Friday, February 27, 2009

Thursday, February 26, 2009

And when we woke it was like nothing
Ever dreamt before this: wrist, neck,
The hollow behind the knee, your hair

Filling my hands, all of it while we turned
And turned until we were unforgivable,
Adamant with bark, as if a wayward god had come

Upon us, bewitching breast to breast, fingers
Still tracing a vein, a thigh
No longer intent on destination

But in the keep of one limb resting on another, breath
Lingering in leaves, at the edge of a road
Where we were once lost, your hand faithful

In its nest, your mouth on my mouth
Caught, our feet tangled, looking for earth.

-The Tree by Sophie Cabot Black
(something I am dreaming of...)

Wednesday, February 25, 2009


Why do you follow me?--
Any moment I can be
Nothing but a laurel-tree.

Any moment of the chase
I can leave you in my place
A pink bough for your embrace.

Yet if over hill and hollow
Still it is your will to follow,
I am off;--to heel, Apollo!

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Monday, February 23, 2009

I am enjoying this mood of unfeeling, which sounds like a contradiction but is somehow how this is working. I think it is emotional survival mode. It makes me not really feel like posting, I have nothing to say. The reality of this is that I am not really speaking here to who I want to speak to. I have given up, it is too difficult to pick up the scraps of hope in the impossible dream. I am concentrating on enjoying little moments, it is all we ever have. Our stories will be forgotten when we pass on.

Snowy Owl

Thursday, February 19, 2009

I falls

Really none of it matters at all, in the long view. In the long view everything fades, joy, sorrow, loss. So today I am just here, this right now, not tomorrow, not 5 minutes from now, not yesterday. None of it gains significance at all, we live second by second. The swan pushes up raises her wings and runs over the water. The air feels good, catch me if you want or let me go. It is not my choice, it never was. I have held so much sorrow, so I can only live in glimpses now. Otherwise I would get sucked under the water and be unable to fly. I love who I love, so what. Life is little glimpses into something more. I am surviving this desperate sorrow, with bravery.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Blue bird morning

Everything that was no longer exists;
everything that is to be does not yet exist."

-Alfred de Musset

Sunday, February 15, 2009

I have heard that this time of doubt and sorrow will end, it came to me today. I saw a vulture and the thought filled my mind and eased me somewhat. The show was great and really the time I spent around the show was comforting. It was wonderful to be in a place of welcoming possibility, to feel movement around some dreams you have. I found it difficult to transition into being home today. All the stuff I am stuck dealing with came back and suffocated me. I was down all day with the whys and the doubt mostly the doubt. I want so much to know what is the best thing to do and I just have such great doubt. I know how I feel, that is not in question as difficult as it is. I am wondering how to act upon what I feel. I am going to be patient, which is generally tough for me as I am a person of action.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Steal me away
get closer
I can sense your eyes on me
we circle in a swan dance
I turn to you always
reach over a feather graze
dream of painting your wings
your perfect eyes
the circle of us spins on
among my colored dreams
Please steal me

-By the Corbyhawk

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

So I sent up some intentions tonight for my show and for other things...
I bow my head down and sit with humility.

Here is to hope, raise your heart to it despite all the darkness I still believe in the possibility of love and joy. I will find my way.

I will.

Monday, February 09, 2009

I will be very busy getting ready for the big show, so be well my dears and wait for me, I will be back.

Sunday, February 08, 2009

Life occasionally kicks you in the gut, you fall over curled up into yourself and you think that you can get up from this. You just need some time, to get through the pain of the blow. You had strong kicks before, although this one is so much more. Still you think you can do this, you are strong and people depend on your strength. So you lay there for a moment, sucking in air and you know when you are out of it things will be different but maybe you will find some moments of peace and happiness again. Then when you are down, life kicks you in the face. Rough and cruel, this blow changes the course you thought you were on. I cannot but feel that all this is leading somewhere, I have to believe this. I cannot think otherwise or I would not be able to wipe off my face and stand up to face life as it comes at me.

Friday, February 06, 2009

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Oh, owl I have tried to walk away and to do what is right.
To give up on something so amazing, incredible, just plain brilliant, because I know I should.
It is hard to turn away from blue violets
and I do not want to, really. If you could say, but I am happier here without you. Are you?
I can say I am not owl, these days are long and I want night to visit me with dreams.
Today I thought I was a fool to walk onwards, but then I felt you near.
You open doors to dreams, so it was never a waste to follow you.
I am so glad for it, for this feeling and how it has manifested, glorious
to even be a friend, I am lucky for that. I know this is so. So I walked in a circle but have gained understanding along the way.

Monday, February 02, 2009

Pine Siskin

The Darkling Thrush

By Thomas Hardy

I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-grey,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be
The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.

Sunday, February 01, 2009

a snippett of a Harris

I have a BIG show coming soon, here is a piece of one of my paintings for it. I certainly need some good stuff around here.