Posted in Photography, Poetry, quotes, Soul Journal

My Promise Garden

There exists a place
where grace imparts
a smile on every face.

Where flowers bloom
and chicks do roam
and honeybees buzz about.

The woods they speak
of you and me
we set a spot of tea.

The wild creatures
come and romp
dance so gaily.

And in the end
our heads will root
between the dappled sun.

I am always grateful the days depression departs my soul. Today I feel free… How are you? 🙏🏼💙🌊

Posted in Art, Poetry, quotes

Iron Sharpens Iron

timid soul sparks light
a feeble space to wonder
sharpen iron words

And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

Posted in music, Music Video, Poetry, quotes

VDay Songs

Send your favorites. Here is one of mine…🔗❤️🥰

Do you wanna be an angel
Do you wanna be a star
Do you wanna play some magic on my guitar
Do you wanna be a poet
Do you wanna be my string
You could be anything

Do you wanna be the lover of another
Undercover you could even be the man on the moon

Do you wanna be the player
Do you wanna be the string
Let me tell you something
It just don’t mean a thing

You see it really doesn’t matter
When you’re buried in disguise
By the dark glass on your eyes
Though your flesh has crystallised

Still… you turn me on
Still… you turn me on
Mmmm… you turn me on

Do you wanna be the pillow where I lay my head
Do you wanna be the feathers lying in my bed
Do you wanna be the cover of a magazine
Create a scene

Every day a little sadder
A little madder
Someone get me a ladder

Do you wanna be the singer
Do you wanna be the song
Let me tell you something
You just couldn’t be more wrong

You see I really have to tell you
That it all gets so intense
From my experience
It just doesn’t seem to make sense

Still… you turn me on
Mmmm… you turn me on, yeah
Mmmm… you turn me on.

Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry, quotes

My Morning Mind

I am scribbling away, trying to keep up with my thoughts.

The coffee was brewing and the aroma had me thinking this morning. Again. Stuck in a corner with piled papers around my feet. Shuffling through them, I came across a Steinbeck quote. Lessons on love and hate.

My mind wanders as I watch the clouds prepare a bath of snowflakes. “What constitutes hate? And does an ideal love overcome our failure to understand others? Is there a moral love?”

There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you — of kindness and consideration and respect — not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had. -Steinbeck

Why am I bogged down with such heaviness? What relief exists? The heavens resemble our hearts and yet clouds obscure the view. The heart is buried. The soul is grieved. Is it I, we, or you?

I have danced secretly in ugly love. I being the selfish person begging for comfort. I have lived in that grave. Today I dream. I long to release myself from the grip of fear. To taste the sweet water of grace. And gift you the same power of hope.

—–

Mind you, not every day is clobbered with words. I am learning to laugh. Tell me a joke. I listen well enough.

Happy writing ✍🏼 J🖤🤍📬

Posted in Poetry, prose, quotes

Disappear

I am.

I have not left home. Not yet. Not until tomorrow morning. I hope the coming days in Florida prove restful.

To be stuck in between dreams, for years, leaves me wanting to disappear while I finish off old memories and crave new ideas. To remain in limbo leaves me off kilter.

In Jane Austen’s Persuasion, proper manners, community, and romance fills the pages. But also spirit. I could easily fit into Jane’s 19th century.

I am. I am trying. Bending. Breaking. Falling. Obsessing over miles. The years span as eagle’s wings.

Praying. Mumbling. Beseeching spirits to know more! Craving what I cannot drink today. Reaching for the chalice far away.

This is a great start. I can persuade myself to step out and discover. To be my own heroine and find my future.

I am. Leaving, I disappear.

I am not. Now gone. I sail away on Calypso.

Posted in Art, Musings, Poetry, quotes

What if?

Facebook image

Life is a tragedy until you make it a comedy. –Me

I love storytelling and dance and the creativeness of being. There is purpose in art. There is a reason we have an imagination.

But ever more, I feel squeamish at the way we are being manipulated in our thoughts by the shimmer of fame and the fortune of a few. I cry because there is a huge disconnect in Hollywood and the fortress built. I fear community adrift in a stranger’s dreams.

Perhaps we lack courage to live. Perhaps our obsession to be entertained leaves us morally weak. Fame abandons. When their story ends, what is left? Lights out and doors shut. We are left wandering and wondering what the purpose of Hollywood is all about. Hollywood feels so empty.

I say this having always wanting to be a dancer. It is in my soul to create. There is exhilaration being on a stage. Being loved for the love you create. Oh, but fleeting love.

I agree with Shakespeare that all of life is a stage. Perhaps we should admire our neighbor. Listen to their stories and be mesmerized by their dance. What if we do? What if we too share our dreams and hopes and make art?

One of the many reasons I love online blogging. We can participate in one of life’s magic elixirs, words! Cheers! J🌱

Posted in Music Video, Poetry, quotes

Security

Life-wrenching
mind-sucking
dream-crushing
world of good intentions
void of convictions

deeply wounded
resting in Grace’s chair

God molding me
the potter and mending clay,

faith muscles
stretch to forgive

home bound -secure
traveling towards space.

