

try your hand at haiku...
go see one deep breath haiku

paradox: rose in winter

2007-12-02T19:32:00.001-08:00

the prompt this week at inspire me thursday is "paradox."

here's my apparent contradiction, a rose bowed down by a layer of snow.

grateful

2007-11-25T09:19:00.000-08:00

the prompt at inspire me thursday is gratitude, which brought this thought: i try to find the good in whatever moment i'm in, but there's no denying that autumn (for me) is a season of richness and i am grateful for it.

loneliness : isolation : solitude

2007-11-10T03:38:00.000-08:00

loneliness contracts
isolation suffocates
solitude unwinds

the prompt this week at One Deep Breath Haiku is "loneliness."

out into the night

2007-10-30T05:54:00.000-07:00

It's Halloween...
time to get all dressed up
go out into the night
and get yourself a treat!

see more at inspire me thursday's exceptional web site

haiku: closeness

2007-10-27T06:13:00.000-07:00

morning's yellow light
old faded blue tablecloth
toast crumbs, tea and thee

inspired by one deep breath haiku.

contemplating flight

2007-10-09T06:53:00.001-07:00

waiting when it's time to wait
flying when it's time to fly

intimacy

2007-09-30T00:45:00.001-07:00

air to breathe, room to grow... allowing space for us both to be
who we are in this moment
and in the next

2007-09-23T15:13:00.000-07:00

here's the source photo -- the exterior wall of the post office at 3rd & union. i added a range of colors, played with the contrast and added the character for "life." Click here for the end result...and thanks for being interested.

squares

2007-09-23T15:04:00.000-07:00

the challenge this week at inspire me thursday is squares. here's what i saw.

for a closer look at the process, click here.

silenced bird

2007-09-16T12:40:00.001-07:00

this little bird has a scarlet ribbon tied around her beak, but all her magic visionings are finding other ways to fly free and one day soon she'll slip off that ribbon...what a day that will be!

go see more artist trading cards at inspire me thursday, where birds grow wings & fly.

and then give yourself a double treat...explore Seena Frost's Soul Collage process and Cheryl Finley's Soul Collage workshops.

one cup, one bowl

2007-09-14T08:30:00.000-07:00

one cup, one bowl
spacious empty cupboards leave
more room for being

more haiku in praise of simplicity at one deep breath haiku...go see.

five hindrances

2007-09-09T15:43:00.001-07:00

so...earlier today I read a post at Museologies. The topic? Robert Genn, painter and creator of a twice-weekly email newsletter, writing about five hindrances to finding center -- craving, aversion, sloth, agitation & doubt.

To start, naming them hindrances short circuits my "girl with the baseball bat" and that's a happy moment. Besides that, these thoughts (you did go read the post, right?) parallels "There is Nothing Wrong With You" by Cheri Huber & June Shiver, which has been my bus reading lately. It's one of those pared down, clean and simple treatments of some of the things that keep us from recognizing...or remembering...that we are designed & destined for creative living.

These girls with their designer label totes are not meant to be making a comment about shopping...although that would be fitting. No, they're all about baggage...toting it around or putting it down. I do love those moments when we can see ourselves coming around the bend. And I always welcome the new view.

notes on previous post

2007-09-09T12:39:00.001-07:00

notes: this is the source photo for my previous post, taken from my living room window, then digitally cut into pieces, filtered and put back together with a background I had created digitally from a separate, unrelated photo...thanks for asking!

inspire me thursday: limited palette

2007-09-08T10:51:00.000-07:00

working with a limited palette.
easier said than done...
and another chance to stretch.
Thanks for the ongoing imaginative support from
inspire me thursday.

(for source photo & notes, see next post)

one deep breath haiku: grandparents

2007-09-04T21:59:00.000-07:00

knobby-knuckled hands
and strong, brown-spotted arms
give the finest hugs

inspire me thursday: fun & games

2007-09-03T19:35:00.000-07:00

some of the fun things in my play room

artwords: literature

2007-09-02T10:19:00.000-07:00

This week's prompt at Artwords is literature. Here's Beatrix Potter with Peter Rabbit, one of her many friends. Beatrix lived her life by her own light when it wasn't easy to do so...not sure it is now, actually.

