witness the beauty peel away
witness the beauty peel away
— Read on Fabric on the Daily Post
What are we willing to give up? What would i find behind your curtain as i swing it aside? Have you, will you, consider letting me know?
I wait. Anticipate. Is this a game eagerly played by two? Or only i?
Am i setting myself up for your opera. Life over as fast as it started. Slow. Drawn out misery. Ending with a cry of freedom!
A peek behind the madness of death exists behind every curtain. It matters not your fabric woven. The rapacious appetite for breath carries us along.
I do not plan to go anywhere. Neither behind your curtain. Or stand before it. I want to be your covering. Shield you from peering eyes.
Church is poetry.
Poetry is life.
A life well lived.
at the end
of every truth
a handful of stars shine -die.
The same person -born
new thoughts and old
intermingle within our DNA.
There is always something worth fighting for. Some times those things are greater than ourselves. Other times, it is ourselves we fight for. When we are able to simultaneously fight for all these things, we triumph.
Personally. Collectively. Battles.
Currently I am reading a very short book Sacred Geometry and set out to notice shapes and patterns in my photographs. Actively identify the photo’s composition, that was not purposely planned out, retracing my whimsical approach to life, intentionally finding what was pleasing to the eye.
This flower sums up life. Do you recognize the flower able to bloom wherever it finds footing? Often called grounding, it is connecting with ourselves, whereby one is able to calm the soul. Learning to thrive in a foreign land set against you, name the battles.
Notice the petals, some tattered, are not symmetrical. The space is full and empty. The rocks worn smooth from salty waters, leave stained memories. Immersed into the green, jagged leaves, symmetry unfolds. Layered upon each other, they peek from behind, nourishing each other with their varied position in time.
Odd. Count the petals. Twenty-three. One petal missing, to make it an even 24, or is this space purposely left open, as a fill-in-the-blank? This question remains unanswered, teaching us to be grounded while going along, while the tears flow.
Please read to the end, even if you are not in the mood to be cheery!!!! I truly care for you…
🌟 Possibilities exist in every shiny thought.
Never allow yourself to be squared in to a corner without a circle. Be adVenturous! Find a star and start running.
Even if it takes a lifetime to catch your star, realize you will have lived a full life chasing it.
Don’t pay attention to your neighbor’s faults. Work on your own. Once you realize no one is perfect, you will find inner peace exists.
Turn the other cheek. Forgive. Love. Move on. If your enemies follow you, hooray. And if they disappear, too bad they missed out living life along with you. Hopefully, and i sincerely mean this, i pray everyone can discover and name their own star to chase.
Just never stop chasing your star once you find and name it! 🌟 J
(I do not write this lightly. I have been depressed and suicidal. It has taken 50 years to reach my pinnacle. I have swam through snake infested waters, mosquito-riddled forests and felt unloved by the very people who should have helped me in life. I get the pessimist. I was one. Life seems to be turning for the good and i rejoice that i endured and can speak hope today. If you turn from this post because your hurting, reach out. There are people who care! I pray you find your star!)
Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived.
Your silhouette -mine
upon the earth
our umbilical cord
as God turns His head
I ran away
to never look back
and you got lost
along the way
our whiter than snow -bled.
resist lonely woods
our silence consumes her sleep
dreams mushroom from deep
My first attempt at a still life in late 2016. I added another layer to the painting today. Am I satisfied now?
I hope to try a still life again once moved and settled. Canvas and paint packed away after the past weekend painting spree. Shall see how long the tape keeps the box shut this time. More paintings here and here.
I am really enjoying paint.
knock, knock, neighbors call
the party’s moved down yonder
the wine here is drunk
forest doors open
appears not a soul to find
footsteps spooked them gone