Boston Doors

Thursday Doors – Door Lovers

Now that I am in a new locale, I can hardly wait to share Boston doors -another door paradise!

When one door shuts, another opens. I have found this to be true. Except I am waiting for the last door opened, to shut! Please, someone buy our house in Indiana! I am begging the gods or God or Karma or even the boogey man at this point! One, because i am looking to buy a new house and nothing can happen until our old house has vanished from my mind! Yes, i am never too proud to beg! Two, i am becoming superstitious and paranoid.

Would love to open this house’s front door and settle my heart “in”doors! The rain is messing up my hair and attitude and the sun is burning my soul. Real estate hell is real!

Confessions

1/26/2018. 7:23 am. The world is still dark. I am feeling the same. My inner world needs a spark. A match to strike this fear.

This, whatever this is, is my thinking out loud and inviting you in to my space, wherever that is…

Hurry! Look over here… Here! Right here and right now, movement is happening. I peer into the roaming molecules, all bumping in to each other. No “excuse me” or “beg your pardons” just blatant “get the xxxx out of my way or else!”.

Then continue “Heck, see how important i am. i am the queen of this world after all and you need to be ruled. Right?”

“Wrong!”

“Go ahead. Talk back. Be visible!” i tell myself.

Laying, lifeless, in the core of my soul, is an orange dot. An identified solar system rotates, bowing to this dot because it radiates warmth. But the surrounding air is so cold… this dot burns out.

This! Whatever this dot is, is attempting to pull me through a black hole. Deeper still, i stumble. I fall.

“Captain! all planets and stars identified!” A pause in time ensues. “How would you like to proceed?”

jeanne ๐Ÿงก๐Ÿ•Š๐ŸŽถ๐ŸŽถ๐ŸŽถ

follow

We may not understand someone’s journey, poetry or faith, but bloggers can appreciate those who stop by and spend time looking at our posts. A sign of camaraderie. We learn from each other, fall in love with works of art but also find objection and feel deep opinions. Gratitude reminds us we are alive. Life’s music, our heart beating as a drum; clearing thoughts, expanding horizons, seeing hidden perspectives we might not otherwise contemplate. This is life-long learning at its best. Wisdom derived from walking in someone’s shoes.

follow: to move forward along a road, path, river or sea

Life is a dance. Whether you glide over discouragement or stub your toes and scrape your knees, we celebrate how far we have come and know we will make it to the finish line. Still. Moving. Forward. What better gift is that? Encouragement to be yourself and love.

Image result for follow images

You may see beauty in photography, paintings, poetry, quilting, dance or other writings. You are far above the crowd who struggle in boots that do not fit. They have not found out where they belong. We all have purpose and perhaps our art is to serve others. Vincent van Gogh had a beautiful understanding of life. Yet he did not belong. A tragic Shakespearean play. The end of Van Gogh’s story was not to be but to be in future minds and hearts. A visionary? He knew color would be accepted and plowed forth in confidence. We understood a little too late but understand just the same. We pray for those struggling.

my favorite painting on exhibit.
i even bought the poster.
it spoke to me
in silence i heard
his plea.
love me.

Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well.
Love is the greatest gift we give. His art was not appreciated until he was gone. I challenge each of us to love today. Do not let another chance disappear to smile and say hello.
I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.
I recently attended the Art Institute of Chicago’s exhibit “Van Gogh’s bedrooms”. His paintings up close do his work justice. Brushstrokes exemplifying life. Vivid colors to cheer a depressed world. A tragedy that his love went unnoticed. He continues to influence art lover’s with passion.
We feel him.
We know him.
We are him.