If you have a warm spot in your heart for Peter...or Jemima Puddleduck...or any of the rest of them, read Linda Lear's biography of this admirable woman, Beatrix Potter: A life in Nature, AND see the movie "Miss Potter," sweet, sad, uplifting, inspiring...

studio friday: summer afternoon

2007-08-26T12:32:00.000-07:00

Seattle traffic...a splendid opportunity to practice dissociating which, by the way, is a powerful and practical tool, regardless of what your therapist told you.

Go see more at Studio Friday.

dawn

2007-08-19T22:07:00.000-07:00

a whisper of light
slips across the pre-dawn sky
smoothes back the night

creative blogger award!

2007-08-19T21:43:00.001-07:00

oh boy...look at this!

I have to say, there's such happiness and satisfaction in creating. I'm encouraged and inspired by generous comments from people who live all over the place and visit me here AND I'm extra delighted that Nerd Bunny thought I should share this award. I'm in VERY fine company, indeed! Now I'm on a mission to pass it on...more to come soon.

chinese lantern

2007-08-19T18:37:00.001-07:00

one deep breath haiku: evening

2007-08-08T06:38:00.001-07:00

evening's able hands
rinse the worries from the day
hang it up to dry

inspire me thursday: dear diary

2007-08-05T08:44:00.000-07:00

"A letter from Jilly [Cooper] thanked us for the luncheon party and added that her daily, having done the shopping which included ox's heart for the cat, left a note: 'Your money's in the envelope and your heart's in the freezer.'"

entry from Anthony Powell's diary
September 4 1990

See The Assassin's Cloak: An Anthology of the World's Greatest Diarists
edited by Irene and Alan Taylor

one deep breath haiku: comfort

2007-07-25T21:18:00.001-07:00

smooth white bed linens
cool air from open windows
slip into my dreams

artwords: curls

2007-07-22T18:12:00.001-07:00

the assignment was curls...go see more at artwords

inspire me thursday: goddess

2007-07-21T23:22:00.001-07:00

prompted by the creative imaginations at inspire me thursday...go see.

inspire me thursday: seven

2007-07-07T22:17:00.001-07:00

one deep breath haiku: shadow & light

2007-07-05T06:32:00.000-07:00

straight up noontime sun
flattens light like a pancake
pressed against the ground

but

the low, sideways light
at the thin ends of the day
outshines the flat center

Sunday Scribblings: astrology

2007-07-01T19:09:00.000-07:00

“…the planets do not ‘cause’ specific events any more than the hands of a clock ‘cause’ a specific time. Rather, the planetary positions are indicative of the cosmic state of archetypal dynamics at that time.” Richard Tarnas in Cosmos and Psychic Intimations of a New World View.

In the March/April issue, Resurgence magazine published a review of this new book by Tarnas (30 years in the making). This particular expression of the relationship between planetary movements and human experience appealed to me. He illuminates what, I believe, is the truth at the heart of astrology…that humans and planets are functionaries of a living system. The reviewer (Jordi Pigem) writes, “No deterministic world is espoused here, but a fully open participatory universe, a cosmic web of synchronicities in which microcosm and macrocosm mirror each other.”

Something to think about.

p.s. and if you don't already know about Rob Brezsny, take a look. Messages come from all sorts of places...and, for me, this is one of those places.

p.s.s. moon photo from a month of todays, where you can see what I see.

post 100...

2007-07-01T18:58:00.000-07:00

Seems like I should stop for a second to notice that this is post 100.

Okay, that's long enough.

one deep breath haiku: bugs

2007-06-26T17:02:00.000-07:00

a bug is a bug
but a granddaddy long legs
is a prince on stilts

Sunday Scribblings: I have a secret

2007-06-24T07:32:00.000-07:00

and if I tell you someone’s secret, will I tell someone yours?

secrets must be wrapped
in a blanket of silence
or they fly away

keeping a secret
requires a special talent
suspension of speech

a tasty secret
has a bubbling energy
that lifts the lid off

drop a small secret
into the ear of friend
hope for safekeeping

he told a secret
it flitted from ear to ear
collecting pollen

now that we’ve shared it
will it hold us together
or tear us apart?

one deep breath haiku: wildflowers

2007-06-24T05:55:00.001-07:00

wild range of colors
scattered along the road side
an untamed bouquet

photo: flowers at the bus stop...from my photo blog at a month of todays

inspire me thursday: wood

2007-06-19T05:47:00.001-07:00

birch beauty

inspire me thursday: world traveller

2007-06-09T14:51:00.000-07:00

Thought for a bit about this topic & wasn't sure where I wanted to go. Although I've been to western Europe a few times, world traveler I'm not.

