How I Feel

October 7, 2017 § 13 Comments

Christinasworld

 

How I feel when I breathe in that smell of rain-soaked earth.

When I drink too much and my voice comes out too loud.

When I touch my father’s false teeth.

When my mother’s eyes flickered open and stared at me the moment before she died.

When I close the door of my studio and think I’ll never paint again.

The warm lick of my daughter’s dog.

That silence in the middle of a conversation which I always want to fill and wish I didn’t.

When I regret I am in love.

When I get away with a small white lie.

When I have my hair cut and get bored listening to the gossip.

When the doorbell rings, or the phone, and I don’t feel like answering it.

When I don’t look forward to him coming home, because although I love him dearly I want to be by myself.

When I dream of my dead brother and we smile at one another and I know he’s not really gone at all. I just can’t see him.

And when a poem comes and I don’t have a pencil, so I race home holding it tight before I lose it. Sometimes it’s too fast and slippery and it escapes.

How I feel.

*

 

 

Image of ‘Christina’s World’ courtesy the estate of Andrew Wyeth

 

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Today’s Quote

July 21, 2016 § Leave a comment

Soul Gatherings

picasso

I am always doing that which I cannot do,
in order that I may learn how to do it.

~ Pablo Picasso ~
__________________

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new weavings

May 16, 2016 § 8 Comments

IMG_0283

A few followers have expressed an interest in my weaving.

 

  • I use a contemporary Japanese Saori loom, a work of art in itself.
  • I make scarves, shawls, runners, and wall hangings.
  • I use cotton, wool of any kind including yak, camel and cashmere, farmed and wild silk, bamboo and any other odd material I can find like hemp, soya, rose fibre, etc.
  • All the delicate pieces are woven using an ultra fine silk thread made in Japan which is wrapped around very fine stainless steel. It produces translucent and malleable pieces which can be bent into shape.

 

 

Here’s a sample of what I’ve been up to:

  • All these weavings are on their way to various exhibitions and perhaps will then be sold.
  • I hope to have a website dedicated to my work soon ūüôā
  • And thank you, Chloe the wonderful dancer, for reminding me to do this! xxx

and thanks for looking…

~~~

wabi sabi

April 25, 2016 § 5 Comments

Leonard-Koren-quote_imperfection

Best cat commercial EVER…from Resa HERDING CATS

October 10, 2015 § 6 Comments

Hilarious!

Rethinking Life

Resa says:
October 9, 2015 at 9:52 pm (Edit)
LOL I luv it, too! have you ever seen the ‚ÄúCat Herding‚ÄĚ video? It‚Äôs up this alley! LOL https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wz5vwUM_uuM

Thank you so much Resa…love this:)

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On Death, Dying and Depression: Dealing with our Darkest Days.

September 26, 2015 § Leave a comment

Gin Getz

~

Finding a bright side to a dark situation.

Going with it. Allowing it.  Honoring it.  Moving beyond not in spite of, but because of.

Because we can learn the greatest lessons from our darkest days.

This is the natural cycle of life. And death.

~

This is not what I meant to write about this week.  A whole essay on another topic open on my desk top ready to share with you.  It can wait.  This came up. And so we go with it. Ride the waves of life. For to miss out is to lose those greatest lessons.  This is living.

~

Here in the high country, rain and hail continue. Clear mornings bring heavy frost. Clouds amass by mid day and the sky is awash in striations of deep grey by afternoon. Maybe in evening after a good downpour, the sun will break through far to the…

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Thursday Re-View — Echoes of Memory

September 17, 2015 § Leave a comment

Beautiful sentiment, beautiful writing.

Soul Gatherings

He lumbered.

He was tall, rangy, with huge hands, a well-tended beard, piercing blue eyes, with lips that could smirk on a moment’s notice. And he lumbered from side to side when he walked, dropping his feet purposely with each step. His white habit and black wool scapular, tied with a leather cincture, swayed back and forth like a pendulum released.

Trappist

He was a monk. A Trappist monk. He was Brother Steven. And I miss him, even though he’s still alive.

I met him long ago while on retreat in Virginia, a time of emotional upheaval as I went through my divorce. The first divorce in my family. It was a true retreat from the world, and a time of respite for mind, body and spirit. Each day was silent, a time of prayer, reflection, discernment, and attending their hours of Divine Office. Meals were provided, attended to in silence…

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