Labor Day Weekend

Funny, thus far, I have spent this so called holiday laboring! As I will continue for there is still so much work to do around this house.

Decided it was time for the dead wild flowers to be mowed. Difficult task, yet done. The main little creatures hopping out were grasshoppers. Yellow and green ones safely made their way out before the death of the blade. Same as for the lizard, blue tailed. As I was mowing the rest of my back yard, I thought I saw something blue in my vision fly by. Then I saw the lizard safely scurrying up a tree trunk. When I mow my grass, I always think about my father. Hearing that lawn moyer running, smelling the sweetness of the grass. Growing up, we had a big apple tree. It had different kinds of apples on it. My mom said that is why it was so unique. I have a pear tree, waiting to be plucked. It is in my front yard, yet hangs over my fence into my back yard. It makes for a delicious mouth watering fragrance as I mow by it.

The photo on the left is my mom and dad when they were dating. The one beside it was taken on their wedding day, 1-28-1944, in Wilmington, NC, where I was born.

My painting is called "Fairytale". 16" x 20" Acrylic on canvas.

Why Cry Now?

"Why cry now, your journey has only just begun." These were the magical words which lead to a literal trail of tears. I do not recall where or when these words were said to me, yet, they lead to countless emails of emptying myself, emptying my soul of a lifetime full of hurt. For whatever reason, I had held years and years of pain bottled up inside of me.

This was my first painting with acrylic on canvas. 23 3/4" X 25 3/4"

Seed

Being that this blog* was written under the influence of a mojito (shot of rum, club soda, squirt of lime, twig of mint) which I made myself after coming home from the gas of the dentist's office, I was going to delete this blog. Yet, recognizing where it arrived from, a past experience, which truly has more to tell than this tale itself. It is about the tea ceremony, which I will elaborate more later, for now, I am at work so this will have to wait until I get home....

Now, one of my earlier conversations, while I was still attending the church, back in early 2005, if my memory serves me, I was searching for a place to get away from all which was going on in my life. I was in total confusion. Dan told me about the "tea ceremony". He said all I needed was a "little space". He suggested I pick up an object which comforted me, and clear just a little room to myself. The above photo of the "eagle", was the first object I picked up. It is a crystal paperweight someone had given me as a gift. I then went down to my living room, cleared a little space on my coffee table, placed the eagle next to a small running waterfall, with a candle on top of it, and lit the candle. The waterfall had pebbles around it. I sat focusing on that eagle, trying to clear my thoughts. Soon after, the waterfall itself, which made a "humming" noise was distracting me. It was the electronics itself, not the actual sound of the water. I turned it off. I began practicing this for a very long time.

Ok, I came back again to address this. "Proof" - don't know much about "proof", but I do know that Dan shared some wonderous stories with me. So, it seems to me, with "proof" aside, that stories need to be shared.

In one of our emails, I said to him, after him sharing so many amazing stories with me, "I wish I could tell stories like you." His response, "Your wish is granted. I never know when this is going to happen, but, (yea, that but, yet again-another story), you have the ability to be a storyteller." So, there you have it for now. It appears as if I will continue sharing these stories. The quote was not exact. It was said more beautifully than I was able to quote it. Which takes me to his Walter Calhoun story. James Mooney, (not sure of spelling), he was Walter Calhoun's uncle. James Mooney was allowed to visit with the Cherokee's. Tsalagi ? (something to that effect...the correct name for Cherokee). Anyway, Dan spent an afternoon with Mr. Calhoun. He spent a few hours with Mr. Calhoun as he was told a story about "the eagle". Dan told me that there is a song "Eagle's Song" in which the eagle will stop in flight just to listen to the sweet melody of this song. Moving on, Dan told me he asked Mr. Calhoun if it was ok for a white man to share this story, not being Cherokee. Mr. Calhoun replied, "you can do it". Yes, it is hard to repeat a story which has been told to one, in your own words. For it seems, we all hear things differently and to try to repeat in "our own words" ... sometimes the translation gets lost. Hopefully, the meaning, such as it is meant to be, will remain. Dan also told me that when he first heard Mr. Calhoun's story regarding the eagle, he thought it was just that, a story. Yet, when he sung that song in Washington, an eagle, actually stopped, in the midst of air, to listen. Did I do this story justice??? Don't feel like I truly did. Will return to try again later.

History and life. Making it a better place for the generations to come.

Waterbugs

Ohh. Had to go back to dentist today. At our last visit, my daughter, was founded to need a filling. I needed a crown. So. As one can imagine, it was not a very good day. Yet, it was. We did what needed to be done in order to continue.

Sometimes it is not "fun" to do what needs to be done. The whole right side of my face is still "numb". I go back in 3 weeks for the permanent. They tell me it will not be as bad.

Temporary waiting on the permanent. A gold crown will, yet again, be in place. The last time was when my daughter was just a baby. We saw a baby today as we waited in the "waiting area". He was so cute. His name was "Robbie". 9 months old. As I sat watching him, I realized how smart this little being was. He went after all "electronics". Then, suddenly, a "darkness" overwhelmed me. Yes, as this numbness is still is. I could not get over this little, tiny being, reaching out to "electronics". It was quite amazing, yet, still numbness.

Growing too fast? The love, the life, the whatever, missing inbetween.

