November Morning

I happened to be walking

on a dark November morning, when the mist was so thick
it
forced me to breathe...


Through the clouded air, I saw my yesterday ghosts,
I reached to grasp their hands.

I greet them with a shy smile, and say
"My, it has been a while"
"Where have you been, why did you leave?"

They shake their heads sadly and whisper
"Us,
you no longer
need"
I turn and walk away,
as breeze softly glides by me...
and yet again,
I am forced to breathe.

Wordless

Listen To The Silence
by Wallace Dean LaBenne
Listen to the prattle raging in your mind.

Who can fight the battle of the double bind?

Listen to the shadow hiding in your shade.

Who can walk the meadowas the masquerade?

Listen to the murmur pulsing in your heart.

Who can beat the tambour for the flying start?

Listen to the insight taping in your head.

Who can find the delight with the prior dread?

Listen to the portent looming in your hope.

Who can scale the ascentof the slippery slope?

Listen to the silence muting in your soul.

Who can rank the violenceon the totem pole?

Could you....

Self doubt, does it sneak up on you?

Does it steal your smile?

And make you want to crawl back under the covers..

to hide for a very long while?

Where it is safe, it is warm and there are

no eyes,

no opinions,

no one better

no one worse.

Or does it spark something else...

Do you throw the thought aside,

as if it is a useless, careless voice?

And stand up tall, move on,

be stronger..

not comparing yourself to one, or all,

thinking you are wonderful,

no matter how big,

how small?

Ah, so yes, these thoughts creep up on me. They sometimes totally grab on, and other times, yes I can manage to throw them to the curb. I don't know how you are, but I do put a fair amount of pressure on myself to be better..be stronger. Most times I thrive on this, other times...I have to step back and just give it a break, re-evaluate. Though always in the back of my mind..be a better artist, be a better person..be stronger..run faster..and I must say I love doing all of that! But sometimes if just feels downright tiring..and I set it aside. I think I will set it aside for now...at least for the rest of the night...

it's like dancing

It's like dancing,

My greedy soul longs for it,

my thoughts constantly turning and turning

gliding, floating..

orchestrating the next leap, the next move..

waiting for that soft landing,

where a blanket of comfort awaits.

Arriving there, the visions become as one..

no longer are they miles away,

time is no longer endless..

it stands still,

while I begin to

dance.

So perhaps I am being a bit melodramatic. These are my thoughts on art, on creating. If I am not creating something, I want to be creating something. The time seems endless until I can get back to it, the clock turns oh so slowly...

Always in my heart

So long ago, two little girls would giggle as their dad tickled their stomach, as they tried to jump on his back for a horseback ride....They loved him and their mom, and didn't realize that their parents were barely out of their childhood themselves, and how it was not going to be their destiny to grow together in the same home.

A fisher price school house packed, evil knievel put in a suitcase, a memory of watching Sonny and Cher while sitting behind my mom and dad, cuddled on the couch late at night..tucked away in my mind to pull out years later.

Life goes on, the little girls grow. They don't see their dad too much, but they always miss him.

He probably didn't know how much.

I see his name in the admissions of the hospital that were listed in the paper. A phone call, go see him quick, there isn't much time.

There was a little time left though, for him to go home, for us to visit, for him to ask how what we had planned for our future, to want to hold on to every piece of knowledge of us that he could grasp, for him to regret, to apologize for what he thought he had done wrong in life.

At the age of 35, he passed away...24 years ago this week.

I didn't grow up with him in my life, but I sometimes grieve for the chance we never had as I became an adult. I thought of him when I heard the first cry of my oldest child, and asked him silently if we has watching. I hope he can see how beautiful his grandchildren are, and how much one of them looks just like him.

I love you dad, you are always in my heart.

Amber waves of grain

Amber waves of grain, the land of the free...

To the men and women who make this possible,

the ones who don't know if there will be a tomorrow when they go to work,

but to work, they still go.

The ones who have done so in the past, the ones who came home,

and the one who didn't.

Thank you.

Dear blog

Hi again. I don't hang out here often enough lately.

I am too preoccupied doing the above. So sorry that I forget to show you, my dear blog,

what I have been up to. You deserve more, you were here first, before flickr, before facebook,
before CS3. I will be better, I will visit you more. I will pay more attention to you, my friend, my confidant...

seeing in black and white

Sometimes you see so much better in black and white.

You see the shapes, the sizes, the shadows

the lines, the edges


the light and the dark, the contrast, the brightness

the emotion, the feeling.