Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Monday, June 25, 2012
Accomplishing the Non-writing Tasks
I have so much to accomplish this week that it is making my 'to do' list look a bit scary. Of course, as it's Monday, the week ahead looks even more daunting than it really is.
The weekend was very productive though. I went to a neighborhood garage sale and found some great items for my art at a very cheap price. I found several wood frames that are perfect for framing quilt blocks, and 10 rolls of wallpaper priced at $1.00 each that are perfect for the mosaics of large furniture such as the old double bed I have upstairs in storage. I also have several large tables to complete... I wonder how much new rolls of wallpaper cost? I will have to check that out...
I am working on a quilt block and frame for my sister-in-law's birthday, which we will celebrate this coming Saturday at my house. Luckily, the house is in good shape for company, so I won't have much house work to do to prepare for company. The wash needs to get done, of course, but today the weather is cool and I won't mind running the dryer, ( when it is too hot, I hate running the dryer as it just adds more heat in the house).
The biggest and most horrible thing I have to accomplish is getting the yard and the back deck in shape. My lawnmower broke last year, and because of my broken car issues that need to get fixed, I haven't had any money to buy a lawnmower. Consequently, the backyard looks like an overgrown field of tall grass that is in need of harvesting. I have no idea how I am going to get it under control enough to get it back to normal. Luckily, my brother emailed me today telling me he would bring a mower and whatever was needed to get it done including my nephews to help out. We all should be able to tame it back. I am very grateful for their help. Tomorrow I will start on the deck. My friend, Christin, wants to help me out there, and we should get it done in an afternoon. Again, I am very grateful.
Other than that my week will be filled with the writings of a mad-woman. I am working on my story again, and writing takes up much of my time so I must get the big non-writing things out of the way.
The weekend was very productive though. I went to a neighborhood garage sale and found some great items for my art at a very cheap price. I found several wood frames that are perfect for framing quilt blocks, and 10 rolls of wallpaper priced at $1.00 each that are perfect for the mosaics of large furniture such as the old double bed I have upstairs in storage. I also have several large tables to complete... I wonder how much new rolls of wallpaper cost? I will have to check that out...
I am working on a quilt block and frame for my sister-in-law's birthday, which we will celebrate this coming Saturday at my house. Luckily, the house is in good shape for company, so I won't have much house work to do to prepare for company. The wash needs to get done, of course, but today the weather is cool and I won't mind running the dryer, ( when it is too hot, I hate running the dryer as it just adds more heat in the house).
The biggest and most horrible thing I have to accomplish is getting the yard and the back deck in shape. My lawnmower broke last year, and because of my broken car issues that need to get fixed, I haven't had any money to buy a lawnmower. Consequently, the backyard looks like an overgrown field of tall grass that is in need of harvesting. I have no idea how I am going to get it under control enough to get it back to normal. Luckily, my brother emailed me today telling me he would bring a mower and whatever was needed to get it done including my nephews to help out. We all should be able to tame it back. I am very grateful for their help. Tomorrow I will start on the deck. My friend, Christin, wants to help me out there, and we should get it done in an afternoon. Again, I am very grateful.
Other than that my week will be filled with the writings of a mad-woman. I am working on my story again, and writing takes up much of my time so I must get the big non-writing things out of the way.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Tuesday, So Much Better than Monday
Well, it's Tuesday, so much better than Monday. I've never much cared for Mondays, and not be cause it's the beginning of the work week. I am just not motivated on Mondays even if I am not working. The energy is sucked out of me from the moment I wake up. I have no desire to accomplish anything, or even to talk to anyone. I wander around in a daze, dabbling at this or that, but never finishing anything. I try to write, and the words come out in an incoherent jumble. I start an art project, but I have no focus so that the straight lines curve, and the curved lines angle. I watch a movie, but my mind wanders. For me, Mondays are a waste of time. Maybe I should rename Mondays to something like Smileday or Danceday or Musicday... That might change my perspective. Who knows?
But for now, it's Tuesday and I am full to the brim with happiness!!! :)
But for now, it's Tuesday and I am full to the brim with happiness!!! :)
Monday, June 18, 2012
Dragonfly Dreams
Dragon circled the earth by night,
Dropping dreams along his path,
Forming ripples in known reality,
With illusion, he altered the truth of sight.
He lit the sky with his breath of fire,
In guiding patterns for all to see,
Tiny specs of brilliant beams
To hang forever on invisible wire.
The air stirred through his sparkling scales
Filling the Earth with echoed melody.
Light of fire to drops of rain reflected
With colors too vibrant to pale.
His power of enchantment and insight grew
To transcending change of thought and form
Till pride caught him in his own veneer
When challenged to change his shape to new.
Dragon writhed in his newfound form,
Unable to escape his own illusion.
As he thrashed about, his scales burst forth
Raining down to earth in a radiant swarm.
Each scale a Dragonfly with nothing to hide
Is all that is left of Dragon.
Skimming the water, it hovers on air
And warns of the perils of succumbing to pride.
Dragonfly guides us to truth through dreams
On wings that illuminate our lives to transform.
Reminding our gifts come from the Creator,
And that life is never the same as it seems.
Dropping dreams along his path,
Forming ripples in known reality,
With illusion, he altered the truth of sight.
He lit the sky with his breath of fire,
In guiding patterns for all to see,
Tiny specs of brilliant beams
To hang forever on invisible wire.
The air stirred through his sparkling scales
Filling the Earth with echoed melody.
Light of fire to drops of rain reflected
With colors too vibrant to pale.
His power of enchantment and insight grew
To transcending change of thought and form
Till pride caught him in his own veneer
When challenged to change his shape to new.