Old, traditional as it may sound...taking the time, to soak in, yes, soak in, all which was before...makes me, and yes I say only me, takes time to realize ....it is the importance,
just watch and see....if you have it all figured out... then what use are you to me??? Yes, my side of the face is still numb...yet, the memories of that numbness still surround me..

Dreaming

It came to mind that when Dan & I first began our communications, I studied "lucid dreaming". My first experience of this was a dream where it was kinda fuzzy at first beginning with images of "work stations" where I was being accused of having an affair. From there it lead outside, and I could clearly see that I was watching myself dreaming. It was a very long time ago, back when there were horses and lots of open land. The house was very old. The trees were very tall, very spooky looking. It was nighttime. I stood as I watched myself being dragged around the open dirt yard surrounding the house. I was attached to a horse by a rope. I still see "this image" as I am telling the story here. Yet, I also remember telling it to Dan, right after it happened. The thing that I most remember is that "knowing" it was a dream, it was not real; therefore, I did not feel the pain as I watched.

Dreaming made me think about what hangs over my head as I sleep. Above me to the left is the latch hook I started in 1990 when my father was diagnosed with cancer. I completed it in 1991, the week he died.

The dream catcher was given to me as a Christmas gift in 1995, right after my brother died. I had given my nephew and niece dreamcatchers for Christmas gifts that year also. This was when my brother had died 2 days before Christmas and the gift he had already left me laying under my tree was a box of notecards with "cherubs" on them.

My Grandfather

18" x 24" Acrylic on Canvas
Copyright ©2008 Mary Holly Ceragioli

18" x 24" Acrylic on Canvas

Copyright ©2008 Mary Holly Ceragioli

18" x 24" Acrylic on Canvas

Copyright ©2008 Mary Holly Ceragioli

When my grandmother died, (my mother's mother who was Irish, with my grandfather being part Cherokee) , I remember being at the funeral, and my grandfather and myself were at her coffin. My grandfather bent over and kissed her on the lips and said, "goodbye, my love". It was scary, yet, heartfelt. (I mean she was a dead corpse.) He loved her soooo much. I think the year was 1977. My grandmother had just recently got a phone in her home. She died talking on that phone. Suddenly, she had a stroke. Probably, about a year later, my grandfather was found dead on his way to answer the phone. Stories which were told to me between those deaths were that my grandmother would come to him in his sleep. She would "appear" at the end of his bed. My cousin, Sandi, telling me this story, after she walked in on my grandfather one night who was at the side of his bed, knelt on his knees & praying, and he told her of my grandmother's "appearance" during his dark, lonely nights.

When my marriage was falling apart, my mother sent me a book, "The Notebook". I cried endlessly for I knew I never knew that love which was talked about in this book. The young man had fallen in love with a young maiden, who was so full of life and had so much to offer the world. yet, her heart belonged to this young man, whom, wasn't sure of himself. He came from a financially poor family, yet, his father was so loving, so understanding. They had so many trials and tribulations which kept them apart. Similar to "Romeo & Juliet". Anyway, later on, after I was actually divorced from my husband of 18 years, and was communicating with Dan; we were talking about the ballads he was working on for 21C: "True Thomas & Tam Lin". He had been drawing/painting images from these ballads. After only a few short emails, I came to realize that Dan was the man for me. Probably desperate for "that true love", yet, not knowing, I told him about the movie I had watched which was "The Notebook". He was offended that I actually compared his "art" to a hollywood movie. I explained my grandparent's deaths. I explained how all of my life all I wanted was to be loved, by a spiritual man, and love him in return. Now, as I am talking about it, I think it was more like, an emptiness inside of me, for I never felt "spiritual". Yet, with Dan, it was a love so overpowering that I could not describe it.

In return, Dan told me about "Fannie & Alexander". The story of a uncle who lived in a very old house and his 2 nephews came to live with him. One night, the uncle got up to go pee, and the nephew appeared at the keyhole peering in. What he saw was an old man with a puppet face on (the uncle made puppets). The nephew said, "who are you". The uncle replied, "God". The nephew, who was a non-believer at the time, replied, "why have you come"? The uncle replied, "to show that I exist".

At this time, I had been having dreams of coming up out of water and actually being "kissed". Dan told me "you cannot control God. You are only seeing the face of God." I think, today, as recalling this, he was telling me that I was only seeing the horizon and could not control where it was taking me. This was in the beginning of my journey.

Our next journey took us to the ship and the kayak...riding the waves. He had just returned from Washington.

6:59:00 PM

by Happier

Theatre

My daughter wrote this for one of her many theatre assignments last year in the 9th grade. This year she is taking imagitive writing and mass media. Am excited to watch as her imagination continues to grow this year.

Beth Ceragioli
1/22/08
7th period
Ms.Cook
Romeo & Juliet Compare and Contrast

Due to the change of times, Romeo and Juliet, by Shakespeare, are seen through different eyes. The two movies being compared are directed by Franco Zeffirell, 1968, and Baz Luhrman, 1993. Franco Zeffirell used the actor Leonard Whiting and the actress Olivia Hussey. Baz Luhrman hired Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes. These two directors use Shakespeare’s play Romeo and Juliet to create a movie. They create their movies in different ways, but they also have their similarities.

Although the movies were made in different time periods, they have some similarities. Obviously, they are both based on the same play and carry the same characters, but it goes deeper than that. Both movies exhibit the same style of language, and the same type of religion. Of course, Romeo is a man who falls in love easily in both movies. All of the men in both movies are also rude, Romeo being one of the only good guys. Lastly, neither of the movies follow exactly how Shakespeare had written it many years ago.