Then I thought about Freya Stark, a traveler and explorer from the early 1900s. If that stirs up any curiosity, try reading "Passionate Nomad." An amazingly bold and wise soul.

And then I thought about the trail of my life and came up with this, a map of my life...so far. The numbers reflect how many years I spent in Pennsylvania (New Castle & Indiana), Kentucky (Wilmore & Beattyville), Michigan (Detroit, Grand Rapids & Ann Arbor), Texas (Dallas), and now Seattle WA. Wonder what's next?

inspire me thursday: roots

2007-06-07T06:09:00.000-07:00

radish roots attended to

one deep breath haiku: architecture

2007-06-07T05:35:00.000-07:00

in the cool dark nave
ancient shadows come to me
speaking through the stone

Architects design spaces. Contractors erect them. People breath life into them.

sunday scribblings: town & country

2007-06-02T19:04:00.000-07:00

town & country: when I’m here I long for there

bare feet on the wooden back porch
trump clickety clack high heels on pavement
morning bird song brings more joy
than the swoosh of the subway doors
bright red tomatoes warm from the sun
outdance the newest cuisine
but all that aside, there's one true must-have
a really good book store close by

inspire me thursday: copy cat

2007-05-28T09:57:00.001-07:00

the prompt at inspire me thursday this week is "copy cat." I like that phrase. It brings back childhood word play. Children have a way of making language musical...which makes it memorable. Lullabies, nursery rhymes, even (or especially) Dr. Seuss.

So here's me, copying me.

one deep breath haiku: common ground

2007-05-28T07:47:00.000-07:00

each breath moves the web
every string moves in concert
no strand stands alone

any two humans
if they're together enough
will find common ground

photo by John Brandow from Yellowstone Digital Slide File, with an adjustment or two from me

post note: this week's prompt at one deep breath haiku links to the web site for Community Bridge. It's heartening to me. Maybe for you, too.

one deep breath haiku: viewpoints

2007-05-21T11:44:00.000-07:00

I remember when
boys looked through holes in fences
to watch the ball game

one curious eye
peers through the hole in the wall
to see what's hidden

to enjoy a bird's eye view
I unfold my cramped wings
and let myself fly

photo: old shed, ellensburg washington

one deep breath haiku: nurturing

2007-05-20T20:30:00.000-07:00

wakening from winter
mother nature rolls over
double checks the clock

sighing and yawning
turns her fur coat inside out
welcomes hopeful seeds

one deep breath haiku: sleep

2007-05-08T22:00:00.000-07:00

every night I leave
every morning I return
but where do I go?

inside my eyelids
movies fill the screen
but what do they mean?

sunday scribblings: ocean

2007-05-05T07:47:00.000-07:00

hundreds of millions of bubbles

Most of us are lured to the seaside…to gaze outward at the absence of
anything man made, to rest our eyes in that open space, and to sink into the
rhythmic sound of the waves. I suspect the rest of us are aliens.

I’m told that the sound of the surf is caused by hundreds of millions of
bubbles bursting as each wave breaks. It’s a sound, I think, that’s both
exuberant and calming. A yogic combination.

When sounds are given careful attention, we find that the ones we consider
pleasant have a regular pattern of sound waves and those we consider noise,
an irregular one. I want to follow this line away from the city and the language
of scientific analysis to see what the wind in the trees might have to say.

So, thinking about the ocean waves and the regularity of their surrendering
onto the sand, brings me to one of those “of course” recognitions. Of course,
the sound of the waves is calming. And of course, the repetitiveness of a
lullaby lulls. Of course, steady drumming entrances.

The older I get, the more I fall in love with the simplicity of truths that
lie just below the flurried surface, the ones that pop through when I sit
down to listen.

and, thanks to synchronicity...here's a haiku written for last week's prompt at one deep breath.

one deep breath haiku: the sea

2007-05-02T06:50:00.000-07:00

exultant sea song
congregation of bubbles
exploding with joy

Sunday Scribblings: hidden identity

2007-04-18T18:17:00.000-07:00

artist in a day job -- or -- sheep in wolf's clothing

peering out
slyly
from one curled-under edge
of a heavy red wool hood
a quick flash
of a crafty twinkle
in an eye
barely
seen
and
yet
some sense of energy bubbling
just
below
the subterfuge
fancy dancing sparks
ready for the night-time frolic
when the work day is done

one deep breath haiku: energy

2007-04-17T19:18:00.000-07:00

slipstream of our thoughts
holds aloft the world we see
until we let go

this week's theme, energy,
is a happy reminder of the nature
of thoughts (they are energy)
and the magic of taking the wheel.
Being thoughtful about my thoughts.

