share your smile
let your voice carry
in silence, your whisper
burns in to my heart
i bury my life with you
saw the sun shine through
the winds… feel them blow
around us and we twirl
twirl until our wings no longer fly…
certainly no poem is ever finished… at least not until i am no longer able to change, erase, recite, replace
this view from my eyes…
reading a gallery guide
what studios should i tour
Drinking in-room, motel-brewed coffee while reading about local galleries… which ones to explore. I think it shall be Wellfleet MA today. Provincetown another day.
Join Cee this Monday, July 9, 2018 and share your world…
What would you name the autobiography of your life?
Meet Me Outside
Which do you prefer sweet, salty or buttery?
What’s the finest education?
Although experience is the greatest teacher, it is often harsh. Reading living books as per the Charlotte Mason philosophy. One can survive reading a book.
What did you appreciate or what made you smile this past week?
Spent yesterday with a friend at the Institute of Contemporary Art/Boston, showed off my house and met her sister and brother-in-law.
I dabble in photography and this blog i share (see link below) always satisfies when read, with varying ways photos impact. Click link to see work displayed. This particular post is especially drawn to me as a quilter, lover of fabric and the process of piecing together lives.
“For over a decade, Sewn has taken shape from altered, chopped, merged, and recomposed photographs. …
By engaging with the photography in this way, I create work that deals with the notions of truth in photography and its impact on identity. Using family photographs and those from my family’s past albums as material for the work, the resulting imagery tells a “new truth” with reimagined memories, situations, and experiences.”
— Read on photolicioux.wordpress.com/2018/06/20/sewn/
Exit left… continues. 4/25-6/22/18
i be found
she twirled around
the story ever changing
each token took to spoken
Silence engulfs. 4/25-6/22/18
why i am
i am not here
to garner attention
i am here
to figure me out
in a public fashion
i stride toward the shore
words splash against my skin
life of sin
and so much more
it really is
all about control
if i lose control -of myself
you certainly will try
to control me
Like this lady, i enjoyed my day at the Museum of Fine Arts. It was the last weekend of a Klimt/Schiele exhibit i did not want to miss.
My fav Klimt drawing exhibited. The innocence and vulnerability of humanity, caught in lines of fragility.
My fav Schiele self-portrait exhibited. I feel like this myself, most days. Miserable with a hint of reprise!
Do you like writing with others? Need a sounding board? Want to polish your works “before” you release them to the eyes who read your blog? (i am guilty of publishing everything and anything and need discipline.) Then I encourage you to contact me firstname.lastname@example.org because i am searching for such a person or persons.
First, i should warn you i am highly introverted, never finish a project (but really, really want to publish a book of poems) and get off on long tangents which eventually never resemble what i started. I am currently in-between homes, not organized, have none of my writing or painting tools (the longing for them is burning through the layer of clothes) as they are stored away.
There are positives. I am still passionate about creating with words and color. I am a great listener, so if you need to get something off your chest…. I am married so i wont be needing anything from you except time and a love for poetry, abstract art, photography and listening to the sound of hope.
So what are you waiting for… i am here!
A snippet of what i am currently writing…
I am riddled with holes
as parts of me
to leak out
upon the hard wood floor
a wide-planked pine
I have been told, countless times, i am archaic. So if that doesn’t scare you, i am game. 😍😘🎶🎶🎶🕊
Need to take a break. Feeling twisted up inside. The world is draining me of any sanity i had left but grateful for this beautiful painting that drew my breath and his generosity to let me combine it with my words. The poem keeps expanding. And changing. But for now it rests as is. ❤️🕊
boulder or pebble
heave the edge
saturate the salt rock
interwoven crystal path
we walk upon
take my hand and lead the way
where hearts rest in peace
Break the Yoke, 3/20/2018