I hear, I speak

Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridges to bow for the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water looking out
in different directions.

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after the news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you
looking up from tables we are saying thank you
in a culture up to its chin in shame
living in the stench it has chosen we are saying thank you
over telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators
remembering wars and the police at the back door
and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you
in the banks that use us we are saying thank you
with the crooks in office with the rich and fashionable
unchanged we go on saying thank you thank you

with the animals dying around us
our lost feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us like the earth
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is

~W. S. Merwin

**Painting – Listen by the marvelous Jennifer Davis

never bored

Voyage of the Faithful, 24"x18", 2012

Sometimes “the magic” is forged between laundry, meal preparations, first aid-ing, refereeing and question responding. Without this pressure cooker I doubt I would fight for the bursts of creating like I do. And most certainly it would matter less.

Mark-making/painting/illustrating/imaging/drawing is, after all, a spoke off the wheel of my life and without it or any of the other spokes I would be in a ditch somewhere cursing the oblongness of my tire. Each spoke carries the balance of the weight of the ride, bringing order to the exertion.

Appreciating the momentum instead of being swept away by it, therein lies the tension and the joy.

“Your problem is how you are going to spend this one and precious life you have been issued. Whether you’re going to spend it trying to look good and creating the illusion that you have power over circumstances, or whether you are going to taste it, enjoy it and find out the truth about who you are.” -Anne Lamott

**Paper Cut, Voyage of the Faithful, by Erin Cross.

crawling out of my skin and after the wind

Image

This last week nearly did me in.  I love my family. They invigorate me, move me, mature me.  . . And exhaust me.  When summer comes we have a while to forge out a rhythm and I do ok. . . .but spring break just isn’t long enough to pull it together for me.  

So I spin, whirring to keep the chaos from swallowing us.  But all the spinning makes me dizzy and sometimes grappling for a foothold. Today I awoke with a fragile attitude.  I could’ve gone either way and it seemed to be slipping to the dark side fast.

But he knew, he always does. I’d be locked away somewhere rocking ceaselessly in the fetal position without him. No joke.

He(Eddy) gently, tentatively approached the caged bird(Me) and encouraged her to take a walk(or fly) near the lake to start afresh.  This usually works well for her cluttered birdlike mind.  But instead she hissed something like I haven’t even had my coffee and I’ve got a billion things to do and I’m not really open to suggestions at the moment, so take that idea and shove it. . .well, she thought that last part, which is almost like saying it.  Poor guy.

Dagnabbit. He was right. He knows me too well. Thank goodness.

The rhythmic lapping water instantly cast its spell clearing my head. The gentle spring breeze pricked at my skin and realigned my bones. The deep vibrant colors of life outside seeped into my veins and awakened my spirit.  The steadiness of the earth beneath me, the rocks around me, the trees beside me solidified my weary stance. 

No longer disengaged and merely surviving I reattached to my senses and heard the birds.  

No longer stuck in my stale quarters futilely chasing after my tail I was set free in the big wide world chasing the wild wind.  

I can see and feel again.

And now I am here! 

Reconnected. . .  as a made creature to my Maker.

nothing new under the sun

Humus_photo by Job Janssen & Jan Adriaans

“Our lives are like islands in the sea,

or like trees in the forest,

which co-mingle their roots in the darkness underground.

Just so there is a continuum of cosmic consciousness,

against which our individuality builds but accidental fences,

and into which our several minds plunge as into a mother sea or reservoir.”

 - William James

**Installation piece, Humus by Giuseppe Licari

on the brink

Live Ideas poster

Brains are on the brain lately.

We’re talking Oliver Sacks (Awakenings, etc) type amazing stuff.

It started with this – Over the last several years I’ve discovered that I have the most fluidity in my creative process when I combine learning with imagination, i.e. Science Fiction.  As I research and uncover new understandings about the world around me, creativity naturally expresses itself. I kept thinking. . .there had to be a connection. . . and behold, there is!

My doctor(who specializes in Brain Based Therapy) has been educating me more on the importance of a balanced brain which explains the following:

Order restoration – When I don’t exercise both hemispheres of my brain equally the imbalance creates chaos not only in my work, but in the whole of my life. Mixing routine and research with daydreams and imagining provides the perfect environment for creativity to flourish. It’s like an incubator set at the right temperature and humidity. . .

Of course there are other elements and aspects of this highly complex but intriguing area that come into play such as physical exercise, spiritual health, etc. . . this is merely a surface scratcher. . .I’m just sayin’!