Friday, July 3, 2015

Favorite

   This summer is unseasonably hot. Today, as I checked the temperature I thought how this is three weeks in a row with over 80 degree weather. With that perspective in mind I thought I would like to recall my favorite parts of the day.


    The morning is the absolute best. I get up around 5:00am and hit the gym at 6:00am. I do yoga and then ride a recumbent bike. I find legs up the wall to be divine. As the wall is mirrors, I see the balls line up above me creating a red parade of spheres.


   Watering time is nurturing. I greet my gerber daisies and tomato plants and give their parched leaves some hydration. The smell of warm earth wafts over the the plants and I feel grateful.


   The afternoon allows for some reading. I close the shades to prevent the heat from encroaching and lay prone on the couch with my favorite book. This week it is "A Fall of Marigolds" by Susan Meissner. 


    The evening invites some walks to see the bluest of skies. A sight unusual in the Northwest. Soon enough the clouds will swirl in and leave that salty air close to the ground. But, I digress, those are favorites of other seasons. For now I am content to enjoy mornings and evenings outside and midday in  a darkened house.

  
I write on Fridays with a large group who inspire me. Only five minutes and without much thought to perfection. I write, prompted by one word that sends my thoughts to the keyboard and hopefully make sense.

Friday, June 26, 2015

Dream

   I dream of painting what is in my very soul. The colors I choose match and magnify my feelings. The shapes personify ease or the opposite, constriction. Flora Bowley quotes her art professor as saying to his class on the first day, "Well we might as well get on with it. You all have 100 bad paintings inside of you." 

    Perhaps I've made 50 in the last 18 months. That makes me really excited. Think of what is coming in the future. I love many of my paintings so far and how much better will they get?  
   Above; "Through A Glass Darkly" is very sweet hanging on my wall. I smile when I see the color peeking through from early layers. 
   Below; "Stay Close To The Tree" is a homage to Lehi's tree. A modern girl presses into the trunk. She has wings,  representing power to move forward. The heart of the tree shows the love emanating from the center.; the love of God.


     God's love allows me to press forward in faith. May I ever stay close and focused upon Him.

    
      I write on Fridays with a large group who inspire me. Only five minutes and without much thought to perfection. I write, prompted by one word that sends my thoughts to the keyboard and hopefully make sense.

Friday, June 19, 2015

Fear

  A tightening in the gut, faster heartbeat, and unfocused thinking are all symptoms of the emotion called fear. I know them well. My favorite fears are severe weather events, unexplained illnesses in myself or those I know, car failure, and unforeseen money shortfalls. I don't fear talking in front of strangers, needles, water, or failure. I suppose I'm normal.


    Yesterday, while preparing the song "Amazing Grace" with my granddaughter on the piano I read the words to her. She wanted to know what fear of God was. I explained that sometimes the word fear means respect. To fear God means to respect his opinion, his ways, his view of life and never take him for granted. I should develop a stronger fear of God. I certainly fear coming before him unclean. That would bring on the tightening in my gut, the faster heartbeat, and the unfocused thinking. This makes me think that feeling fear might be a healthy thing. Warning; the events coming up might not be so nice. Try repentance as the antidote.


I write on Fridays with a large group who inspire me. Only five minutes and without much thought to perfection. I write, prompted by one word that sends my thoughts to the keyboard and hopefully make sense.



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Friday, June 12, 2015

World

  Today's prompt is the word world. It feels overwhelming to consider the world and what that word means to me. My world, the world I see and interact with, is small. There is work and there is play. There are friends and there is family. Sometimes I feel like I am in my world, alive and vibrant, and sometimes I feel that I am a poor lonely traveler who has stopped in the wrong places and said the wrong things.


    There are tremors in my world right now. I'm uncomfortable in some well worn paths. I have an anger growing inside towards myself and change I need to make. My prayers are sticky. I want. I want without the effort. My Savior said that I was to be in the world but not of the world. Of what shall I be?  Of spirit, of truth, of joy? Reaching for it; that is what I'm doing. Reaching wide and long.
   

I write on Fridays with a large group who inspire me. Only five minutes and without much thought to perfection. I write, prompted by one word that sends my thoughts to the keyboard and hopefully make sense.

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Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Online Learning

  Following three online classes during 2015 is challenging. However the content from class to class is related. If I were to generalize the main idea of each class it would be the topic of  experiencing life fully.

 Monica Sabolla Gruppo has caused me to think about the home I inhabit. Looking around I see things and I see stuff.


    Things are lovely art, colorful dishes made by hands I really know, and cozy corners that welcome my meditative stillness. Stuff is not pictured here on this blog because I find stuff creeping up on my radar and I want to simplify my home by letting stuff go. With the things I care about I'd like to make added beauty. One example os sorting books by color. The effect is noticeable. 




    Monica has challenged me to keep a physical gratefulness diary. I found a sweet one in a recent Flow Magazine.


   One Little Word, a class aimed at choosing a word and making it visible in your life, is "in progress".
My word is available all around me and I see new found insights related to this word.


   Flora Bowley's Bloom True E-Course started June 1, 2015. It is an ambitious attempt at becoming even more persistent in painting and drawing. There is material everyday and the assignments are wonderful.


    I have four canvases under construction. That sounds a little bit weird. I will be adding more layers so what you see here may look very different later.


  The above is my warm color  canvas. A woman appeared there and she may be covered over at some point. I do like the freshness of the colors.


   The cool color canvas is beginning a keyboard, of sorts. I wonder if that will stay. Flora's process is not unlike KellyRae Robert's. Both classes force me to stay unattached which is difficult. These classes add zip to my life and give me a great deal to look forward to.

Friday, May 29, 2015

Blue

   Alex is a pianist. He has played the blues due to disappointment and frustration. Piano study gets hard and demanding, sometimes. When I play "the blues" everything seems hopeless and never-endingly difficult. No light at the end of the tunnel, no possibility of success.


  Here he is on a decidedly different day. How could he possibly get almost every pin in the webelos book. Every pin!  I wonder if this day was more emotionally saturated or the day he wouldn't play another note? My sneaking suspicion is that the blues feel deeper than the joy. I may be wrong. Is it in our mortal DNA to let the blues infiltrate our every cell? Can we let our joy fill us equally full?



      I would like to hold space for that desire. Today I felt that joy creeping up my spine and I wanted to bottle the feeling. Breathe deep! Breathe the blues away!


I write on Fridays with a large group who inspire me. Only five minutes and without much thought to perfection. I write, prompted by one word that sends my thoughts to the keyboard and hopefully make sense.

Friday, May 22, 2015

Rise

    Rise And Fall

Your frothy feet run onto the sand
licking up pebbles
and just a fast as you rise
you recede.

I love the sameness
I love the change


I hear the uncertainty in your coming
I hear the certainty in your retreat.


When I am filled with dread with what might be
I remember 
You rush in
but you always fall back.


I write on Fridays with a large group who inspire me. Only five minutes and without much thought to perfection. I write, prompted by one word that sends my thoughts to the keyboard and hopefully make sense.