Posted in Photography, Poetry

Ocean

There is no where I feel as at home than by the ocean. The seaweed stretches to reach the foot that otherwise wobbles on land. Words fail to describe the ecstasy. If you could hold happiness, you could hold me. But sand slips through fingers and salt water breezes brush past man.

Posted in Photography, Poetry
You hear what they say
without them saying a word
by the looks on their faces

all their thoughts swirling in you
carrying the weight of this world
waiting for your turn

to howl at the moon
a grin embraced by solitude
and stars glimmering in blue eyes.
Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry, Soul Journal

Do not despair

Sunny days are here again
darkness pervades air 
sheltering prayer covers face
one more night to bare

The greatest hazard of all, losing one’s self, can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all. No other loss can occur so quietly; any other loss – an arm, a leg, five dollars, a wife, etc. – is sure to be noticed. —Søren Kierkegaard

Have you noticed yourself slipping into the quiet of thought? What can you do to keep yourself afloat? Who answers your call when you shout?

Posted in Art, Memoir, Musings, Photography, Poetry, prose, Soul Journal

Unintended Consequences

I write to write. I paint to see.

How else do i explain my temporary insanity? Other than my thoughts overflow into print. And then i run with them, as a flirt to power.

Decipher 2022

I study human behavior as a hobby. I honestly believe we all strive for attention. What is my excuse? We would all be far better off climbing back into our suitcases and traveling on to a promised land.

Am I beginning to make sense? Finally? I took an Advil Pm 30 minutes ago. And instead of falling asleep, my mind started racing towards the finish line. “Don’t die yet? The best is yet to come!” Oh, how i dearly want to believe.

So i write. A love letter. A flirtatious epic to myself. With all the obvious jargon of the day. And i secretly stash it into a back pocket, hoping someone would come along and steal all the selfish bull crap ive stored. The letter now written, better explained as love hoarded for myself.

Which brings me to my favorite life artist, Van Gogh. He was not part of polite society. Yet he loved the world more than those who bothered to say “Pardon me.” to fellow men waiting in line for their stab at being known. Ironic that the most evasive was the winner.

Aesop understood human behavior far better than i ever will. And i beg to differ with him as well. I dont really want to know much. Just warming myself by the fire and reading the smoke signals left to inform me, i am still alive.

If you make sense of this, you are far smarter than me. Please explain to me how you know!

Into the Abyss
Acrylic on board. Circa 2020 or 2021?
Posted in Art, Musings, Poetry

My blog got me through

Watercoloring. 2021

Connecting with others here on WordPress saved me from utter destruction. And for that i am grateful. And in the process, i have returned to my first love. Creating is my lifeline and my grace to get me through to the other side.

Working Out my Angst. 2021

Growing up i was denied every aspect of self for the greater good. And as much as i love my family, to neglect myself was detrimental in the long run. I lost my brother to suicide. And i still have trouble understanding that relationship. We were very close growing up. Until we drifted apart. Friends until high school, when his sudden budding interest in girls, sparked a fissure.

I will never fully understand suicide. The thoughts of doing away with self, once gripped me too. For thirty some years i thought it through. Jumping from second-story windows, holding my breath under pillows, imaging myself driving the car off a bridge, and holding a knife to my neck while talking to my therapist. I had my ideas. Pills and razors, ropes hanging from rafters. They all presented peace of mind.

I have wandered through the ensuing fog. I have spent countless nights in tears. I sacrificed myself for the greater good all while dying a slow death.

I started practicing art in recent years. Whether photography, watercolor, acrylics, textiles, or garden seeds, i have found my inner sense of life. In my poetic words i have tried to let you see a bit more of what stirs inside. And even though i am unable to practice my first love, dance, i found a place to move internally.

So take your bow. 
See me stand before light.
You saved a life.
In disguise. 2021

Please do not use any of my photos without my permission. Thank you.

To John. 3/1/2008.
Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry

Lay my Heart Down

Lay my heart down
and weep
what little time remains
I give it all
to you
the gift of all beauty
hidden from human eyes.
You are only fed to eager souls.

I won’t be gone long. How can I keep myself from being amongst all this grandeur?

I did a little beach cleanup. I hiked miles. I painted. I wrote. Nothing here keeps me from living. Everything here pushes me to go further. The seals and loons. The cawing of crow friends. A shy heron perched as if wind was nonexistent.

The waves rush in with new gifts of sea glass. The waves recede into the greater good. The flow of sea amends all the broken pieces of life.

Be well love, until I return.

Always, Jeanne