The song of Fall.

This is what happiness looks like
surely.
This light, this love,
this colour.
How the sun loves this season.
Hopping from leaf to leaf
lighting up the souls of roots
and trees,
and that lone, mute wanderer,
with eyes that fill her face
and a voice lost somewhere
along the sidewalks and silent woods,
content to fill her body with
the rustles of fallen leaves
and the dappled golden light.
This is all I need to know of life,
of light, of love.
This becoming,
and then this glorious, blazing
un-becoming.

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Crowns of blue.

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Of Crowns and Things. Acrylics on Canvas. 8″ x 10″

I love painting abstract-ish paintings. I like their looseness, their spontaneity, their expansiveness. There are no boundaries and anything goes. I really like the way this one turned out! Happiness is me!🙂

 

 

Unfiltered.

I wish to do this. I do that. Some of the time. All of the time. Now. Never. Always. We are a luscious bunch of contradictions.

Unedited, unfiltered, unapologetic. How thoughts flow like rivers and veins catch on fire from the up-pouring, the roaring in the ears of words, feelings, thoughts, sensations, deja-vus. Flooding the gates of consciousness. Drowning.

Unedited, unfiltered, unapologetic. Walking through life, walking in a pod of silence, empty, filtering in the sounds of the natural world, the light, the perfume, the dance of growth and decay. Floating.

This is it. The true essence.

Unedited, unfiltered, unapologetic, who am I, who are you?

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Truly.

Fire

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Bless that path
in those woods, dark
and damp,
and on fire, that
lead me to these tongues
of flame
oddly cool from the dew
when I could feel their heat
on my face, in my eyes,
lighting, lighting up my world
with their breath.

Done!

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Acrylics on Canvas 24″ x  48″

This baby has been through so many changes, transformations. A dab here, a swath there! I love the quick ‘furtive’ movements of adding a dab here, a dab there, a detail here, a detail there…and I love the wide expansive  movement of my arm and my palm as I put down broad strokes of paint in corners, on the face. That part, to me, is why I paint. It’s a dance. It’s moving with the painting. Of emerging with it.

 

To be wise or not to be..

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My heart felt wise today for no other reason than that it wanted to. And I, foolishly perhaps, let it, because this feeling is so very rare.
Maybe our old souls know all the wisdom of the ages but it is buried deep deep within the wells of our hearts and only comes to the surface, shimmering, under a certain light, or a certain need. Then it comes bounding up when one least expects it, and in that moment, one feels as though it has always been there like an old familiar face or a song…waiting to be seen…to be heard.

Rituals

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Simple rituals that yet settle the heart. The soft intimacy of journaling by candlelight. Especially now that dawn arrives with slower, more hesitant feet. Reaching for the day through solitude.

:: the candle light looks like two ducks floating on water, doesn’t it? ::

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You don’t walk away from this sight. You stand, and you gaze into its liquid eyes, and you thank your lucky stars to be a part of this world that has such beauty in it. Such simplicity. And you do this every single day. Again, and again, and again..