(An older poem from a different mindset. Hopefully not too mind-crushing or numbing for the second day of 2020! Keep positive✨🕯! Life has a way of changing course.)

And that’s what it’s about, isn’t it? Love? Love’s about making it last, making it stick, making it count – even when it hurts, when times are hard, when people change, when life changes them. If you love someone, then you have to want to love them, whoever they are.” –Rowan Coleman We Are All Made of Stars

Posted in Music Video, Musings, Poetry, quotes

Writers are Readers

Regurgitate. As social animals, we do this regularly. We eat words and spit them out for others to swallow. Recycle what everyone else has already said numerous times by bulimic practices. Twice daily, for good measure. Then proceed to wonder why we historically never truly change.

Revolution. In order to avoid this social practice, I am gathering books off my shelves, wiping off the accumulated dust, and placing the thirty-two chosen books in a prominent place to catch my attention. Yesterday, Anne Sexton drew me in and spoke wisdom. She reminded me how once I was blind and buried in a casket, allowing myself to be lowered into the ground. I did not object. Not one ounce of energy was released while cozy in the casket, to invoke my rights to breathe. I held every whisper close to my chest, lest someone hear my plea.

And today? Who shimmers in the window? A faint image of spring graces my eyes and I open Kathleen Norris’s “Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith”. I enjoy the practice of opening a book to a random page and let it speak on its own merit. I enter the hollowed pages of every book with no expectation, without searching for meaning or definitions or wisdom, but rather allow the mystery of reader’s faith to be trusted. This is always a good personal practice if you possess as little confidence as I do in anyone’s ability to love or guide me in holiness.

And then I open to page 177 and Jeffrey Dahmer shimmers. Kathleen Norris explains how she can understand his crimes all too well. Huh? I remember watching the Green Mile and Shawshank Redemption, and recalling they were innocent, likeable, and punished people, for inescapable reasons. But Jeffrey Dahmer? Please explain Kathleen! And then I get Norris’s thesis. “He (Jeffrey) seemed bewildered, exhausted, a lost soul.” she explains. I am seeing Dahmer through a second set of eyes. Like yesterday, I was, and am seeing in a light that once was shadows.

The chapter “Good and Evil”, where she discusses Dahmer, reflects back to the reader, the easiness of black and white thinking while pointing out the grey spectrum fogs our vision. The grayness noticeably makes us uncomfortable and often fearful. We resist taking time to weed through disturbed society’s murky waters. This defiance allows us to declare that we are good. And they are evil. We lazily separate humanity by merits without even counting the score or trying to understand the reasoning behind what caused us to fear another from the beginning.

The other current phenomenon, Norris rightly points out, is to discredit religion and its ability to heal. The need has never been greater for those who “struggle with ordinary but dangerous temptations to anger and revenge, to pride and greed, the fool’s gold of vainglory, and the improper manipulation of other people to further (their) own ends.” (p. 179). Currently, we rely on psychology to mend spiritual deficiencies, which is incapable of reaching the buried soul, protected by the mind’s easy route to not introspect our own evil, in declaring ourselves good.

“Jeffrey Dahmer shows us what the fear of abandonment can do to the human spirit.” Let us not abandon all roads to what feels easier to manuever. Let us strive to fully understand ourselves spiritually, emotionally, intellectually and mentally. Not solely by science or psychology but equally welcome a rigorous religious practice. What we do not understand is too easy to ignore.

There are no uninteresting things, only uninterested people. –G.K. Chesterton

https://youtu.be/4ZTTmjeANlQ

Posted in Musings, quotes

Here’s looking at you kid.

How many times have I watched Casablanca without catching the interweaving of espionage and intrigue with undying romance? Too many. I actually thought, until this latest viewing, that Ilsa Lund left on the plane to America, alone. Never realized she was married and her man was fighting valiantly behind-the-scenes. I was so focused on the romance that I missed the back story, the WWII narrative and obviously the double-crossing French Capt. Renault, along with Rick, who played all sides of the war to their benefit.

If we stop breathing, we’ll die. If we stop fighting our enemies, the world will die. ” Viktor Laszlo

It is a romance, but the drama shines, building to a hero’s crescendo. The world, along with those imprisoned, fought valiantly in WWII, to secure freedom from the authoritarian Nazi regime. Casablanca teaches humanity that the only problem with human nature is our short-sighted and narrow-minded focus on ourselves. There is a greater vision of peace that gets tangled in the web of human need. Innocent hearts must remember the greater good is worth fighting towards. Rick understood this well. Never stooped below his values for a cheap thrill.

A kiss is just a kiss.

Today America celebrates a day of Thanksgiving. Not everyone understands the holiday nor does the whole population celebrate the season. My greatest concern is mankind’s inability to understand the other in the midst of their “I am..”.

May we all listen. May we all strive to be peace makers.