this is the sky I saw one morning this week on my way to the kitchen

one deep breath haiku: bridges

2007-04-11T06:53:00.000-07:00

we inch back from shouted hurts
separation spanned
patched together here and there

See what other imaginations saw at one deep breath haiku.

photo: my favorite footbridge at the zoo on a slightly snowy day

no news really is good news

2007-04-06T22:26:00.000-07:00

Sunday Scribbling's writing prompt for the week is "the news."

The news gives me the blues
not
"my guy's got a new girl" blues
not
"there's a hole in my shoe and it's raining out there" blues
not
"oh, it feels so good to feel this bad" blues
but
the "I don't want to hear about it" blues
not
the husband catching his wife with the UPS man in his own driveway
not
the robber nabbed in the parking lot because his girlfriend dropped her rabbit
not
the surprise that adjustable rate mortgages do get adjusted
not
the angry gun owner who is so horribly sorry...afterwards
not
for
me.

The world has plenty of sane, intelligent, thinking people. Paying much attention to the news would make that darn hard for me to remember.

one deep breath haiku: one-line poems

2007-03-27T17:10:00.000-07:00

If you're up for having your
writing practice continually stretched,
take a look at one deep breath haiku...
sometimes haiku,
sometimes fibonacci sequences,
sometimes a surprise.

This week we're seeing how much
poetic expression can fit into just
one line.

photo: just one bird I saw on Sunday

time and attention pat down my wild heart's cowlicks

scrounging through a dusty trunk for a scrap of leftover love

perfection, aloof ice queen

dry silence separating fear and hope

one deep breath haiku: 3 haikus about breathing

2007-03-20T19:47:00.000-07:00

it amazes me
that I can get so crazy
I forget to breathe

forgetting to breathe
should set off a wild alarm
but we're used to it

sink down deep inside
clouds of thoughts drift past my eyes
as the breath breathes me

for a breath of fresh air, click here.

Sunday Scribblings: inspiration

2007-03-18T20:25:00.000-07:00

It seems to me that inspiration is all about making connections…between what’s disparate and between what’s similar. It’s about remembering, forgetting, combining, separating, sensing and knowing. It comes through words, pictures, imagined situations and real ones. Ideas come freely from inner and outer spaces. There is no end, they’re always there waiting to be taken in, adopted.

So, why would anyone ever have a “dry spell?” Why would there ever be a time that felt tight and empty?

The truth is that the source never goes away, but we do. We close down, armor and protect. We scatter ourselves into pieces. We fall asleep or even into a coma. We forget to breathe. All the ideas are still there, flying around us, but we’ve squeezed our eyes shut and worry that we've gone blind.

Here’s a wild idea. If you want to see a dramatic change in your creative life, give away your TV. Did you just gasp? You may have. It’s a big action. It's an inspired action. What do you think you might lose? What do you think you might gain? Next time you feel like doing something daring, put it in the closet for a while. See what happens!

one deep breath haiku: stillness & calm

2007-03-16T19:59:00.000-07:00

dropping all my selves
into one wide open bowl
sit still, become whole

Sunday Scribblings: dream journey

2007-03-10T03:55:00.000-08:00

dream journey
night time ride
words and thoughts morphed into visions
messages from within
spinning my story back to myself
telling the tale I don't know

one deep breath haiku: earth, dirt, mud

2007-03-10T03:05:00.000-08:00

I prefer my dirt
smooth, solid, hard-packed and cool
firm beneath my feet

one deep breath haiku: colorful

2007-03-03T15:43:00.000-08:00

once shiny dancers
now recline in dusty beds
old kaleidoscope

Sunday Scribblings: puzzled

2007-02-25T10:32:00.000-08:00

patterns and shapes
tumbling over each other
angling for supremacy
colors arguing with hues
and tones and shades and values
riddles of scraps
raising a discordant din
the rag bag

calmed by a cool eye
quieted by a practiced hand
coaxed into harmony and
corralled inside a border
settled down
disparity stitched into whole cloth

this excellent quilt is the handiwork of a talented (and unknown to me) artist in Guatemala

studio friday: favorite quotations

2007-02-23T19:43:00.000-08:00

My library has shelves of notebooks that are full of quotes squirreled away over a lot of years. Choosing a favorite...can't do that, but in a conversation on the phone this morning with a friend, I got this new one. Thanks, friend...for the quote and for sharing the hope in your heart.

