A little rain must fall…
I don’t think my little friend is concerned with getting wet.
This post is part of Linda Hill’s prompt #1LinerWednesday.
A little rain must fall…
I don’t think my little friend is concerned with getting wet.
This post is part of Linda Hill’s prompt #1LinerWednesday.
Come and get it!
This post is brought to you by Linda Hill’s SoCS prompt for today, “nuts”. Visit her blog page for the rules and link to other great posts!
And if you need a beer and some time talk , stop by Dan’s place. The bar is serving up some new appetizers!
These are older images that called for a revisit with today’s prompt. Happy #free48 everyone!
Dear Lord I can’t believe it. After weeks of being too
e) couldn’t get into my account!
I finally remembered the secret password to get into my own space once again. But, now what to do with such freedom? Since returning from our wonderful trip to visit all the grandchildren Life has been so hectic, yet without exploration, sans excursions and short on inspiration. Sigh..
hoping anticipating new adventures coming up soon that I can share with you. For now we are in flux, transition and eyeball deep in moving boxes. Stay tuned, for I miss sharing beautiful things with you all. Meanwhile, I am trying to catch up on blog posts but forgive me for being so far behind. I’m still here, still love your words and images, and am still seeking the small and mighty miracles in this insane world we call life.
Some of the more famous people buried in Wyuka Cemetery are George Starkweather and Gordon McRae.
We didn’t get to see every marker but my little buddy helped me to find many very interesting headstones. It was beautiful and nippy there in Cornhusker land. What a grand time seeing everyone.
I always feel like the silence of the cemetery welcomes life and laughter with open arms, like they are saying,
“Thanks for remembering us here.”
Stay tuned…I’ll be back when life slows down to a dull roar. Meanwhile, a word from Ghandi…
We need to get this straight. I will affirm here and now that I have felt less than inspired in the last week. I’m working on the novel-still…maybe forever..but really loving the progress. It is just not something one can easily do at the end of a work day or week, popping from pragmatic, ordered thinking into fanatstical dreaming reality.
I mean I usually can, but lately the world has just felt so…heavy. I affirm I am not a fan of old Man Winter. And I love men in general. Just not sadistsic, self indulgent, harsh and cold troublemaking men. Just why Mother Nature has him in her circle is beyond me. But then, taste in friends is always quite subjective isn’t it? It takes all kinds of people to make a world. If we were all alike we would either be hugely bored or constantly fighting ourselves.
I affirm that life is wearying at times, and when I was younger I held older people in the highest regard, seeking their wisdom, understanding and encouragement. For the most part I am exposed to situations in which older people are viewed and treated as outdated, stupid or at best uninformed, and gulity of some heinous crime of destruction that most of them are completely unaware. Perhaps the crime is just being older than 30. I thank God each day my children are not this way.
When I was in the Christian church growing up, we were taught to always put yourself in others’ shoes, to empathize and express compassion. There was a humbleness in being a child of God. I suppose there has always been a double edged sword aspect to religion..any of them, just as there is duality of spirit within each of us. I just know that I would rather stand quietly alone, with my hand in His, than stand with a mob of angry, accusatory, self righteous finger pointers whose main goal is to be the best, the biggest and the chosen. Since when did being a Christian become a popularity contest?
I affirm that God’s greatest gifts exist all around us, that peace can be found in the tiniest miracle of life, that entertainment is free in Mother Nature if you just take a moment to breathe and to feel her presence. Soul healing does not exist in a book or a prayer. It is in your own hands, the ones given to you in this life. Perhaps we should stop shouting, ”God, save us!”
Maybe it’s time to whisper, “God help us to save ourselves.” We have to stop making our own messes then blaming everyone else for them, which includes..
No, honey, the devil did not make you do it. We all have a choice and the light and dark exists in every one of us.
I affirm that when I love someone it is forever, even if you choose to cast me aside. Anyone who has ever found a place in my heart will remain there forever, and my family means more to me than anything. If they hurt, I hurt. When they are in pain, it is mine. When they are happy, my world is perfect. I know no other way.
(A light tap on any photo will show the caption)
I love the friends I have made here, in this magical realm of blogging, where like minds can meet and feel less alone, share ideas and laughs. We all do such a wonderful job of encouraging, lifting one another up and being there. Thank you to any and all who have done this for me. And if you feel like a beer check out Dan’s frozen corner of the world. Now, he has some Winter tales…
I affirm that I am ready for Spring, budding flowers, buzzing insects and balmy breezes. Meanwhile, we can always dream..in fact I must insist that you dream with me, or we might not see her face again!
What do you see when you step outside?
When I saw the SoCS JusJoJan prompt for today I was nearly giddy with excitement. Finally something easy. But, wait, what kind of art to post about.
