My world is often filled with green things and hello
Today my lovely friend Debi sent me the entire chapter entitled ‘oasis’ from ‘wind, sand and stars’ to read….and these lines resonated with me (well…the whole of the chapter gave me such a profound and curious sense of dazzled recognition but these lines leapt off the page)
‘Space is not the measure of distance. A garden wall at home may enclose more secrets than the Great Wall of China, and the soul of a little girl is better guarded by silence than the Sahara’s oases by the surrounding sands. I dropped down to earth once somewhere in the world. It was near Concordia, in the Argentine, but it might have been anywhere at all, for mystery is everywhere.’
~wind, sand, and stars ~
Oh yes.
Today I am working on an interview I was asked to do for a very talented and provocative woman and I am realizing with such a fervor that I am drawn to subjects which grace the gorgeous and essential rhythms of the natural world….springtime (of course), the changes of the moon, the tides of the seas, the chatter of rivers, language of leaves and the constant and eternal presence of the stars. Amen.
It is most certainly a beautiful Sunday as I rise up this morning listening to Bob Marley records, puttering around my studio in a sleepy reverie. It is a morning of being here, (remembering there) decorating my studio and pondering where to get tiny boxes I can paint as little homes for my five word poems. (which I think will be my most humble christmas gift this year to friends) There is a sweet rabbit I am considering adopting (already i am certain she is an ‘eliza’) and loads of old family photo’s to scan in my new scanner. (the Epson Perfection V500 which is BRILLIANT!!!)
a poem…
the handspring
How me of me, I know, to blame it all
on that little hampered run, that running tiptoe
and the world swung up on your fingertips
as if it were nothing, or at least the weight of nothing.
~don paterson ~
(poems are little epiphanies , of this I am certain)
p.s. i am behind in my e~mails but for those who are asking about the color of my living room and studio I matched cloverdale paints (because i have a contact there and they are much cheaper) to benjamin moore colors ~ “firefly’ for the living room and “happily ever afer’ for the studio)
These lovely purpled blooms are in my garden. It has little stone steps down to a vegetable garden, apples trees i am stringing with lights ~ and many mysteries i have yet to unearth. My garden is terribly overgrown and backs onto a meandering english path called Adam’s Lane in Crescent Beach. There is such an abandoned, magical wild beauty I adore in in my garden sanctuary. We are getting to know one another quite beautifully ~ oh~ and I can even hear the ocean whilst I am puttering about:)
It’s the weekend! Soon…I shall share photo’s of my new home, garden….golden painted walls and stacks of books with you. (never, ever enough book shelves) In the meantime I am delving in five word stories/poesies inspired by the poetic incidental music..listening to Otis Redding….and planning my birthday/house warming gathering. The leaves are tumbling in a colorful swirl all aflutter these days and hot cocoa is making an appearance with a dash of chili pepper for a little somethin’ extra:)
I am so happy with my new tripod I found in a thrift shop ~ it is metal and collapses down to a tabletop size ~ I used it for this shot perched on a picnic table. This image make me feel quite poetic and is called “I make only permanent tenderness’ ~ I am sure he would say I also make a lot of trouble but he’s wrong:) It is Monday and Monday is throwing challenges my way so while I am listening to a wonderful mix of songs my girlfriend made me, I thought I would throw a few links your way by way of compensation:)
Also a big shout out of appreciation for my beautiful friend Catherine who let me fling myself on her couch yesterday, drink her entire collection of tea and clean out her tin of homemade cookies while I talked about myself the whole time.
Very rude. Next time it’s your turn Cath ~ I promise:)
Isn’t reading in bed the most wonderful way to start your day? Especially if you have a deliciously robust cup of coffee in your favorite mug and a slice of toast with butter and marmalade. Up at the cabin I have been reading 19 varieties of Gazelle by Naomi Shihab Nye and this unexpectedly beautiful book called How to talk to birds by Richard Davids which I found in a thrift shop for a dollar. In the world of photography I am enjoying ‘L’orient d’un photographie’ which I find simply stunning beyond belief. Stormy weather has a way of enticing you between the pages of a good book as well ~ tell me, what have you read lately that you might recommend to me?
today a poem for you…
Did you ever see a bee’s little bucket?
I was 39 before I saw. Dipping into flowers,
the bee holds the bucket with it’s feet,
filling it, flying home pollen~rich
and if someone puts a screen at the mouth
of the hive, the bucket catches when
the bee flies in. It has a handle.
Where does it get the bucket?
It spins it from it’s own body.
Why are bees so lucky?
And the boy in my house stoops
to the ground, gathering clipped grass,
piling mountains on the sidewalk,
light draining quietly from the street.
Saying “Stop,” saying “Watch,”
and I want to, because in this world
there is nothing better to do.
