woods to myself
a disciplined dancer
knowing a poet
veer to his path
land a fish
learn the ropes
always get up again
There are days of being lost in the woods, not knowing the fate, but just being a wanderer – That’s life -Anonymous
My truth at the moment… the freedom of wandering… letting loose! The excitement of new imprisons too… to feeling of anxiety, the unknown.
boots trample the snow
hexagonal brilliant flakes
lightly grace the sky
Let me join in dreams
Stir a night of stars
Lost! my way
in thoughts of you
Honeyed, sullen skies.
Teaching myself to make felted landscapes.
Realized i have not put up any of my door pictures of late… so, cheers, to the WP door fanatics… and quote gurus.
“And by and by Christopher Robin came to the end of things, and he was silent, and he sat there, looking out over the world, just wishing it wouldn’t stop.” -A.A. Milne The House at Pooh Corner
“I am sure there is Magic in everything, only we have not sense enough to get hold of it and make it do things for us”
-Frances Hodgson Burnett The Secret Garden
“The claim that cellar door is beautiful to the ear — in opposition to its prosaic meaning — has been made by and attributed to a wide variety of writers over the years.” New York Times Magazine (click to read the fascinating article.)
“Once in his life a man ought to concentrate his mind upon the remembered earth.” N. Scott Momoday
“…it’s doors I’m afraid of because I can’t see through them, its the door opening by itself in the wind I’m afraid of.” -Margaret Atwood Surfacing
with mother earth
holding tightly to birth
winter winds gusty march triumphant
wish i understood
perhaps, i do
a bushel covered
beside, i fathom
of life… to shine!
of earth, surface
the charred forest
scattered to four corners
the huddled masses
spirit… to be!
of souls, breathe
a hush spreads
across the sea
buried, uncover me.
A new experience presented itself within a community to celebrate positive energy. This was most of the group’s first time being together. The hour started with rhythmic drum beats mimicking the heart’s life force.
There were 15 of us, each with a drum and another percussion instrument. This video is the third of four sets, each naturally lasting between 12-13 minutes. The group leaders did little to manipulate each interval of creative expression. They flowed as swiftly and gently, or vigorously and bountifully, as the Nashua River, deep in the Valley of Oxbow.
As the hour progressed, a golden hue encompassed us. We said farewell to the sun. Then to each other. Look forward to another drum circle September 12.
Where to start? It is as if my life is being lived in one day… with no way to slow down. Juggling between need-to-do and want-to-do and compromising. All this beauty is descending upon my head in rocket speed… the town i have moved to is bursting at the seems with poetry and dance.
Harvard MA was home to the Alcott’s and other Transcendentalists who started a Utopian Society at Fruitlands. I am in love with the philosophy.
All matters of life are to be sipped here.
I am gulping… famished from years of neglect. I am bathing in this community and coming alive.
To be continued…
Even the air… intoxicating!