Monday Morning Wake-Up Call (Long Walk. Breathe Deep. Taste the Air.)

patty-maher-the-quiet-storm-photography

Take a long walk.
Breathe deep.
Taste the air.
Keep your eyes open.
Try not to think.
Wet your lips with your tongue.
Tilt your head slightly into the wind.
Separate the sound of a single stone
cracking under your boot.
Feel the difference in weight
between a milkweed seed and a blackbird’s feather.
Stray from the road on your way home
until you are waist high in wet corn.
Approach your house from the back.
Whistle for the dog with the white mark
like a crescent moon on his chest.
Look your children in the eyes when they speak to you,
and raise your eyebrows, and smile when they smile.
Notice your son’s mouth curves up on one side,
and his fingers are long and squared-off at the tips like his father’s.
Search your daughter’s right heel for the star-shaped scar
where they tapped her for blood when she was two days new.
Drop everything when your husband gets that soft, glazed look
and presses his palm into the small of your back.
Think to yourself how like the spreading roots
of a silver maple
are his hands.

Marcella Remund, How to Practice Poetry


Notes: Poem – The New Poetry. Photography: Patty Maher (The Quiet Storm)

Faith…is tensile, and cool, and has no need of words

boyana-petkova-art

In the winter I am writing about, there was much darkness. Darkness of nature, darkness of event, darkness of the spirit. The sprawling darkness of not knowing. We speak of the light of reason. I would speak here of the darkness of the world, and the light of _______. But I don’t know what to call it. Maybe hope. Maybe faith, but not a shaped faith— only, say, a gesture, or a continuum of gestures. But probably it is closer to hope, that is more active, and far messier than faith must be. Faith, as I imagine it, is tensile, and cool, and has no need of words. Hope, I know, is a fighter and a screamer.

~ Mary Oliver, from “Winter Hours” in Upstream: Selected Essays

 


Watercolor: Boyana Petkova (Bulgaria)

It, did. It had me.

Christine-Comyn

“From the beginning I had a sense of destiny, as though my life was assigned to me by fate and had to be fulfilled. This gave me an inner security, and though I could never prove it to myself, it proved itself to me. did not have this certainty, it had me.”

C. G. Jung, from Memories, Dreams, Reflections

 


Notes:

With the sigh of a man who has seen all and been redeemed

raspberries
I eat these
wild red raspberries
still warm from the sun
and smelling faintly of jewelweed
in memory of my father

tucking the napkin
under his chin and bending
over an ironstone bowl
of the bright drupelets
awash in cream

my father
with the sigh of a man
who has seen all and been redeemed
said time after time
as he lifted his spoon

men kill for this.

~ Maxine Kumin, Appetite


Maxine Kumin (June 6, 1925 – February 6, 2014) was an American poet and author. Born Maxine Winokur in Philadelphia, the daughter of Jewish parents, she attended a Catholic kindergarten and primary school. She received her B.A. in 1946 and her M.A. in 1948 from Radcliffe College. From 1976 until her death in February 2014, she and her husband lived on a farm in Warner, New Hampshire, where they bred Arabian and quarter horses. Kumin’s many awards include the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry (1973) for Up Country: Poems of New England.


Credits: Watercolor painting by Peter Krobath (“Awe Raspberries II”, watercolor, 8″x7″) via The Sensual Starfish. Poem: Poem-Locker. Bio: Wiki.

The tip of a black court shoe peeking through a half-open door

Rene-Gruau

What do you see above?
Don’t ask me how long I stared at this illustration by René Gruau trying to figure it out.
Consolation was offered when no one else in the household could figure it out either.
And then, I did a bit of scouting…

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Thomas Saliot

thomas saliot

Thomas Saliot, 45, is a French painter who lives “between Marrakech and Paris.”  He has been painting for the last 20 years.  Thomas allowed me to share a few of his stunning works in this post.  Find Thomas’ web site here.  See more of Thomas’ paintings below.

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Left wing or right wing

chinese-bird-paintings-4cx3z1se

I asked an old man:
“Which is more important?
To love or to be loved?”
The old man replied:
“Which is more important to a bird?
The left wing or the right wing?”

~ Haughty Spirit


Credits: Image. Quote: Couleurs

Ayse Juaneda

Sleeping-Birds-soft-pastel-on-paper-art-by-ayse-juaneda

venice-water color-on-paper-ayse-juaneda


Ayse Juaneda found my blog yesterday (how Ayse?) and I followed her back after browsing her wonderful posts.  What amazing talent…

Ayse is from France.  She’s an artist, teacher and designer.  Her first illustration is a soft pastel on paper – it is titled “Sleeping Birds.”  The second is watercolor on paper and is titled “Venice.”

Her work reminds me of a quote by Vincent van Gogh:

“…and then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?”

You can find Ayse’s blog at aysejuaneda.wordpress.com.  Be sure to check it out.


Coffee and Milk


Speed Drawing in watercolor.  I’m in awe. Love the music too.

Find more “grunge” art by Lora Zombie on Facebook here.

Find more music by Youth Lagoon at iTunes here.


Piet Mondrian

piet mondrian


Piet Mondrian (1872-1944) was a Dutch Painter.  Titles for works above: Amaryllis (1910), Compositie (1916), Composition No. 9 (Blue Façade) (1913-14). 

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