Soul Level

At the "soul" level

there is an urge

there is a need

to go beyond

the materialist

yet

not knowing

that the "materialist" even exists

I wish I had canvas

so I could paint these feelings

yet I don't

not tonight anyway

the love is so

there are no words

it just exists

so much beauty

so much magic

it just exists

I could say those magical words "I love you"

yet

they are only words spoken in a time of divine

divine comes and goes

like the waves of the sea

how does one hold on to

the ocean

trusting in the waves

of what might be

jump aboard

magical ride

if it could happen to me

it most certaintly can

happen to you

bliss in all its containment

life is meant to be

beautiful

magical

a wave to be

jump aboard

leave the past behind

this magical journey

of just to be

Rabbit

After all the tornado sirens warning people of possible tornadoes, I walked outside after the thunderstorm passed, and there was this rabbit nibbling away as if not a care in the world! She/he lives in my yard. When I was a child, living in North Carolina, foothills of the mountains, we always had tornadoes. You could "feel" it. You just "knew" to take protection. When I worked a facility for the mentally retarded, we had a volleyball team. After work, we would play out by the gym/pool area at the facility. We did not have any warning of the tornado coming. I served the ball, and it immediately came back to me. We saw across the field the tornado. We ran for cover. The tornado wiped out a country grocery store. Luckily, no one was hurt.

Love

These flowers have the sweetest scent! Painting is one of my favorites "barefoot & naked".

Tulip

This morning when I spoke with my mom, she asked me "what's been going on"? So I told her. I told her. She responded with, "what? that stuff don't really happen". Guess what mom, yes, it does. She then changed the subject, "did you fix your refrigerator?". My refrigerator stopped delivering the ice. I told her no. She said she told Craig, my oldest son, that it stopped delivering ice. He said it was a brand new refrigerator and it shouldn't. He told my mom to tell me to take out the ice tray and see what was blocking the ice from delivering. I did that this morning while talking to my mom. It was a Busch Light beer. My son's!!! Life certainly is entertaining!!!

Brighter Side

Moving to the brighter side of life
I love
I smile
I love
there is a love which lives inside of me
there is a love which lives outside of me
it is there
ready and willing
to bring me joy
there is a knowing which exists
a knowing of a ever lasting love
I just know
this silly little poem
probably makes no sense
yet it makes
all the sense in the world to me
I know

Cattails

Last week I went to Crocket's Park with my friend, Scherie, and her dog Molly. Yeah, Holly, Molly, & I. Anyway, I saw this patch of cattails. Shortly after, we came upon a deer. Scherie said anytime she saw a deer, it was a sign of "luck".

We spent this weekend together...going out to eat and to her daughter's house, and then to a sports bar. It totally became bizarre. Past lovers came into play, former lovers being jealous, like I said, it was totally bizarre. Yet, everything worked out exactly the way it was meant to be!

Mulch

Pandora's Box

Today, suddenly, as I was relaxing on my sofa, that "pandora" stood out. The box beside it, is a gift from my ex-sister-in-law given to me many years ago. The box contains the past. Obituaries; my childrens' awards, drawings, pictures; my brother's sunglasses; my father's wallet; all access cards; and hospital wrist bands from when my children were born. Memorabilia. Recalling the tale of "pandora's box", you don't know what's in it, until you open it up. Yet, in this case, I know exactly what's in it. A past carrying memories of much love.

Painting the Light

18" x 24" Acrylic on Canvas

Shy That Way

Percy Priest Lake

Letting go once again...

It seems as I go through life, "letting go" is a constant. The only difference today is, it doesn't hurt. When I realized there is really nothing to hold on to. Loving everything as it comes to me. Being the source of that love. My heart being showered with love and guidance. Cleaning my house right now, before heading out for the park.

Yesterday, Mildred came by to pet Betty at the fence. As she walked through my yard, she remarked about all my "mole mounds". She asked if I knew how to get rid of the moles. A few years ago, when I had dirt delivered to cover the hole made by the pool I had removed, the man who delivered the dirt told me that moles were a good sign. It meant my ground was healthy.

Right after Mildred left, I was looking at my flower bed when suddenly the ground started moving. I watched it as it made it's way through a little ways, and then, right when I thought it was going to reveal it's head, a worm come out. Guess the mole was chasing the worm. Hehe, the worm got away! As I was watching the mole making its way underground, I recalled how my ex would do the same thing, except, he was waiting for the mole to make its appearance so he could konk it on its head with a shovel and kill it. No, I wasn't about to murder the mole.

Back in 2006, I had a man called Thomas, remove a tree that had died in the corner of my front yard. Today, I went to dig a hole where that was removed. Surprizingly, the stump was crumbled and I was easily able to dig another large hole. I planted a Norfolk Island Pine.

Radnor Lake Park

Today my daughter Beth, her boyfriend Daniel, and Daniel's mother and myself spent the day hiking at Radnor Lake Park. We hiked up to the top of the mountain, back down, and then around the whole lake. 4 1/2 miles!!! My absolute favorite was the "owl" at the end of the hike. Debra spotted it after another hiker told us he had seen 2 owls. We could only spot 1.