photo: Lucien in the movie Amelie

one deep breath poetry: spice

2007-02-19T19:55:00.000-08:00

blink
wink
breathe in
break the spell
shake in an odd spice
let stale old choices fall away

It's good fun every once in a while to turn things upside down...or inside out. Try a new route home, switch toothpaste brands, write in green ink for a while. Maybe even write a poem in a fibonacci sequence instead of a haiku.

one deep breath haiku: shelter

2007-02-13T06:23:00.000-08:00

lizard mimics rock
rabbit turns from brown to white
cryptic resemblance

man speaks chameleon
shades of meaning color truth
safety of disguise

John Singer Sargent, well known for his serious, formal portraits, also did this...for himself.

Hermit by John Singer Sargent

heart art

2007-02-11T10:53:00.000-08:00

hearts break...
and we stitch them back together

one deep breath haiku: twilight

2007-02-05T21:20:00.000-08:00

mother dusk tucks in the sun
turns the light down low
brings a night light, silver moon

Sunday Scribblings: goodbye

2007-02-05T06:01:00.000-08:00

handful of kites
anchored into the sand
the colors of all my past loves
pick up each one in turn
watch it dance with the wind
love its colors again for a while
with an opening hand let it rise on its own
wave goodbye as it floats out of sight
feel the stillness sit down
by my side in the sand
feel the space of the wide open sky

one deep breath haiku: roots

2007-02-01T07:05:00.000-08:00

rough grey wind blusters
thin young willow bends to earth
lives to stand again

Sunday Scribblings: chronicles

2007-01-28T07:58:00.000-08:00

Chronicle of a day

No alarm
just eyes re-admitting the outside world.

In the briefest of moments there's an open space
before the mind unfurls a tendril to wrap around a touchstone...
what day is it? what are my obligations?

Rolling to the edge
feet reach for the floor,
shuffle back into the collective dream.

Follow the routine
each step in order
steadily
resolutely
moving toward the outside world.

Collision with the shared air
the friction of conflicting realities
over-heating the shrinking space
losing the edges of separation
infected by otherness.

Retreating into a thin and brittle shell
easily abraded by curious scrapings
Then, reminded by the tension
to resign the polar position

Stepping up to ride the seesaw of outside inside
slipping and sliding on the slick wet wood
eventually finding a spot in the center.

Holding a dynamic stillness
flexed for minute tunings
balancing out the motion
until the day winds down
and I can slide back
off the ride.

2007-01-27T13:41:00.000-08:00

the best thing about being an artist is that you see art everywhere.

one deep breath haiku: process

2007-01-23T00:15:00.000-08:00

willful as the falling rain
it comes when it comes
make your rain barrel ready

Clarissa Pinkola Estés (poet, writer, teacher, and more) describes the creative force as a flow that finds "the channels that exist in us." I like this recognition that we ALL have an internal haven for creative inspiration...a built-in receptor. She goes on to talk about the importance (and magic) of being ready.

That's how it works for me. I'm always taking in ideas, a perpetual note-taker. When it's time to bring something out, I balance "wait and see" with "start and continue."

Incidentally, the quotes above are from her book, Women Who Run with the Wolves, which is also for women who relax on the porch.

For more on this, and plenty of other "good stuff," go to Soul Food Cafe.

Sunday Scribblings: let's pretend

2007-01-21T07:58:00.000-08:00

Reasonosis: a condition of the central nervous system, centralized in the brain, involving dangerous swelling in the left hemisphere of the brain, caused by sustained isolation from the right hemisphere. If untreated, can result in loss of psychological balance and distorted perceptions of reality.

Antidote: escapism in moderately dispensed quantities.

Somewhere along the line, reason ascended from ruling monarch to god and we lost our balance. We toppled into a most unhelpful habit…isolating one kind of thinking from another.

Maybe it happened as we began to amass a clinical understanding of what the brain does and how it goes about it. Maybe, like a child with a new toy, we tossed aside the old, familiar wisdom about the realm of imaginative wanderings that lead to such discoveries.

