My Monhegan


Oh! to find relaxation. Get lost amidst the Monhegan sea air.

I once honored the rapt attention of the island’s evening. Witnessed the homeward gulls, floating above. Shhhh! i warned them. I desired the whispered stories unfolding below the ocean waves.

I witnessed their goodbyes descend upon my eyes. Their limelight emitted farewell and invited the lesser stars to partake in the feast. Satisfied, i bid farewell, in hopes my soul would once again return.

*The finished painting from a previous post.

My Monhegan

I am currently working on a painting My Monhegan, an island off the coast of Maine. Monhegan is a place that encompasses 95% of my spiritual thought while a mere 3 days and 2 nights were physically spent there. It amazes how much an impact the place had on me. A healing calm took me over and i only have to slip on those hiking shoes to feel the embrace around my soul.

At least the ones i have conquered.

In the meantime, while rushing from one idea to the next, for the past three days, i realized something important. I don’t hear the rattling noises in my mind. At least not as often as i use to and only when invited in. The loudness has abated with a new found courage. I have tamed the angry heart that broke and mended the fabric tears. The tears in my eyes have dried.

The scared child that cowered in the corner has found light. She has grown since last spoken to. The sex fiend has retreated and allowed a wholeness to take place. I convinced her sex is nothing compared to spiritual ecstasy. A spiritual relationship, with someone who can read my mind and play off my every mood, move and energy, is enticing. I have a few girlfriends like this. I have yet to make a pact with such a guy friend. I have a few in mind, but they don’t seem to understand the concept as i had envisioned they would. Such a collaboration is still open to anyone. Even long distance. I am open and my heart twirls in excitement to find such a guy. If such a person exists. 🤨

As if a light switch was flicked on and off, on and off, the hurt, which once overcame me, has now been overcome. The chaos inside has relented and been subdued.

I win! I won!
I run! I swim!
I fly away…

Attending the Opera

— 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.


Paula: Lost in Translation Photo Essay. Pairs.

Apples. 9/13/2016

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.


hovering blankets of fault
wind swept waves birth
promise awakened

frailty of beauty -come
peer beneath her layers
enchantment greets