Since the movies were made in different time periods, there are obviously going to be some differences. In the newer version the Capulets and Montagues were represented in a thuggish and vile way. The older version is extremely more believable. The new Romeo and Juliet is more diverse. The older version uses swords, but the newer version uses guns and newer forms of technology. There is also a huge setting difference, the older version looks like Italy, while the newer version looks more like a Las Vegas rip-off. Another large difference is that the newer version has to deal more with lust rather than love.

In my opinion, the older version was better. It was more like Shakespeare intended his work of art to be. Also, it is a lot more believable. I did not like how they used old English in modern day times. Another reason why I liked the older version better is because it was not “trippy” like the new version. The way the new version sped through scenes was really confusing and un-enjoyable.

In all, both movies had their high points and low points. They had many differences, but few similarities. They were both okay movies, but not “Grammy-worthy”. The original Shakespeare play Romeo and Juliet is not represented correctly in either of the movies, but they are both entertaining.

Earth Goddess

18" X 24" Acrylic on Canvas
8-2-2007

I painted this painting from a picture. When I painted her, I was discovering the different goddesses I did not learn of as younger. I was never taught any of the ancient myths. I was raised as a baptist. You sin and you go to hell. To me, as a young person, it was like, "well, guess I will be going to hell, since it appears I can't help but to sin". Then, there came Jesus. I was taught that he died on the cross to save me from my sins. Yet, again, that did not make sense. How one man could die on a cross to "save me" from my sins. Everyone told me I needed to be "baptized" to be saved. Questions, questions, and more questions. It just never made sense to me, even though the majority of my life, I prayed. I prayed to be forgiven for my sins, even though, I never really knew what my "sins" were.

While going through my divorce, I went back to a non-denominational church. There again, it was all about "Jesus". Supposedly Jesus was perfect. He never sinned. Yet, I still did. I still had the human desires. So from there, my studies lead me to learning about Jesus. Suddenly, as I read all that Jesus supposedly said in the bible, it was as if, his verses were dancing. So much more hidden in the meaning. You can be taught to "believe" ... "this is what it means"... and then you can actually "experience the dancing of the scriptures". This is too deep for even me to go into. But, I think, it is more about "controlling" more than anything else. What if there never was sin to begin with? How can "living", experiencing life be a sin? Yea, I know. Very deep.

Dan helped me to realize that God, whoever he/she/it might be is not to be feared. Fear, itself, appears to send you to hell. Sounds more like "control" than anything else. So during my studies, I came upon this beautiful creature known as the earth goddess. She made much more sense to me. To me, she is the womb, the creation, the earth. Even though I painted her from a picture, what totally amazed me was that I actually painted her. I only began painting after Dan came into my life. To me, that was a miracle. Now, it appears that life itself, is the miracle. Being a female, I can totally relate to this "goddess", so much more warming, more pleasing than the "fearful god", much more nourishing. The mind. Such a funny creature. Nothing is inside of me. I am perfect just the way I am.

Fly Wings

Last summer, I took my daughter, daughter-in-law, grandaughter, and grandson to Myrtle Beach. My sons were a bit frustrated for they were not invited. We needed time to ourselves. The trip was wonderful with the exception of "cell phones". Every time my son would call, my daughter-in-law would literally change into someone we did not enjoy being with. The early mornings were spent listening to stories my daughter-in-law would tell me. Tears flowed. Today, they are in the midst of a divorce. They had been together for 17 years. They have been fighting for 17 years.

The last two weekends I have been listening to my oldest son. He finally called after he had calmed down from his anger. I do not give "advice". If insights come, I will share. Yet, listening to what is now going on between him and his soon to be ex-wife has brought me down "memory lane". It is so like the divorce my ex and I went through. When he complains to me about what his wife is doing, I just listen. I understand both sides. I do share the similarities in our divorces. Such as the part the lawyers play. They seem to be the only ones who are benefiting from divorce through the courts. Dragged out divorces are so hard for everyone involved. My son has moved out from my mother's house and found a place of his own. He said to me, "I don't have much now, mom, but I am happy, except for fighting with the courts". It appears my grandson is having the most difficulty. He is only 9. Yet, his 9 years of his tiny life have been spent watching his parents fight. Similar to his father's childhood years.

This has been quite draining for our family. Yet, once I "drained" myself during my divorce, I was able to fill that void with so much inner peace. I know in my heart that everything will be ok, exactly the way life is suppose to be. A life full of love and laughter. Even as we go through the tears, these tears lead to laughter.

Campfires

Yesterday, my daughter asked me if she could invite some friends over for the evening. I said, "no". I explained to her how I've had teenagers coming and going in my home all of my life. I said, recalling my last episode of "teenagers", "your brother, sometimes there would be 20 + teenagers at my home when I got there". My daughter replied, with the biggest grin, "my turn now mom". I said, "ok, but, they cannot come in the house. They have to stay outside. They have to pee outside." Yes, she knew exactly what I meant. Follow the rules of my home.

I told folks at work I was having teenagers over so they supplied me with "left over breakfast foods" from the breakfast we had given that morning. That'll work. I picked up my daughter Beth and her boyfriend Daniel from school. Came home and made turkey, no, I thought I had laid out turkey, but it was actually chicken, so we had chicken burgers. While they are eating, the first to arrive was Katherine. Then came Nick followed by Connor. Then driving up was Annie and Kelsey, followed in his vehicle, Michael. Yes, I interrogated the ones I did not know. Scared them to death. Yes, they follow rules.