Yes, that is my 15 year old driving!!! Her and Daniel both have their learner's permits. Daniel drove his mother in her vehicle, and Beth drove me in mine. Luckily, she didn't drive up on the sidewalk again!! She actually did very well, considering the road was very curvy and narrow.

Momma's Poems

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

Morals

Funny, I am not so sure I know what "morals" are. In a way, it appears to be something which is taught, not known, only taught. You are taught good manners, you are taught to be kind, to do the right thing. Perhaps that is "morals". What happens when those "morals" are rejected. What happens when you say to yourself, it makes no sense. Do "morals" fly out the door? This is coming from being "judged" yet again, for a post I posted, then immediately deleted. Why? Morals.

A couple of nights ago, I posted a pic of myself wearing a "teddy". "Teddy" - not my word, the word someone else used. The morning after that post, and I saw it, I immediately deleted it. Why? To protect another. Does that mean I have no "morals"? Still not sure about this "morals" thing. Anyway, the reason I deleted presented itself today.

Patsy, oh yes, my dear friend, Patsy, called me and said, "uh, have you got a minute to talk, it's personal". I said, "yea", "ok". She said, "what happened to the pic?". Oh my gosh, I thought, because Bill, another friend said he did not see it, I was able to make it disappear before an audience gathered. It was a pic taken by a very, very good friend, who happens to be very young, and very married. When I saw that I had actually posted it, that was ok, posing in a "teddy" (Patsy's words) did not really bother me. What bothered me was that I identified the photographer. He is very married, and very much in love with his wife. We have been friends for about a year now. I met him before he was married. We just seemed to hit it off. He did not judge me. Only allowed me to be me. Our thinking was, ok, he is a professional photographer, he had never taken those kinds of pictures with anyone, so he told me. Actually, I found out that wasn't true. Anyway, our thinking was, ok, we'll do this and we'll go up another level. Something "neither" of us have ever done, yes, a lie. So, why did we do it????

We just did. My friend Patsy, said, "you can't tell me that you were wearing "that" and "nothing happened". Well, actually, something did happen. He was aroused, as any human man would be. I think in all honesty, he wanted to be able to do it and not be "aroused". He couldn't. Therefore, he told me "I don't want to take this kind of photos of women again".

I am a very passionate being. The "pic" of me, in my "teddy", was like, "wow, I am 53 years old and still am very passionate". Passion is full of life, full of love. But I knew I would be judged. I asked Patsy what she thought when she first saw the pic. She replied, "uh, wow, she's a porno star now"! I only laughed, for I knew that wasn't it. So much more. Why do I enjoy giving people something to think about? Passion? Stop with the judgements. Controversy. Yes, I have always enjoyed controversy. Look at yourself. Does that passion live inside of me? Definitely, yes! But that's not who I am. Who am I? A being seeking life, love, enjoyment, and happiness - probably like the majority of the world. I have discovered the world is joy. Celebrate! Even at the lonliest times - love what you love!

The other thing - I fell in love with him a long time ago. KNOWING he loved another. Yet, he also KNEW I loved him and let the relationship continue. Life flows. I trust the universe...totally.

Back to the "morals" thing. I don't think it is taught. I kinda "automatically" know how to treat another human being. One is not mean, not hateful, but a source of love. That is the heart. That is where "joy" arrives from. Manners. If, I have been "disrespectful" of another's being, then please forgive me. I know who I am. I am not perfect, but I do thrive not to hurt another. Not intentionally. Yet, I am "perfect" just as I am. With all my flaws.

Ok, there it is. The "experience" of the "non-experience". Me, in my "teddy".

Yet, it is not "me" at all. Only me having a human experience. Ok, she called me a "chicken". I "dared" to what she called me. I am not a chicken. I love chickens. They provide my body with nutrition. This is only a "pic". It is not me. Yet, a very big portion of me. I am made from the nutrients of the earth. All the elements. Am I plucking? Yes, feathers are falling. I am just a speck of this gigantic universe. Happily so.

Moonlight

18" x 24" Acrylic on Canvas

Someone once said to me, "I reveal all I want to reveal through my art". I kinda know the feeling. Yet, for an artist to "get through", it is more like, "show yourself, reveal who you are". For artists can be hard to understand. When I painted this painting, it was after walking outside and seeing the moon behind the trees. So simple. Nothing magical, nothing mystical. It was only what I saw. Yet, the "magical", the "mystic", was right there. During, before, and after. Hard to explain. Yet, it exist. This evening my daughter said to me, "this is the tatoo" I want". It was "Mario". "The mushroom". she said, "my childhood memories were of playing the game "mario". "Fate without eyes sees". "trusting to let go"....

I had been trying recently to let my daughter see...you cannot control, whatever will be will be. My painting.. is just that, only a painting. Full of love. As love exists in places where you never knew.

