'this song of skin'...

happy sunday

'in the unconscious'....

happy sunday

'undressed to the cadence of june'...

happy sunday

sunday...

1) lalovelist ; 2) lalovelist ; 3) david sims for chloé ; 4) brian w. ferry ; 5) ditte isager

'i have loved hours at sea, gray cities,

the fragile scent of a flower,

music, the making of a poem

that gave me heaven for an hour;

first stars above a snowy hill,

voices of people kindly and wise,

and the great look of love, long hidden,

found at last in meeting eyes'

~ from 'i have loved hours at sea', by sara teasdale

1) brian w. ferry ; 2) alice gao ; 3) tec petaja ; 4) d'art photographie ; 5) chris tubbs

happy sunday

'willow wind'...

'willow wind'

carry my calm with your willowy sway, bough bent in perfect arc.  a ballerina's tip toed reach into floor... middle pulled up by angel's breath...

that breath. oh, your sweet breath pours through the organ, holding me captive by your temptress hand.  drawn out as the subtle sweeping, always eluding, rolls 'round my back.  a lover's whispered caress.  wisps of hair tossed in a floating, teasing dance of fingers and will... one moment ahead, anticipation of my instinctual move.  that huff of exasperation, exhaled from my lips as i reach with that hopeless, eternal struggle to grasp a presence which lives outside the limitations of my silly, mortal need to control.  

oh, and here, the petal, enchanted by your singular magic, fluttering past my captivated eyes.  little bird's song magnified by your waves.  leaves and twigs and hollowed trunk, joining in a neighbor's applause, in appreciation of the show... a domino wave falling 'round the world.  and, i'll clap my hands with you, to endeavor for your concerto harmony.  until my arm's fly out as if i lived inside that little bird's feathers.  




please, carry me up with you.  i want to soar, my middle tumbling to the earth below.  we try so hard, little bird.  how you must laugh at our feeble attempts to attain your simplistic grandeur.  are you flattered by our imitation?  our mocking struggle to prove




alway's one step behind, just a second too late.  moment's wasted in our inability to still and the endless caper of searching.  all in a world who's dance card has filled up by those more majestic on their toes.  




you know this, wind.  you tease with your knowledge and play on our universal ego




  until there is release, we'll never fly by your hands

the trill of the birds' promise...

sunday thoughts ~ 

the trill of the birds' promise, messenger of time  

dialects of song, relaying the universal language of seasonal progression; still remembering to recognize the circle of each new day's time along the larger path

traveling band of sound waves carried to hungry ears.  the epidemic spreading of an infectious joy

earth listens carefully; trustworthy provider, nodding to the call with breaths of warming air

slow, patient crackling undertone as the ground carries the thaw on a northerly trek and sleeping life stretches toward a new year

progression of a flower...

sunday thoughts  ~ sculpture pieced together, twisting strands of thought, mental images, pulled through needle, stitched from memory... 

thinking today, as i complete this sculpture in fabric inspired by the daffodil, of the parallel between nature and art

 in nature, a flower bears seed, scattered by wind; reaching deep within the earth, grabbing hold and blossoming anew to the light, preparing to continue the cycle.

but, can the same not be said for the creativity of the mind and the resulting construction of art?  instead of sun, water, and soil, we use thoughts, dreams, tools, and hands to create.  inspiration harvested from the scattered seeds of those who created before us... built upon centuries of ideas and work, cultivating for new growth in the centuries to come

we hold onto these individual treasures for as long as we can.  in nature and in art this may last for days or for generations.  but ideas passed on can live forever... ideas waiting to plant themselves and give life to something new

'daffodil bulb' ~ wool soft sculpture

your yesterday and tomorrow...

sunday thoughts ~ jet trails sailing across the blue, melting into tomorrow... an imprint of the journey, a path to follow home 

 light reaching, catching the passing time, the dwelling place, the changing skin.... caressing and pulling away once more, bearing pieces into the streaming air, scattering to form the earth below

fragments of you, your life, your past... so far from my reach, so completely unknown to me, yet here i bathe in you, breath filled with your memory, feet walking on your yesterday... 

love...

sunday thoughts ~ poetry, from the pure of heart, gifted to me for this day of love.  an idea formed by my nephew, words conjured in sweet innocence:

"hearts are red, violets are blue.  


roses are pink... and i love you." 


~ my nephew, age 7

"flowers glimmer pink and white, and the sun glowing.  


when ever they blend, it's really tulips blooming in the sunshine.  


tulips grow in the day." 


~ my niece, age 4

words to cherish forever, by two who've claimed large pieces of my heart

happy valentine's day

oh you beautiful, beautiful season...

from my flickr

sunday thoughts... toes in salt water, warm breeze on my cheek, fingers grasping for sand, watering flowers just opening to morning's light, bright blue skies, naps under the tree's shade, skirt flowing around bare legs...

my sister spotted the first forsythia in bloom, yesterday, here in georgia... mmm, spring is finally within reach... more than just a winter's dream