Art Matters/#SoCS

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!

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Antique and Antiquity

In recent days I have been having periods of inexplicable melancholy, a sort of reminiscent nostalgia that is both familiar and unsettling. Life has its ups and downs always; but I am happy to say I have moved beyond carrying old baggage around and have spent years trying to light the dark, dusty, cobweb-filled corners of sorrows past. Still….

Things happen.  Like a favorite hymn of my mother’s that fills my head. Like a treasured piece of simple jewelry she gave me as a child, too worn to wear and which usually lies in a keepsake jewelry box, one that my Dad sent home to my sister when she was younger and that I somehow inherited along the way. A religious piece with white beads and tarnished plated gold bangles on which are barely legible etchings of ancient words, words I memorized as soon as I was old enough to recite verse in church Sunday School.

This morning as I opened a drawer in my regular jewelry box to choose a pair of earrings for the day, the white beads caught my eye. The bracelet lay among my other favorite bangles as though it had always been there.

 

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I can’t shake the feeling that it was not there accidentally and I know that even if I absentmindedly moved it from one spot to another at some random moment of rearranging, this moment on this day means something more. I am still working out what it means that she reaches out to me at this time, but I know that she does.

I have been reflecting on things throughout the day. My little bracelet, now an antique, bears the etchings of one of life’s most treasured antiquities, The Ten Commandments. So many of us know them by heart. Some are way overused and even abused for the purposes of manipulation, while some are often overlooked. In my reflection on the state of our country, our world and the destiny of humankind, I thought it might be helpful to take a look at these dictates once again, but with new eyes, open hearts and a deeper understanding.

The Ten Commandments

I am the Lord thy God, thou shall not have any gods before me.
You shall not make for yourself an idol in the form of anything.
You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God.
Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.
Honor your father and your mother.
You shall not murder.
You shall not commit adultery.
You shall not steal.
You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor.
You shall not covet your neighbor’s house, wife, or property.

 

I have some very personal reasons for not being conventionally religious at this point in my life, but I try to honor and understand the sacred teachings within  religions that work to draw all of life together rather than to separate humans into groups. I also believe that a holy man in an uncertain world leading an entire nation across the wilderness to freedom faced the daunting task of trying to keep peace and sanity among those masses of humans who were hungry, tired, afraid, bored and doubtful of their future. Order was necessary. Orders from God were necessary. I wonder how much these commandments helped Moses on his journey as much as I wonder that so many people know these words so well and swear by the ideal that they are direct words from God. And yet….they do not respect nor honor the most basic of them.

You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor. 

This one has become America’s favorite passtime.

You shall not commit murder

It didn’t say, “unless……”

How does one reconcile the absolute-ness to which certain of these commandments is assigned while others seem to be merely ‘guidelines’?

You shall not covet….

Theft and murder for something as simple as a pair of shoes has become commonplace in our society, all because humans want what someone else has. Covetous hearts cause humans to break half the other commandments. Perhaps it should have been number one on the list.

I will leave you to ponder the others and experience your own understanding anew of one of the world’s great antiquities while I am simply going to try to rework my little antique bracelet for the sake of my Mom who loves me so much she never leaves me alone. I want to wear it again. She believed, she hoped, she loved; but this world was too sad for her.

Happy mid-week my friends.

Most of you know who BJ Thomas is and have heard his famous pop music; but he also went through a very huge spiriual transformation many years ago and has produced some beautiful musical recordings of both traditional and original songs. This song always comes to mind when someone dear to me makes the journey home and awakens from this dream. It brings me peace and comfort.

 

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Beautiful/#Free48-So Far/#SoCs

So far, so peaceful. After a long, busy work week I am very happy to welcome this #Free48. And so far it looks promising. First, there was no alarm, and now I am enjoying a nice cup of coffee with ‘The Doctor’, the sun is out and hubby did most of the tough cleaning for us during the week. Toss a bit of exploration and some creative time in there and I couldn’t ask for more.

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Well….maybe a visit from our little buddy. I found the shots from her near stowaway excursion with us. 😀

Okay, get your ‘awwwws’ ready.