You see, I am kind of an art ADHD, in that I am not committed to one thing. I am sort of an artsy Jane-of-All-Trades and perhaps Master-of-None. I love creating but am constantly moving from project to project. It isn’t that I get bored. I just feel maybe I should move on or that time is wasting. I haven’t figured out yet what this semi-neurosis stems from but will keep you posted should I work it out. Maybe it will come to me in a dream. Many of my dilemmas are worked out during dreams.
Meanwhile, what to choose…so difficult! Since I am currently working as feverishly as I can on my Dawn of the Dream novel I think I’ll post a snippet. And maybe a photo or two of projects. I hope you enjoy them.
No matter what, I hope you find your own artistic outlet. Don’t even try to say it to me. Everyone has an artistic vein. It just takes something special to pull it out of us sometimes. Just ask anyone who has done a Cork and Canvas class. 😉
Okay, from the journals of my mind wanderings which will hopefully cohese into a novel. Someday….
from Dawn of the Dream…
Inside the Sorceress’s hut, the Hunter and Ella were not thinking of sleep. It was awkward, so long since either had known passion; and Ella tentatively worked at conversation. “Eolas, do you think Saol is comfortable in the cave, without..” Eolas put his finger to her lips and pulled her close to him.
“There is no need to worry about Saol. She is well cared for. Now, there is only us and we have so little time.” The Hunter took a deep breath, as though inflating his courage. The smell of lavender wafted across the room like a breeze. In times past this would have given him pause for sorrow; but in that moment, he felt comforted. It was as though Eagna was reassuring him.
‘Live, my love. Show our daughter what love can be.’
Eolas wasn’t sure exactly what the journey would bring; but he knew in that moment, for the first time since his world crumbled, he felt an almost overwhelming desire to love again. Ella pulled his hand from her mouth and slid it down to her breast. “I know we have both been here before, but I feel so…” Eolas silenced her again, but this time with his lips. There were no more words as they recalled the fire and desire of physical union, making the most of the moments they had to share. Neither worried for the lost sleep or when the sun would rise-only that it rose on them lying together…..
To be continued..
A bit of sizzle for your Saturday. And hop over to the bar. Our buddy Dan is back on his feet and having a beer!
Here are a few more of my happy distractions…
Tap lightly on an image to see the caption. Happy #Free48 everyone! Be your creative, artistic self. Oh, and if you haven’t already, try to catch The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel on Netflix. It’s fantastic!
not what you see-
naked, shivering, withered tree
still donning bits of finery.
My skin gone rough and graying
and the ground beneath decaying
where my roots are firmly planted
as my spine grows bent and slanted.
Close your eyes…
try to recall,
the kiss of Fall
so sweet he made us blush
and feel the golden rush
of girlish delight!
His nimble hands did thus caress,
so wild, untamed and wreckless
we danced, to light the sky!
‘What need for garments?’,
and thus, unfettered,
that tame the spirit,
fool the mind,
the passersby shook their heads
and grinned instead of
”Oh what a shame,”
was all they said.
Such loveliness once on the trees
lay now in shreds around their knees.
when thus you see
the gnarled skin-
what lies within
remains the same-
till Spring plants a kiss-
Then comes the blush,
yet now the hush
of naked truth
is cold and silent.
In Winter’s keep
doth does she sleep
with dancing dreams
of gold and green.
CKP copyright words and images 2018
Today’s #SoCS post brought to you through The magic of Linda Hill’s blog.
Today’s word prompt was ma. Use it alone or as part of a word manipulation. Extra points for beginning your post with it.
Visit Linda’s place for more great posts and prompts. I hope you join the fun! Happy #Free48 everyone. If you are thirsty, stop in at the bar and strike up a conversation with Dan. He’ll tell you what’s good on the menu and share some humor. Maybe. If you buy him a beer. 😉
Stealing itself against the sharp edge of Winter,
waiting in silent anticipation of day’s end
Sun’s last cry of surrender to night strikes
her cold, hard body, as flint to steel..
Igniting a spark, flicker of brilliance
setting Autumn’s fine petticoats on fire!
Watch her sway and burn with bright desire
to be caressed by his glow, kissed by his hot breath
as bitter darkness follows close behind.
But in that briefest of moments she blazes with glory,
they dance in fiery passion, embracing end of day
when azure skies and butterflies have gone away.
Promises are whispered in the shadow of delight
that while she sleeps he will keep the firelight
his word is true.
“See you in the Spring, my lovely,” he whispers as he slips the petticoats from her
body and kisses her to sleep.
Do not weep.
She will return, together they will burn again in Spring.