I walked across the street to speak to Barry and his wife Gwen. The kids were making a new fire pit, in front of our cranberry tree. That tree holds memories of its own. My kids when they were very, very small would climb it. It is not a very good climbing tree. Yes, Barry remembered the previous years of "fire pits". The "fire pits" of those days always ended "bitter". There was always someone there wanting to control and not letting folks just "be". Anyway, I came back home and found my rake broken. Do not know why Daniel thought he could dig a hole with a rake! I explained to him how to dig the hole. They took the rocks from the corner of my yard, where I had a dead tree removed, and wrapped around the hole. Yes, it was a mighty fine firepit!

Nick, who works at blockbuster, and also this is his first year in attending Nashville School of the Arts, as is Daniel's first year also, Nick ordered pizza and paid for it. I said, "Nick, why did you do that?" He replied, "that's just who I am". I take Nick to school in the mornings, as his parents, when necessary bring Beth home after school.

Last night, as we sat and laughed and told stories around that campfire, and Michael, who presented himself to me at first as very cautious, shy, (he attends a different school than the rest) spent the majority of the time video taping everyone else. Before the night was over, everyone was laughing, and literally rolling around that campfire. I made up some of the most ridiculous stories, not knowing where in the world they were coming from, yet, as all of these teenagers are now named different "colors", and recalling Daniel as saying, "I want to be orange, can I be orange?" To just sit and watch and listen to these marvelous teenage brains and putting ideas into their heads and seeing what comes out is the most beautiful, heartfelt thing! Imaginations dancing around the fire!!!

After the boys left, I went to bed. Oops, I closed the door and it locks automatically. Shortly, thereafter, the girls found themselves locked out of the house. I was awakened by my daughter banging on my bedroom window. So, yes, they came in and made pallets on the floor. Waking up this morning to my daughter knocking on my bedroom door, as I tell her "I am awake". She comes in and tells me how much fun everyone had last night...recalling every individual detail. She tells me about Taylor, another friend, who arrived after I had gone to bed. She said when Taylor saw all my paintings of naked women, Taylor said, "nipples, nipples, I see nipples everywhere!" Then, Taylor, also a student at NSA, began imitating different women, as my daughter "imitated" what Taylor had done. It was hilarious. She then says, "we've gotta get more firewood mom".

I then went outside to find the fire still smoldering. The girls assured me that they had hosed down the firepit before locking themselves in our home at 10:30 last night. (Rules.) They then showed me the video they had made of themselves before going to sleep. I laughed until I cried. And yes, just checking on that firepit, the fire is still smoldering, safely in the hole, in the middle of the rocks. Yet, the smoke was a little overwhelming here in our neighborhood, so I poured water on the burning wood, and put the fire out. The smoke is not so bothersome at night when everyone else seems to be tucked away in their houses. But I did throw some white sage in there before putting it out.

Great Nephews

The first little guy is Will. He is sitting beside his mother, my brother's daughter, Wendy. The little guy with the plug in his mouth is Collier. He is my nephew's son, born this year on Father's Day.

This picture reminded me of the "darkness" I went through. It was a different type of darkness than what I know now. My brother died on his son's 23rd birthday, two days before Christmas. I recall at the funeral, the preacher saying, "God picks only special ones at this time of year", and my thinking, "well that totally sucks, this is suppose to feel special"? No, I was angry. My brother was only 46 years old. I was pissed. Yet, it was totally out of my control, all I could control was myself. It took awhile to get through it, but I did, just as the rest of my family has.

And it's like, now, "Look Mike! Look at your beautiful grandchildren, what you've left behind, yet seeing his children and his grandchildren brings Mike so much closer."

Back to it being a different type of darkness - my own children - their father is alive, yet, they choose not to see him. Character. My brother was a very gentle, loving father. The pain I suffered when my brother died was not my choice. The pain I suffered during my marriage, why? Because I did not think I had a choice. Character - finding the courage to walk through the pain. Oh yes, it is definitely worth it.

Sweet Music

Still amazes me how reading words
so lovely in nature
makes me connect
to the source of it all

Still amazes me how reading words
enhances embraces
my heart so dearly
to see so clearly
merely
with
the reading of words
melting throughout my being
warmth surrounding me
resting
in this place of magic
touching every inch of me
with words
flowing
tasting
damn!

Comments

"Aggressive Love" 2007 Acrylic On Canvas 16" X 20"

My friend Jamie and I were talking this morning, plundering why in the world my ex's wife continues to spend all her time reading/studying me and then making rude comments. It seems to me that Jamie came up with the answer. She said, "she's just mad because you're free, you got away from him, and now she's stuck with him". Made sense. Yet, it is still sad that a person who is that miserable can't do anything about it. I know because I use to be that person. Maybe she'll figure it out.

Cutting the Cord

This was a message sent to me by Dan after endless stories of how abusive my marriage was:

2/19/2005 "If not forgive, at least cut the cord of pain and let the person go. They really are a stranger to you anyway. Sometimes you have to go thru every little detail to make the cut, but its worth it. No one has power over you...not even to stir a hair...unless you give it to them. If you're giving it to them, find out why...then reconsider.