To be fair, imaginative discovery is on the accepted value list, as long as it serves commerce. Imaginative wandering, however, is more suspect. A bit of a tight spot, since the wandering must precede the discovery.

In any event, we need to pull ourselves together.

Reading fiction, any genre that takes us out of our analytical minds, is a healthy antidote to obsessive rationality. As we read, the characters take up residence, and long after the reading ends, their inhabitation continues. They are real. They are made up. Real is made up and made up is real. Much to my delight, we seem to be waking up to that remembering. And that reminds us, within earshot of many loud voices claiming otherwise, that made up and real are not separate.

Sometimes an old friend has the best words. Here’s William Wordsworth

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

poetry thursday: one line's a given

2007-01-17T20:56:00.000-08:00

At the poetry thursday website this week we're writing a poem incorporating a line from someone else's poem. A special thank you to the poet at beloved dreamer for sharing the inspiration of this one evocative line:

sound a sound so sweet it wraps around my heart

and this is where it went

acoustic traffic jam numbs my ears
the mayhem muddles my nerves
but a silence summoned and sustained can
sound a sound so sweet it wraps around my heart
it hums away my thoughts and taps my fears apart
easy rhythm calmly rocking
rest notes bring me ease

one deep breath haiku: reflections

2007-01-16T05:27:00.000-08:00

warm color echoes
bright breast to brighter berries
nature reflecting

This found me last Sunday morning on my way back from the store. I was focused on the berries for several shots before I even saw the bird. I think he was very, very cold, but as I backed away, he did seem to enjoy those berries.

Sunday Scribblings: ideas

2007-01-14T15:05:00.000-08:00

little black books with elastic bands
full of unhatched eggs
pull one out and roll it around
warm it up in my hands
watch for an opening
listen for a peep
start to pick at an edge
if nothing is happening
if no one's at home
let it sit, give it time to expand

one deep breath haiku: subtle change

2007-01-11T01:04:00.000-08:00

This week's prompt at http://onebreathpoetry.blogspot.com/ is "subtle change." Here's what occurred to me...the similarity between sinking into a deep space in meditation and the so-called final slipping away. What the mystics call "little deaths" is something I've been thinking about lately. And when I do, I slow down and relax.

spaces between breaths
lengthening, stretching into
one last in between

poetry thursday: cliche

2007-01-10T23:52:00.000-08:00

long-sleeved turtleneck to show no skin
soft-soled shoes to make no sound
ski mask, gloves, various tools
dark...all of it dark
slip out the door
into the night
dressed to kill

Studio Blog: graffiti

2007-01-07T20:24:00.000-08:00

The prompt this week at http://artwordsclan.blogspot.com/ is "Graffiti." This is a photo I took of the back of a building in Fremont, and then added a bit to it. Now that I'm looking at it, I'm thinking of the oft-quoted Goethe:

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.”

Sunday Scribblngs: kissing

2007-01-07T17:17:00.000-08:00

dry and light
hard and heavy
slippery, smooth and fast
airy, scary, sometimes wary
kisses of my past

photos by Marrie Bot, Alfred Eisenstaedt, R. Young

one deep breath haiku: begin

2007-01-01T11:59:00.000-08:00

every high tide goes back out
leaves the sand swept clean
live, let go, and live some more.

twenty years from now

2007-01-01T06:11:00.001-08:00

Twenty years is not that long

I’ve spent some time recently looking at photos of people’s faces…old people’s faces. (It’s okay to say old people. They know that they’re old.*) The photo of Robert Penn Warren in my last post and this one of Nadine Gordimer. Joan Didion’s recent photos in support of her book “The Year of Magical Thinking,” plus many others.

Then, early this morning when I looked into the bathroom mirror, I was taken by the realization that what I'm doing now will color the light from my face twenty years from now. The way I live the next twenty years will determine what truth is told on my twenty-years-from-now face.

And twenty years is not that long.

To be doubly clear, this isn’t about Erno Lazlo, Oil of Olay or even Clinique. It’s not about keeping the lines from forming and it’s definitely not about having them stretched tight surgically. It’s about infusing those lines with worthy living.

So, being possessed with such an intent, what’s required?

Listen for my voice and heed it.
Be peacefully brave.
Take the next step.
Be kind and laugh often.
Rest, reflect, contemplate and act.
Keep breathing.