Tricycles

When I was in my teenage years, struggling through marriages, divorces, life, etc., my dad began telling me stories of his life. Back then, my thought was, "you don't understand", "that was then", "this is now". Now, today, how I cherish those stories. As I went outside tonight, after talking with a friend who just lost an 18 year old cat pet, whom her first love gave her, her first love dying in a car crash, I connected to "those" stories. You can spend "forever" in memories of lost loves. Yet, me, myself, would rather cherish "those stories" for what they were "then". Today, the memories of the youth, my youth connected to my father's stories, blend so heavenly.

Seeing the moon hidden behind the trees, in a twilight, with the children in the neighborhood riding their tricyles brought so many memories to mind. Me, myself, with my best friend, Wanda. We've known each other since we could talk. She lived up the street from me, across the street. When the city decided to "pave" the road, I wanted to cross it, to get to my friend. I tried my tricycle, yet, it only got stuck in the newly paved road. Left the tricycle, and just walked. Ruined my shoes. My mom got mad. But, I remember, for whatever odd reason, her aunt Faye. She helped me make it across. She made biscuits. Not very well. My friend Wanda and I would use the biscuits to play badminton.

What is my point? Every story is just that, a story. Most of my stories portray a youth. A youth of long ago. Yet, today, those stories try to make me who I am, when applied in the correct way. The "tricycle" story, also reminds me of my own kids. Their 3 wheelers, learning to ride. In today's times, they are tainted. Tainted in a world of materialism. The best part of "my story", I get to pick and choose what I want to keep and what I want to discard of. How can you taste the honey without tasting the bees? Yea, I know, someone already wrote that song. Yet, this song, is mine. Living in harmony with all the elements. Yes, that is what made me. A love so divine.

The Color Purple

Thursday morning, I awakened at 4:00 a.m. Could not go back to sleep, so sat down here at my computer and wrote a poem for my latest painting, "She Is Beautiful". Around 5:00 a.m. I laid back down and slowly drifted off to sleep. Suddenly, I awoke at 9:30 a.m. Oh my gosh! I was suppose to be at work at 7:30 a.m. Woke up my daughter. Said, "hurry, we're late". They're calling me from work wondering where I am. One friend texted my "facebook" saying she was on her way over to my house. In the "rushness", high energy flew. Words spewed back and forth. By the time I made it to work, I was a wreck. Tears running down my cheeks. Hurtful words ingrained in my mind. I cried and I cried and I cried. The tears would not stop. I texted my friend Bill, "please make the tears stop". So many co-workers coming to me, "are you ok"? I tried making excuses for my tears. But, the thing of it was, I had no excuses. I just hurt. Throughout the entirety of the day, I was "wailing", yes, "wailing", not just crying, but "wailing". I could not hide it. It would not go away. For years and years and years, I hid my tears. I hid my pain. While going through my divorce, I hid in my office with the door closed. No longer. I hurt. The last time I recalled feeling this much pain was when my brother died, and before that, my father. Yet, I mourned secretly in my home, trying desperately to hide my pain. While I tried to "pinpoint" my pain, I could not. It had been so long since I cried. My greatest fear was of "crying" in the open. Hey, it didn't kill me. It only healed me. The next day, Friday, when I went to work, there was no humiliation, no sorrow, only thankfulness. So many, and yes, there were so many people who embraced my pain and held me to comfort me, and for that, YES, I am truly grateful. Thursday, I was classified as M.I.A., Friday, there was laughter, as Ted said, "hey Holly I see they found you, no more M.I.A.! His biggest grin made me laugh so hard!

It seems I go through the dark only to discover the light. Seems, it's always been that way! The color purple? Crown. Yet, my heart still shines, beating like everyone else's! As Gail came into my office Friday morning, she said, "it's a good thing that you felt comfortable enough to cry here at work, amongst your co-workers". They had suggested I go home that day, but I didn't want to. I didn't want to be alone. I read somewhere that "we're spiritual beings being human". Makes sense. Sometimes we forget who we are. There have been so many people which I know who have experienced so much pain, and have suppressed it. Perhaps it is best not to suppress and let be, be.

She's Beautiful

16" x 20" Acrylic on Canvas

To see beauty in everything
nothing inbetween
To see beauty shining
is a miraculous thing
a being so full of love
can only be love
she is beautiful
just the way she is

New Blooms

I thought for sure this flower was dead after the cold, frozen nights it experienced after blooming. I was amazed to find it this morning shining so brightly in the sunlight!

Genderless

Through my journey, I experienced a time where I did not feel female nor male. I felt complete. I felt whole. To experience that was a social issue. A friend, was unsure as to whom I desired. I felt that funny. Why would she care? Not a good place to be. Being judged. Making a "mark" upon me. I am a person. Truly alive. With and without feelings. To feel good seems to be an injustice in today's times. I am judged upon who makes me feel good??? How crazy is that?? Why would anyone care who/what/why turns me on? Suddenly, the cringe in the stomach. Why? Why does anyone else care what makes another feel good? Strange to me. The feel of a loving touch. The feel of being human...turns me on. Feeling the fleshness of a sensual touch. It just feels good. Why is that so hard for a human to swallow? Why is it so hard to resist human at its best? Were we brought up to say that "human touch" was bad? I don't know. Don't care. I only know what feels good to me. That is...human touch.