CKP Copyright words and images 2018
Love the Ink Spots…
Autumn on my windowsill,
So quiet, lying, dying..still
Cleverly disguised as change
with brilliant strokes you rearrange
the comfort of the familiar.
We bundle up and brace ourselves
as Summer things are put on shelves
and breathless wait for Winter’s hand,
its shadow cold across the land
in shades of brown and white.
Though Autumn be what you are called…
I know just why we call you Fall!
Round 2 of Nature’s ticker tape parade…..
Mother nature has it all-an endless palette and eternal vision. She does some of her best work in this season!
If only she would clean up the mess when she’s done….😏
Okay, I’m saying it for you. That’s what many of you will say when you read my post, but I don’t even care. If being a flake means I have faith in something outside of myself that keeps me going in a world gone mad around me then I’d rather be a flake doing life. (Wait, that sounds kind of like a favorite song….) maybe later.
Anyway, according to my favorite customer at the bar and doorscursion expert Dan , the Friday prompt for Linda Hill’s #SoCS event is to open any book and, with eyes closed, point to a section on the page and write about the word, sentence or paragraph. It so happens that the book sitting beside my bed is one I have been working at reading for weeks now. I say “working at” because these days reading books seems nearly impossible. Between real time work, trying to write my own book, do some creative projects, spend time with hubby and get out to see the natural world and be rejuvenated, I hardly have enough moments to sit and read more than a few pages. I am slowly working my way through Inkheart as well. I love the movie so I suppose knowing the end keeps me from plodding forward more quickly.
Back to the point. I am not a particularly religious person in my later years although I am deeply spiritual in that I am confident that there is a guiding force in my life and there are things that we do not fully understand nor even often consider as real possibilities because our practical brains cannot pick them apart, categorize and file them away as proven facts. Those are the things that intrigue me most. If I had my life to do over again I would have gone into Science just to study Quantum Physics. Or become a photo journalist. 😏
What is the point?, you are saying. I ask for guidance in all things that I do-for Spirit, God, The Universe, to manifest itself for me in ways that give me tangible evidence that we do not walk alone here. This evidence is not for me, but for sharing. In the words of Fox Mulder, “I want to believe!” And, more than he, I really do.
This is a good book, by the way. And so true. Many of us feel we are doing a great job in life, just letting things roll, going with the flow, saying “it is what it is” (I hate that one) when we are really just stuffing things into a big old suitcase with aging rusty latches that someday will give out from the enormity of what is inside, swelling until it must be recognized. Many things should be shared, gotten off of one’s chest and ironed out, even though it might be uncomfortable or even painful. I was raised in a home where conflict was taboo, so learning to have a civil disagreement was challenging. An all out argument used to cripple me. Now I understand that true change and growth never occurs without some discomfort. Sometimes a lot of it.
Again, the point. As I opened the book, I closed my eyes, asking for guidance to find just the right phrase or thought to include in this post. As I scrolled the page my finger dragged a bit and I passed the spot, but scrolled back up where it dragged again.
When I opened my eyes, this was the paragraph. I ain’t lyin’..
”So how do I get to this point,” you may ask, “willing to BE, first?” Processing negative feelings throught the Script is the perfect place to start. As you process your feelings you are BE-ing. It will be of great benefit for you to work throught the hostilities and frustrations you may have so you can finally arrive at the place of ‘live and let live’…of BE-ing, enjoying the peace of now.
This is my goal, even before this book or this passage. To live in the now moment, for it is the only one which truly exists. The past is but a blip in our brains and the future is a mere possibility.
Here is another of my recent moments of requesting presence to be made known. When we took our day trip to Sawnee Mountain Preserve, there is a statue of the purported Sawnee himself at the entrance to the park. The plackard board states that no true image of the indigenous man known as Sawnee exists, so they did an imagined rendition. I took several photos of the statue, my heart and soul asking if the true spirit of the man known as Sawnee or anyone else wanted to be recognized while I was there, to please feel free. This was my photo. I love orbs! I get them a lot. Sometimes they even show up in photos later, after I have already edited and saved them .
Okay, go ahead and call me a flake. But I am a happy flake, a contended and loving flake. I wish the rest of the world would join me in the hope of flakiness.
PS. I never got a green orb before. Green is a healing color. I love this one.
Okay, so now that the song is stuck in my head I am sharing it with you. Please feel free to keep it playing in your heads all day too. Happy Free 48! More to come on that later!
And. Speaking of “points”, have any of you ever seen the production The Point? It is a marvelous work about acceptance and the importance of being different. Check it out! I saw it as a play in high school but they made a movie of it too.
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"I tramp the perpetual journey." Walt Whitman
my life. what have I got to chauffeur it?