Oh by the way...that some girls like bad boys is a bit of propaganda started by the bad boys. The smaller you're made to feel, the more control that they have over you. And really those guys are sort of like a pack of wolves (well not really, because wolves are actually wonderful and disciplined creatures..so start over..) what they really are is immature, stuck in permanent juvenile delinquincy...they run around wounding women so that any of them can prey on them. They tell the story of how bad women are over and over to anyone who will listen. That's because they actually fear women and the power that they have in life..they are stuck...they hate women but they don't have the courage to live without them. If all women are so bad why do they want to have sex with them eh? You'd think they'd rather be gay if women were so nasty...but actually they can't even relate to each other, they just mirror the macho poses back and forth. Its pathetic and no healthy being really needs to be around that."

My Mom

I talked with my mom this morning, as I always do on Saturdays. She has been a little discombobulated lately. My oldest son is going through a divorce. My mom is a constant 'worrier". Anyway, the tears we shared in our throats this morning was a little overwhelming. In the past, we've always had a hard time, sharing our true feelings. Anyway, my dad died in 1991. Then my brother passed on in 1995. Right after that, she met "Clyde". He is a very Christian gentleman who filled the void in my mom's life after all her grief. His wife had passed away previously. In fact, back when I worked for the State of NC, was when I first met his wife. She was the director of our medical records department. Anyway, last year, Clyde became ill. He had many surgeries and is now living in a nursing home. Ever since then, my mom has been visiting him at the nursing home. She even washes his sheets to insure they are clean. She sprays his room with lysol. She also does the same for the man who is in the room with him. She will pick him up and drive him to his home. She also cleans his house, getting all the cobwebs out since the house sits in silence. My mom told me this morning that his sister-in-law told her she should marry Clyde and move into his home and take care of him. My mom said "no". She said to me, "Holly, I am going to be 80 years old next week. I can't marry him now." I asked my mom, "what do you want?" Meaning, I wanted her to put aside what everyone else was telling her, and look deep within to what she really wanted. She said to me, "I do not want to spend the rest of my life taking care of him. I have my own life. My own home. My own family. I am totally content in seeing him at the nursing home. Clyde also likes it there. He is the type of man who does not enjoy someone else taking care of him." I said to my mom, "then there you have it. Do what YOU want, not what someone else tells you, you should do." She replied, "I am."

What struck me as really funny was, she said to me, "Holly, you are the strong one. You are the survivor." I wonder where I get that from?

I spoke with my grandaughter on the phone last night. I tried to get ahold of her father, but, he is not talking to me, it seems. Our last conversation, about 2 weeks ago, ending with him hanging up on me. He thinks I am taking his wife's side. It was good to talk to Megan. She answered her mother's phone. She is 13 years old. I asked her how she was doing and she replied "good". I said, "for real?" and she said, "yes, it is good not having to live in the fighting anymore".

Adults, angry adults in the midst of fighting, often forget little ears. My son, lived his childhood years and adult years, in the midst of fighting. As I have been trying to explain to him, show him during the past few years - since my divorce, that just because that's all he's ever seen doesn't make it right. He has the choice to change. Anger only hurts. I understand his anger today. He has lost his wife, his home - his entire life has changed. Hopefully, he will see that I am not taking sides - there are no sides to be taken. There is only love in a mother's heart. She may not always show it or express it in the way you desire, but, it's there.

My mom, tends to be taking her grandson's "side", for she is only hearing "his side of the story". This reminded me of my ex-in-laws, and ex-relatives. Yet, I said to my mom, once again, "you're only hearing what you're being told". Then she proceeds to talk about the weather.

Later on in the day, I spent time with my friend, Donna. Her husband, Mike, died not so long ago. Mike was my son's baseball coach, gosh, let's see, Anthony is now 21, and he began playing t-ball going on to baseball many, many years ago, so, anyway, I've known them for a very long time. Donna is having a difficult time. It is alot about her "inner guilt" of believing that she could have done something differently to prevent his death. At least, she is talking it out, and not suffering alone. Just as my friend, Janis. Her husband also died about a week before Mike's death. Donna's husband died from a disease. Janis' husband committed suicide in front of her. Both of these husbands were in their 40's. I spent time with Janis also last night. The difference being that Janis is more angry, more hurt that her husband left her. Now, she is in a "search" for "why", "why did this happen", yet, allowing it all to come to surface. Her answers are coming to her. Both of these women are totally different, yet, as all of us, share the pain of losing someone you love, and a willingness to endure the pain, in order to search for the inner peace which comes from within. Yes, they are very strong women, and always have been, but, in the face of death, have forgotten how strong they really are.

After spending time with the two of them, separately, I decided I was going to go out and listen to music. I showered. I put on make-up, I put on clothes, then, I threw off the clothes, and climbed into bed. Do not recall having any dreams. When I awakened this morning, naked as a jay bird, with that "ahh", and seeing my clothes on the floor, I was happy I went to bed instead of going out to listen to music. The harmony I slept in was much more refreshing.