Dragon writhed in his newfound form,
Unable to escape his own illusion.
As he thrashed about, his scales burst forth
Raining down to earth in a radiant swarm.
Each scale a Dragonfly with nothing to hide
Is all that is left of Dragon.
Skimming the water, it hovers on air
And warns of the perils of succumbing to pride.
Dragonfly guides us to truth through dreams
On wings that illuminate our lives to transform.
Reminding our gifts come from the Creator,
And that life is never the same as it seems.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Blocked
Fragments of thought on bits of paper
Circle my desk and clog my mind.
Try as I might I cannot put them together;
Writing can sometimes be terribly unkind.
I am busy lately with work and chores.
Yet, still I’m inspired by all I hear and see.
Maybe a vacation on distant shores
Will bend words to stanzas the way they should be.
But for now I’ll continue to jot note and word
Of life’s inspirations I meet on my road.
Then one day soon, they will want to be heard
And together the words will be easily sewed.
Circle my desk and clog my mind.
Try as I might I cannot put them together;
Writing can sometimes be terribly unkind.
I am busy lately with work and chores.
Yet, still I’m inspired by all I hear and see.
Maybe a vacation on distant shores
Will bend words to stanzas the way they should be.
But for now I’ll continue to jot note and word
Of life’s inspirations I meet on my road.
Then one day soon, they will want to be heard
And together the words will be easily sewed.
Friday, June 08, 2012
A Single Morning
With Earth's
soft rotation
The song of Dawn
Splits the silence of night.
As light fractures dark
From a gradient crescent
Of the Sun's rise on the horizon.
Rainbow hues spread
To vanquish the Sky's black void
And fades the Moon and the maps of Stars.
The sights and sounds of a single morning
Verges to visions and songs so vivid,
That the very Soul swells to overflow in unison.
And in this mystic momentum
Every atom ascends
To join in projecting the power of Creation.
The song of Dawn
Splits the silence of night.
As light fractures dark
From a gradient crescent
Of the Sun's rise on the horizon.
Rainbow hues spread
To vanquish the Sky's black void
And fades the Moon and the maps of Stars.
The sights and sounds of a single morning
Verges to visions and songs so vivid,
That the very Soul swells to overflow in unison.
And in this mystic momentum
Every atom ascends
To join in projecting the power of Creation.
Monday, June 04, 2012
On the Grey Days
It is again another rainy, cold, grey day here in Summerville, New York. Too many days like this in a row make me feel a little lost. In November of 2007 I wrote a poem to express my feelings about the grey days, and thought I would like to share it here...
On the Grey Days
On the grey days
I miss
The Sun's light,
The blue Sky
With wispy clouds.
I want
To heat
And dry
The air outside.
On the grey days
The bare trees
And sleeping gardens
Make me sad,
Impatient.
And sometimes
I am quick to anger.
I think too much.
On the grey days
I try
To hibernate,
To retreat.
I close
The blinds
Against
The Sky.
I avoid
Nature's course.
On the grey days
I warm the house,
And cook,
And clean.
I turn
The music up
Just a notch,
Always playing
In the background.
On the grey days
I find it hard
To talk,
To express
My thoughts
Except through
Written words.
And even then,
I think...
On the grey days,
I do not understand
Myself.
On the Grey Days
On the grey days
I miss
The Sun's light,
The blue Sky
With wispy clouds.
I want
To heat
And dry
The air outside.
On the grey days
The bare trees
And sleeping gardens
Make me sad,
Impatient.
And sometimes
I am quick to anger.
I think too much.
On the grey days
I try
To hibernate,
To retreat.
I close
The blinds
Against
The Sky.
I avoid
Nature's course.
On the grey days
I warm the house,
And cook,
And clean.
I turn
The music up
Just a notch,
Always playing
In the background.
On the grey days
I find it hard
To talk,
To express
My thoughts
Except through
Written words.
And even then,
I think...
On the grey days,
I do not understand
Myself.
Sunday, June 03, 2012
Back to Earth
Stepping silent onto the forest’s floor, beneath my naked
feet
Our Mother Earth arouses my senses to immerse my Being.
Her calming colors of somber browns and greens and golds,
Meld together to enfold me in Her arms of solace.
Her fragrance is heavy, pungent, and moist with a decadent musk
That is saturate with new life springing from old death.
As I listen, my hearing is acute to a harmonious song
And I am surrounded by the swell of Nature’s music.
While high above me a lilting breeze strums the leaves of trees
To join the melodic ripples of a gently flowing stream
That plays the underscore to a menagerie of birds calling in chorus.
And as every living thing ignites in motion and voice to sing
My breath and heart unite and give rhythm to this endless song.
I am overcome as Mother Earth’s purity begins to flow within me
And slowly seeps to light the ancient flame of the Creator’s Spirit
That forever resides deep within the confines of my Soul.
Our Mother Earth arouses my senses to immerse my Being.
Her calming colors of somber browns and greens and golds,
Meld together to enfold me in Her arms of solace.
Her fragrance is heavy, pungent, and moist with a decadent musk
That is saturate with new life springing from old death.
As I listen, my hearing is acute to a harmonious song
And I am surrounded by the swell of Nature’s music.
While high above me a lilting breeze strums the leaves of trees
To join the melodic ripples of a gently flowing stream
That plays the underscore to a menagerie of birds calling in chorus.
And as every living thing ignites in motion and voice to sing
My breath and heart unite and give rhythm to this endless song.
I am overcome as Mother Earth’s purity begins to flow within me
And slowly seeps to light the ancient flame of the Creator’s Spirit
That forever resides deep within the confines of my Soul.
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