 

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After having my head down fiddling with coat, gloves, purse, etc, I looked up and nearly screamed until I realized who it was. Let me tell you, guys, she owns her special-ness.

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“Bird! Squirrel! Blowing leaf!”

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Hey, where you guys goin’? Maybe I wanna go too. Didya’ ever think about that, huh?

Today’s post brought to you by Linda Hill’s #SoCS prompt.

Check out her blog and today’s post for other great Saturday tales of how the blogging community is.

And no time jumping…so far. 😉

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Perpetual/#Poetry

When life whispered to my soul,

calling the blush onto my cheek,

 

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I sensed the continuity of existence

 

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coursing hotly through my veins,

inciting me to breathe as I reached

towards the receding Light that sent me

into such a life as lay before my

newly awakened consciousness.

Slowly…..

 

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My essence unfurled upon Life’s velveteen

blanket of sweet newness, fresh, wet

and innocent, my mind quickly numbed

as all knowledge receded into gray matter-

a clean slate awaiting the writing of my story-

 

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Sweet forgetting left me hungry,

longing filled my being, drove me on

into the moments of pleasure, pain,

as I climbed the summit and fell again-

too many times, it seems, like

so many dreams until my soul

emerged from hibernation,

ancient holy realization

set in.

Thus I begin…

 

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the fading, as evading life’s cold hand

I cling to memory-the heart of me

in disbelief does comprehend an

eventual end to the great pretend.

Time again for transformation,

cast off the rock in deportation,

the cycle of rejuvenation

must go on,

for old and faded though I be…

 

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I shall go home,

heeding my Creator’s call

and weary at the door I fall,

be comforted and take my rest,

make ready for the next return

to live and laugh, love and learn-

Perpetual….

 

CherylKP copyright 2018

Crooked/Poetry

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There was a crooked man

who walked a crooked mile

to wag a crooked finger

at the moon’s crooked smile.

 

“Don’t laugh at me,”

he warned,

dejected and forlorn,

feeling quite abused,

angry and confused.

 

“So you’ve come to

me at last,

like a ghost from

out the past.

Is it recompense you seek,

if so why don’t you speak?”

 

(her crooked smile did not waver)

 

 

The crooked little man

took a crooked step

along the crooked walk,

he took a ragged breath

and then began to talk.

 

“You made me what I am,

you wicked, lusty dame.

Wandering this lonely path

until my legs are lame.

For what you promised,

yes you know

beneath that sultry

silver glow,

that love was true and

free for taking.

Thus I have spent a lifetime

making

love, and hope

and wicked ties

only to find it

all was lies.

I believed but

was deceived

you careless liar,

fueling fire

to burn men’s souls.”

 

 

Her majesty just grinned,

“My dear tho you have sinned,

’twas through no fault of mine,

nor the starlit night divine.

Each gem that fell into your hands

was swallowed by the shifting sands

of your deceit,

pressed into dust

from hungry lust

and blown away

at end of play.

Angels all, and at your call

You bruised and used and left them all!”

 

The crooked little man

dropped his head into his hands

and weeping bitter tears,

bemoaned the wasted years;

but she who knows not guilt or shame

felt no remorse for placing blame

upon the head

of he who shed

the tears that bled

his soul away.

(her crooked smile was wistful)

 

“Go back into the mists

and shake your crooked fists

at he who lives within the glass

and looks at you from out the past.

As dust to dust

return you must,

and thus reborn

you shall be sworn

to retribution,

love’s solution

lies in the hands of

he who understands

the turning of the tides

and that no one can hide

from she who holds the key

to bright eternity!

 

Cheryl KP 2018

Copyright Photo and words

 

 

 

Occasional Whimsy/#SoCS

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Ocular interpretation

bowing to imagination,

floating off in pastel hue

of sunset pink and ocean blue,

magically against the light,

pure occipital delight!

With each breath, anticipation,

to honor this new occupation! 