Heartbeat

There is a place which exists

with only the frequency

of a kiss

that flavors the politeness

which removes the tightness

with all boundaries removed

step in to smooth

feel the blowing of the air

surrounding all that is fair

a love engulfing

piracy suggesting

with hopes digesting

no man could be so cruel

inside each and everythere is a heart

the beat tuned

to express no fumes

reach in deep

grab to massage smoothly

deliquescing

all which is fray

tis the time to mend

we were once friends

flowers floating on the stream

beauty comes and it goes

memory cherished

where insights grow

it grew and it grew

bigger than you

welcome

come in

my space is not so thin

the vacuum contains

all that remains

area divided not

my sanctuary lives

the presence is known

wake up to wonder of love

I wrote this poem a few years back when I was going through really difficult times. My nature is not to fight, yet, it appeared I fought for the majority of my life, as many folks have, the nature of fighting to survive. Putting down the weapons is a marvelous state. Anyway, one night as I laid in my bed, with absolutely no thoughts whatsoever, I heard my own heart beating. It was as though I was listening to the universe beating in harmony. The sound of that music still brings such pleasure.

Love?

To read someone's words
bringing such luxuries of life
the luxury of relating
the luxury of understanding
may take time
make take more than one reading
but to read and to know
or is it just something inside
that moves you
almost as if the same air you breathe
all you know is
damn
it just feels good
that warm fuzzy feeling
wrapping arms around you
and then peeling it off
to reveal nakedness of the flesh
running freely through the fields
whatever it is
I just like it
and the best thing about it is
it doesn't stop with me
it flows through me
to engulf all around me
a sense of safety
of falling in
of just being

Back Off

Sipping the wine is made very fine

it opens doors of inhibition

experience this is it real or amiss

different state to be

Projects dwelling as all prevailing

brunt of that subject was I

abused yet used let's see the difference in this bite

I have proof

kept cell calls myself and I

but the end result

sigh upon sigh

he was just a guy

and I will not cry this time

he's yours

I don't want him

so back off

he's yours

not mine

Drama oh drama don't be the queen

everyone has a story so it seems

what makes you so serious so sad so expert

so much to hide to resist life

Shut my mouth I can be cruel just like you

don't point your finger unless it is felt in the chest

in the mirror of time

at least though I am female I do have the balls

to come out and tell what is real in these jaws

to be sophisticated I am not can be ruthless

but I will be damned to pretend not to feel all that I do

don't study me no longer

your project am I not

only one but only one only one so waste it not

The wine the wine is very fine

but even without it the senses rhyme

I am me

miss drama queen

but so much more deeper than you

yet tired of digging to find the emerald

shining who hides behind bloggers comments and all

I ate my tail and this is what's left

enough experience to divvy the rest

I do not understand the games you persist upon playing

certainly it is not your best

As I recall the bells of toil shedding it all

I can laugh for it makes no sense at all

but, I am a mother, yes

oh and the rewards do benefit from all

where is the father now I can laugh

for out of the three

none of them last

once a cheater always a cheater

so take that

and stick it up your ass

Yes yes the wine is good for it makes no sense at all

yet all the sense in the world so many in this serious mode

so bitch excuse the fro

what tore in the heart

has MENDED so

and you're the only one

who doesn't know

soooooo

we all have our stories but I guess the wine was invented

to settle the vintage

make sense out of something that makes no sense that grows

and the meaning of this like the meaning of life

I do not know other than to do what needs to be done

and make no sense of it all

just do it with a joyful note

or how about comments the newest invention yet not at all

YOU are rambling and have no where to go

it has already been sung

and this heart is so lucky even as the ugliness shows

for I have so much love surrounding me

which only makes me glow

so if I am out of tune or out of whack or out of whatever

celebrate my lack

sometimes leading has to slack

get off my back

The Dance

9:38 PM 4/21/2006

She holds up her hand
with her dress in it with ease
she twirls and she dances
all above knees.

Her head is chin up
she glides and she smiles
the breeze is good now
it is making her wild.

Her containment is within
but it flows throughout
making waves in the crowds
who won't move their mouths.

The body is awe
it speaks its own language
moves with the times
chimbers and bangers.

Nothing is underneath
free as a bird
everything in a dream
scorns unheard.

Take her down
pick her up
let her go
bring her back
cherish her so.

Pieces

Try to put life into pieces

is that how it is lived

the past came back to me in pieces

just like a puzzle

I guess if you put me back together

piece by piece then I will be whole

I was to say again

but no the piece is to write it in a poem

is too impersonal

or perhaps personal

because the memories are great

they come from the divine

they are shining in thy eyes

what I have discovered words

won't recover

the place where I am

is no place at all

not divided by walls

no tale to tell

only tears of joy or tears of pain

hard to restrain

but there is a place which doesn't exist

is it here or amiss

lay me down

spread out throughout the ground

that is where you will find me

feed me breathe me trample me desire me

that is where to sear is to bear

one and all

Passion Rise

It is seeded inside of me

between the depths of time

blood running cold

melted down south

oh my

delight filling that hole

like a child it would scream to run away

but I have to say

I want it to stay for

it is human

with feet touching ground and flowers all around

yet lives through night and day

the body arising flexing as a rubber band

staying straight on either land

trombones gently waxing

complilation of tapping fingers

heat made alive scultpures bronzing

come to life

in this imagination bubbles floating by

galaxies inside of me prosper abide

cool cool springs flowing beauty's dream

again molded laid back flat

all in soil

push the button there is no automatic go

ah ha it is my life to choose where to go

hear the sounds of the universe dancing in my ear

touch touch touch

the body is real

is it love

what else could make it grow

to be alive such a wondrous art

it is you and I

the world is silent

yet love surrounds me

enfluid beauty

beauty etching slowly across the canvas

painting my sight of harmony

Never Before In My Life

Never before in my life
Have I
My body is aching
In that animal sense
Of a love desiring
Harmonica reunion
The source knows
To climb into those arms
Atop the being
Almost a love
That is too beautiful
To be true
Yet
It exists
With no aches at all
Only magic
Oh my God
Opens the heart
Rejoicing to beauty
Where is the word
The one I search for
To express
It does not exist
No word can describe
All that is inside
Again my friend
You know