Not a comprehensive list, but a reasonable summary…and a good start. And that’s what today is all about. New Year’s Day 2007. Another round of seasons to be lived. Another of the next twenty years. And it’s not that long.

My wish for us all...
eyes-wide-open growth, without resistance, into the most worthy age...this one.
Happy New Year!

*in shying away from referring to someone as “old,” we condone and comply with the unspoken, cultural viewpoint that youth is all. For another time and another post.

one deep breath haiku: aging

2006-12-28T06:24:00.000-08:00

trails through all the every days
impressed in a face
collected truths showing through

photo of Robert Penn Warren
by Jerry Bauer

It's coming on Christmas

2006-12-25T21:07:00.000-08:00

As Christmas approached, it seemed that everywhere I turned, I ran into Joni Mitchell’s song “River.”

It’s coming on Christmas, they’re cutting down trees
They’re putting up reindeer
And singing songs of joy and peace
I wish I had a river to skate away on

The words fit my mood like a well-made pair of fine calfskin gloves, smoothed on without a wrinkle.

I could feel the cool air coming up off the ice, I could hear the soft scrape of my skate blades. I could even see my back in a long wool coat disappearing down the river into the darkness.

I wanted to slip away to somewhere crisp and cold and quiet. Somewhere I could see the stars and hear the deep silence of a snowy night in the woods.

And in that silence to come close again to what is real and what matters. To hope to let myself feel the great sadness of living in constricted places and to stay in touch with that sadness just long enough to choose a more wide open space.

one deep breath haiku: storms

2006-12-19T06:03:00.001-08:00

stand in the darkness
at the rattling window
ask the trees to stay

poetry thursday: streets I have known

2006-12-16T06:33:00.000-08:00

unfolding an old map

carefully unfolding the way back
to places of my past heart
fingertip tracing the path
across the soft fraying at the folds
touching each turn
coming back home

click on the map to take a closer look at life's paths

Sunday Scribblings: anticipation

2006-12-16T05:46:00.000-08:00

Anticipation makes me think of

= Carly Simon
= that tiny moment just before lips touch
= how the music changes in a movie to let me know when to cover my eyes
= pre-living a vacation while I’m reading the travel books and poring over the maps
= sensing that the car in the next lane is about to move over
= feeling the tension slide off my shoulders while the bath water is still running
= glancing around for the daffodils when I smell that new, earthy warmth in the air
= ants

When something happens over and over, anticipation turns into expectation. Things run on automatic pilot, letting me focus on other things. I expect:
= the next step to be there as I lower my foot toward it
= cold air to meet me when I open the refrigerator door
= a room to light up when I flip the switch
= the engine to turn over when I turn the key

But other times, when anticipation becomes automatic and turns into expectation, requirements creep in and the fun leaks out.
= requiring a good-night kiss
= expecting that a gift will be given on a certain day
= needing the trip to follow the careful plan

Anticipation is about the new and fresh before it turns into the every day.

It’s also about escape, which somewhere along the line has mistakenly been turned into a negative concept. While I value the wisdom of being in the present, too much of a good thing is deadening. The imagination needs to slip free from the here and now. A little bit of wandering off keeps the soul young.

Give yourself a holiday. Take some time to anticipate something lovely and delicious…some time to dream of what can be.

one deep breath haiku: container

2006-12-12T20:05:00.000-08:00

sealed tupperware heart
holding in and holding out
admitting nothing

illustration is from the Smithsonian
with a little added heart from me

Sunday Scribblings: the last hour

2006-12-03T07:02:00.000-08:00

For the last hour, I’ve been sitting in my nice, warm bed with my laptop on my lap. My thoughts have been about Mom (pronounced Mum) and her legacy.

The weekly prompt at http://onedeepbreath.blogspot.com/ is legacy this week. It took me back to a dairy farm in western Pennsylvania, sitting at the supper table with my parents and four sisters, being repeatedly coached in table manners. Of course, it all seemed pointless to me at the time. When you’re six…or sixteen…who really cares if you put your elbows on the table or grab for the last ear of sweet corn?

Now that time and experiences (and thoughtful observation) have brought a broader perspective, I “get it.”

Like it or not, we’re evaluated and categorized by our behaviors.

It’s fine (although limiting) to think it doesn’t matter. And if no social exchange is involved in one’s life, it seems that might be right. But if you have the need to go the grocery store, to ride a bus, drive a car or have one repaired, walk down a sidewalk that’s being used by others, see a doctor, buy a postage stamp (you get the idea), good sense and good manners smooth the way, removing obstacles, opening doors.