Sighing, flying, giggling me

to think such play would set me free

till fun o’clock comes to an end

with deadly kisses on the wind,

my bubble burst, annhialation

havoc wreaked on my creation,

the Octopus’s garden gate is

closed, locked, tic toc-too late

to glide away inside that sphere

whisked away to there from here!

Surely there’s no grander spell,

this earthbound Spirit cannot quell

such adolescent liberations,

my mouth agape in consternation,

staring at the empty space

with soapy film across my face

and gaze into the swirling potion

responsible for this emotion.

I wonder that I made a fuss-

I must go find that Octopus!

 

CherylKP Copyright 2018

What else is one to do on a snowed in unexpected holiday but to blow bubbles and photograph them before they burst?👏🏻

This post is brought to you by

Linda Hill and her Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt

Check out her page for details about this event!

 

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Shines to Bless…#SoCS #JusJoJan

There is nothing to do for introduction but to share with you the exact instructions for our SoCS prompt from Linda Hill. Each week we get a pompt from Linda to write a post on Saturday. This one was challening and I quote:

Your prompt for #JusJoJan and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is as follows: read closely. When you’re ready to sit down and write your post, look to the publication (book, newspaper, permission slip from your kid’s teacher, whatever you find) closest to you, and base your post on the sixth, seventh, and eighth word from the beginning of the page. Enjoy!”

Wow! So glad I wasn’t cooking or reading the newspaper or…

As it happens I already had a post in mind for today so I happened to have a book sitting nearby. The words that qualify are “shines to bless”. The book? A Wanderer in the Spirit Land, a fairly old publication, dating back to 1901, with a transcriber’s preface dating 1896.

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This ia a favorite book of mine and the entire sentence from above reads, “Oh star of hope that shines to bless the Wanderer through life’s wilderness! Angels of Love-are ye come to lead the weary Wanderer home?”

I find it ironic that anything metaphysically inclined has now come to be called ‘New Age’ when, in fact, there has been awareness of the metaphysical since ancient times, perhaps even more respect for its role in existence being understood and accepted in those days. The difference, I suppose, in modern times is the social acceptance of such ideas. And a lot less witch burnings. 😏

The primary reason I love this book is the basic concept that a man who has lived less than a chaste and benevolent life, turning his back on his one true love to wheel and deal in monetary gain to the ends of deeply sinning against God and humanity, finds himself in hell-but not a religious hell. That would be too simple. This hell is one that takes time to sink in for it is not a lot different from his life. This hell I can envision, as each entering there is made to exist among others such as themselves. If a thief, among theives, if a murderer, always running from murderers, etc.  To exist in a place where there is no chance of salvation or redemption, playing out scenarios wherein one is the victim of their own sins over and over would indeed be hell to me.

Our dark hero, Franchezzo, has gone to such a place, resigning himself to his fate until a lifeline as in a faraway dream is extended. His true love prays for his soul, he can see her, and his heart is broken for what he is putting her through. He never stopped loving her though his heart had become embedded in stone in later life.

( I somehow feel the idea for Ebenezer Scrooge came from this book)

So Franchezzo seeks out a way to ascend the deepest bowels of hell, rung by painful rung, only so that he may relieve her pain over his soul’s demise. The ensuing tale is reminiscent of Dante’s Inferno and the moden day movie What Dreams May Come, with Robin Williams. It is possibly one of the most heartbreaking yet profoundly beautiful films I have ever seen in terms of personal love and sacrifice, of hope and salvation.

 

 

In the film Chris descends to hell to save Annie who has committed the grave sin of suicide, but he too is eventually drawn into her nightmare and decides to stay with her there rather than live throughout eternity without her. This final act of love awakens her soul to the truth of unconditional love and they are thus saved from Annie’s hell.

I believe in a higher power that only knows love for its children and that whatever it takes to bring them home is what It would want. I also believe we have beings on Earth that deliver messages from the spirit world if only we can still our hearts and minds enough to see and hear them.

“Be still and listen, sayeth the Lord…”

 

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Wishing you all a beautiful weekend filled with miracles and light.