Elegance

The beauty of spoken words
Flows throughout my being
As a young lamb nuzzles
Her mother's breasts
Dewy tongues
Peripatetic
In unknown terrain
Sweet juices
Exploits the touch
To glide every inch
Flesh upon flesh
Perturbing delicate
Memoirs
Atlas
The beauty of spoken words
Surrender
Saturated
Sprawled once again
Meshing into earth
Whiteness surreal

Surrounding Darkness

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Surrounding Darkness
Lights flickering
Protecting Not flashing
Stepping …. Then…
I opened my eyes
The games are over
This is our life Enjoy it the best
You know how
Remove all anger Turn it to love
It is a good place to be
Fall into the world
Rest and make history
Beauty is found within your heart
Make a choice Throw away the darts
Spread the joy I live in my body
Be the light The flicker
Stepping into time
Why do I write?
Except to talk to myself
The balance lies there
Nothing to dread
Body full of love
Likeness to a dove
Peace within
Brings peace surround …Sound
Is where I am found
Floating amongst
The livings of being
Richness fulfilled
Again I say
Let love have its way
It is good and true
For both me and you …But…Remove the masks
Layer upon layer
No longer do I fake it
To make you happy
I am me Tried and true
No more living With your rules
Happiness comes from me
Not from you If you want me
Find you…Then…Time will tell
Because…Deep within
I am always your friend
But do not mold me
To fit your shoes
Barefoot I prefer Bending my rules
Take me or leave me
This is who I am My life is good
No longer misunderstood
The ear hears
The heart speaks
Flow and let it go

Walking

Monday, June 30, 2008

I was walking along
and decided it was time
for me to sing my own song
I was walking along
when the birds started singing along
I was walking alone
and decided it was time for me to sing my own song
I was walking alone
when the birds started singing in harmony
I was walking alone
and decided to live in harmony
I was walking alone
and heard the melody
I was walking along
and decided it was time to be me

Baby in a Tree

My friend Wendy, just sent me this email. I wanted to share! It is breathtaking! Wendy & Matt are two amazing people. She said you have to have an OPEN MIND in order to see the baby and to stare at the picture until you can see the baby and once you see the baby, you won't see anything else but the baby!

Freedom of Speech

This is a recent painting. A few months anyway. I painted her for the form of "freedom". She is painted on cardboard and called "prancing". Painted on cardboard for I could not afford the luxury of canvas, yet the "freedom of speech " was to be painted upon....


It seems there is no "freedom of speech." Even in this new "blog world". The bloger, itself, is in control. Who do I allow to express? If it does not agree with what we agree, then, no, we will not accept. Sigh. It totally saddens me that oneself cannot express itself/himself/herself. There is always someone controlling. In my youthful world, one was always open to express. Now, in this "new world", there tends to be someone, something controlling. When will there ever be a day when one can truly be themselves?

8/17/08: I was re-reading this post and one of the things which stood out was: "in my youthful world, one was always open to express". Thinking about that, recalling that, yes, I could and would express, but, sometimes the "bite" I received after expressing was not very pleasant. There was "someone" shaping my thoughts/expressions. I wanted to leave comments open here, but, realizing that the comments being made, were in actuality, only hurting the commenter, I deleted. If a person does not yet "know themselves", shaping will take place.

The Forest

I realize this painting can cause so much diversity. It was one of my very first watercolors. Yet, to me, it brought release. Realizing sexuality is a major part of life, and it took me to so many amazing levels. Love. Joy. It brought me to a place of asking myself, "why do I not have the convenience of feeling good?" Why do I always have to feel that I need to suffer? Why is there that feeling that feeling good is bad? Yes, many roads this led me. History. Trapped in a place where once it is revealed, oh my, brings such joy!

7:38 AM 4/7/2006
The Forest
I walked out of the forest

the light was shining bright

I looked around and saw my place

that's where I saw my face
God is everywhere

in this world and without

keep your feet in the dirt

but then look around
Let go

You'll be shown the way

There's only way

but our say
Be still listen

then follow your heart

only you know where to start
It's beautiful absolutely breath taking

it's yours

grab hold and then

you'll be free

Ego-Personality

"Mother, Sinner, Saint" 18X by 24" Acrylic on Canvas
Yes, I do believe this is one of my favorite paintings. Being a single mom, and with a history that one might have problems with, I am all that. I am a mother, sinner, saint. I know I am not perfect, but I know I am doing the best I can. Afterall, there is no father figure, never has been. What exactly is perfect?

It seems the "killing of the ego" is not a friendly place to be. For, if one kills their ego, their personality, then they are not who they are. I've kinda gotten attached to my "ego", my personality. It appears to me that you kill the "ego" which tells you it is not "alright" to be who you are. I can only be me. I tried walking that path where "acceptance" to everything is the way to go. Yet, it only made me miserable. For I am me. I was not designed to be someone else. I much prefer to walk in my own shoes, wherever that may lead me.