I don’t pretend to know what lies beyond this life…but I do hope that somehow she knows that my left hand is in my lap, I’m sitting up straight, I don’t talk over other people, and I understand why it matters.

one deep breath haiku: legacy

2006-12-03T06:05:00.001-08:00

ladylike on the farm

learned at her table
to sit straight, left hand on lap
to take turns talking

to serve your guests first
to not wear out your welcome
to send thank you notes

beyond good manners
to care about others’ needs
and to just be nice

My mother's many repetitions eventually took root. Now, when she's been somewhere else for more than 25 years, her considerate (and considerable) good manners and good sense continue to add grace to the world through her five well-mannered, caring daughters.

We're grateful for her diligence and her dedication to us. These days, when the spotlight is increasingly on what tears down, her legacy is a continuing influence toward what lifts up.

Thanks, Mum.

one deep breath haiku: friends

2006-11-12T21:00:00.000-08:00

bending in the storm
strong, old, deep-rooted willow
umbrella of love
constant, sheltering cover,
faithful sister, steadfast friend

Sunday Scribblings: who's driving this bus?

2006-11-12T08:38:00.000-08:00

in response to Diane Ackerman's quote: "I don't want to be a passenger in my own life."

Do I want to be the passenger in my own life? Seems the expected answer would be no, I want to be the driver, but I think I want to be the car.

Although I’m not crazy about the car metaphor, given the choice (and I have been), I want to be my life. Not a user of my life, not driver, not passenger, but actually be my life.

Maybe it’s the viewing point of my age…not yet the wise old woman (still collecting ingredients for that stew)…but experienced enough to have selected some seasoned perspectives.

If my life is a vehicle to be driven or ridden, I want to be the car. I want to be my life, not separate from it, not its trainer or tamer or observer.

The push to move forward from where we are, to take our destiny into our own hands, tensely clutching the steering wheel just adds more tightness to the movement of the world, and as it turns, our lives.

I’m leaning away from thinking of my life as something to be moved from one place to another. Life just is, wherever we are and whatever we’re doing. Experiences come to us and we live them. By doing so, we alter ourselves. We become more or less alive, we expand or contract.

No, I don’t want to be a passenger in my own life and I don’t want to be the driver either.

Is the answer to every question something about balance?

one deep breath haiku: unseen

2006-11-04T10:39:00.000-08:00

raucous car horns, surging crowds
rush to get ahead
the scarlet leaves fall unseen

but

sitting still by the curtain
slowed down into now
life’s source spans the divide

Sunday Scribblings: morning

2006-11-04T07:20:00.000-08:00

Some call themselves morning people. I’m one of them.

Is it genetic? Based on what I know of my four sisters, I’d say no. Then is it environmental? Again, for the same reason, doesn’t seem so. Is it tied to a general tendency towards optimism? Unscientific perhaps, but it makes sense to me.

There have been few mornings of my life that I haven’t woken up with some sense of newness and potential. It’s a fresh start every day and the time seems to stand out ahead of me full of possibilities.

There’s something delightful about the solitude, the “all mine” moments. There’s space to expand silently into and see what comes.

I make a list, lining up my selections, mapping out what I’ll make of the day, who I’ll be. It’s the luxury of choice that attracts me, the wide spectrum of ingredients, like a dark morning sky still full of stars. It’s creation…choosing elements to draw together into a new and fresh combination…like selecting spices for a soup…or colors for a painting…or yarns for a pair of socks…attitudes for a day.

I smile remembering my father waking me at 515a (at my request) when he headed to the barn to milk his Holsteins. I’d come downstairs in my pajamas, collect my books and sit down at the dining room table to do my homework. This was my choice. My mind was fresh, the house was quiet, and when I set out for school, my work was clear to me, not skinned over by a night of sleep.

Lifelong habits. These days, I’m far removed from the farm, but I often wake up at 4 and rarely later than 6. I’m alert and ready to begin. I still prefer tackling a project first thing whether it’s writing this piece, making something in my workroom, doing the laundry or just catching an early bus to get to my office while it’s still quiet.

Morning is for me and I am for morning.

one deep breath haiku prompt: mystery

2006-10-25T12:41:00.001-07:00

dark blue place of space
tiny pinpoints bursting fire
moon lumbering by