After reading this post again, and answering my question of "what is perfect?", it came to me that we are all perfect, exactly the way we are. Thankfully, I saved and printed the many emails from Dan when I was "morphing" through all these questions. In one of my favorites, this is what he wrote, "When one discovers the divinity inherent in being, its a wonder why people so often look (in vain) for it elsewhere. This is part of the problem with thinking that animals, for instance, are dumb or inferior to humans...exactly how (and more importantly, WHY) would an all-knowing deity create something stupid? (hint: animals, plants and minerals are parts of the divine body too...they do different things than what humans do...and hold on Bessy, what they do is not inferior, just different. We're all in this together.) How can stupidity be intelligently designed? (this applies to body parts too, once you accept that our bodies are temporal (determined by time) ie temporary".

Mowing

It is a very hot and humid day. My grass has not been mowed since before our trip to the gulf. As I was mowing my back yard, that thought came to me. Beginning on Sunday, my youngest son came for dinner. I made lamb with spinach/potato salad. It was delicious. As my son gave me hugs and we were saying goodbyes, he said, "don't say goodbye, you're coming back"! He then asked how my car was running. I told him it was kinda wobbly when driving but it was ok. He then told me to make sure that if we're going down the interstate and my car wobbles really bad, that means my tire has blown out, and get to the side immediately. He said that happened to him. Well, sure enough, Monday, as I was coming home from work, I just got onto interstate, going 70 mph, at the junction where 3 interstates emerge, and suddenly my car began wobbling. I thought, "nah, it's all in my head because of what my son had said the night before". But then, a sound, it sounded like an airplane coming over and I looked to see where that plane might be. I was losing control of my car and began trying to cross over 4 lanes of traffic. The car behind me turned on his emergency lights. I was able to get over to the side. My back right tire was slashed all to pieces. Not having a car service, and not knowing how to change a tire, I called my friend, Frank. I was totally discombobulated. He was just leaving his last patient's home, Frank is an occupational therapist whom I work with, and also a very dear friend, he said to me, "it's ok, hon, I'll be right there".

When he arrived, it was totally scary. He crawled underneath my SUV, trying to figure out how to get my spare off. Standing there, helplessly, fearing for his safety, with the oncoming 5:00 traffic rushing by, making me realize how very important it is to slow down when cars are on the side of the interstate, or workers are working, and try to move to the far lane. Anyway, he could not get the spare off. I was missing a part. We then drove to the tire place and there had to call a tow truck. They said it would be an hour and a half. I left my key at the tire store and Frank and I drove back to the office. After an hour and a half, still no word. We called the tire store and they said the tow truck had not arrived. We called the tow service and they said the driver was enroute. We then went to Frank's house. Frank is also a musician. His home is absolutely lovely, as is his wife! They were so kind and patient with my circumstances. Anyway, finally, at 8:30, the tire store called and Frank drove me back to get my car. It was 9:00 p.m. before I made it home. I was exhausted but extremely thankful that this happened before the girls and I left for our trip to the gulf on Wednesday.

When I got to work on Tuesday, I learned about hurricane Dolly on the gulf of Mexico. I began wondering, perhaps we are not suppose to take this trip. Everyone at work told me, "no, do not cancel, it'll be ok". The social worker said to me, "that's only 2 signs, if you get 1 more, then, no you should not go". That evening, I picked up my daughter, her friend Katherine, and her boyfriend and brought them home with me. Daniel, my daughter's boyfriend, was to mow my grass. I had paid him two days before. Today, I do not recall what actually happened when we got home, but the mixture of all the different energies exploded. I remember everyone being upset and arguing and my saying, "this is it, 3rd sign, we will not go". Yet, that remark itself turned things around. I smudged my home, and all of us with sage. Suddenly, the mere thought of being on the gulf of mexico is what exploded and life was absolutely beautiful again! The drive the next morning was fun! As we were driving through Alabama, the storms hit. It began raining so hard that I had to stop at a rest stop to clean my windshield for it was so dirty, I could not see out of it and it kept fogging up. After doing that, and we began driving again, the skies began lighting up, my daughter said, "mom, why are we driving towards the hurricane?". I told her, "it'll be ok". We actually passed where lightning had struck a field on a farm. The fire was shooting straight up. Yet, we passed through the storm and made it to the other side and found the most amazing white sand and calming sea.

Anyway, these are some pictures I took today after mowing my grass. Before our trip to the gulf, I had made a new flower bed and planted pink, red, and orange dragon lilies. When we got back home, that red one was the only one left standing.

I was going to take a picture of my pear tree. As I was taking the picture of the hole where my pool use to be,* a small, beautiful bird flew from the wildflowers up to my pear tree. His belly was the most amazing shade of yellow with shiny black on top. I started to take a picture of my pear tree and recalled a comment made by Dan, "no one can experience the entire cosmo in one body in one day". He had said that to me a few years ago when I was actually "morphing" through time. That was my cue to "slow down". I was going to mow my front yard, yet I still have so much to do today - wash clothes, clean my house, take my daughter to the library for school starts next week and she has to get a book for her summer reading. Her and Katherine read one of the books on the way to gulf. So, I did not take the picture of the pear tree; it appears that the pears are not ripe for picking yet, and I did not mow the front yard. Instead, I wrote this, which has made me slow down and breathe and enjoy life moment by moment.

My last blog "Toad" took me to where I recalled seeing that little toad in a coffee cup. Hidden in front of delicious recipes. One recipe on chicken and dumplings had a painting of larks & lemons. It was a lark I saw this day. First time ever in my own yard.