prosperity

 

2009 Prosperity doll, in progress.

ring a bell

An angel comes ever so gently, nudging the air beside me. Are you ready, are you ready? And the only answer is Yes, I am ready to dance again, and sing my song. Ready to teach through my hands. To mark places up ahead, where it's safe to take your creative spirit right to the edge, and

JUMP

Bring freedom to those you meet. Do not tangle them. Don't let them tangle you. The smallest warmth is a moment of joy. Treasure this.

Angels rejoice when we notice them.

light

 

The truth of dreams and visions comes through like light peeking out from under a doorway. It is good to heed these things.

So it is that each day I must find more light, and become lighter myself.
Sometimes it's necessary to slough off the opinions of others, and see them as just that... opinions. I won't be lessened by these things. Little by little, I let go of my attachment to approval. Hard for anyone, I suppose... but hand in hand goes the attachment to disapproval, and I don't need anyone's stinkin' disapproval! I will not be lessened. Such is my lesson, :~).

I work on the creative a bit more every day. Adding pieces to a figurative sculpture, or starting one anew, making small decorative items or jewelry, reading, writing, rearranging my environment, taking mind pictures until I get my digital camera... of course I'll continue taking mind pictures even then.

Photography is among the most "present" of the visual arts. It requires that the vision be seen before it is created. Sometimes the photographer has time. The sun, quite appropriately, will often be the indicator of just how much time she has, or how much time she needs... before the shadows are just right, when she clicks the shutter.

It's necessary to look at everything with new eyes. The subtle changes in the sun everyday, and the spot where it sets, the clouds that join it... and then there are rain drenched streets at midnight... the trails of a truck's tail lights, when the truck is already gone, the reflection of lamplights and neon signs. The light is everything.

peace

The Winter Solsitce has passed, and I could feel the year turning. Light lingers a second longer in the sky, and the earth hardens.

I have decided to let my light linger a bit longer each day, too.

Thank you to all who come visit here. I am honored to share some time with you.

A Merry Christmas to all.

cats, heart, trees, and shadows

 

 

 

 

espresso should be shared

espresso at midnight
alone, it is an indulgent gift
the silk of sambuca kissing
my tongue
the edge of lemon
zesting me

worth the time

some crafting

Since I'm unable to post pics right now, I scanned some of the work I've been doing.

Top of the polymer clay covered Altoid tin (done with translucent chrysanthamum cane).




The bottom of the tin, but you can only see it's feet... And some hearts made from the cane scraps.




A few of the switchplates I've been covering.




Also, I wanted to give my old Shy Troll a place in my blog, so here he is, with his story:

Shy Troll was born on the longest day, in the Land of Faraway,

During the Year of the 5th Turning.

He has traveled widely through the darkest waterways of the world.

Today, Shy Troll resides beneath Black Bridge, beside

The currents of The Sarasvati River.

Gazing beyond the night,

Shy Troll rests against the rocks, until he continues on his walk.





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12" tall. He is sculpted from the finest polymer clays. The body armature is constructed of wire, wood, and polyester cotton batting. A small gourd was used for his head armature. The eyes are hand painted polymer clay.

He wears a buffalo hide cape, and has buffalo hair, which was applied by hand. His clothes are beige chamois and brown cowhide leather.

change in the weather

It has been a strange couple of days... a feeling in the air; the density rising and falling, freezing and thawing. The sky says snow, but not just yet... a cluster of rain storms, even thunderstorms expected throughout the day tomorrow.

Yesterday was the 17th anniversary of my father's death. Anniversary is a silly word for a death day. 28 years since John Lennon's death on the same day. A day that has been remembered for a long time.

It's a melancholy time.

I eat pastina, and contemplate my life.

I think about times of my life. The good moments stand out like gems; hard like diamonds that can sustain their shape and clarity throughout the ages. Dark times sink into the earth, and are recomposed into something less ominous.

In my life I have had two great loves, separated by time and distances of thousands of miles and many years. Estranged now, from both of them, I reflect upon what the Brujo said to me....
Que hicieron con sus manos es deshacerse de sus pies ... What you put together with your hands you take apart with your feet. It was about me leaving... gathering things and people into my life, and eventually leaving... sometimes emotionally, and oftimes physically. Sometimes, I have just stood still, and pushed.

But, you see, I wasn't always like that. I'm not like that today. The day after tomorrow is a whole 'nother story. ;-)

************************
Today I made translucent chrysanthemum canes, and covered a tin with them. It looks nice, just needs sanding, buffing, and a glaze.

I came across several items I want to use for my another art doll. An old turtle shell, a small moth shaped card, from my friend, Two Crows, when we were still connected, crystals, for sure...which will probably replace arms/legs These things are precious to me, but sometimes another life calls. Perhaps they will become part of an art doll that someone else will treasure for its parts, and as a whole. I need some representation of fire, because I believe it is an Elements doll, overall.

This doll must stand on her own.. that is a thread I'd like to work with. It is figurative, of course, but it is quite literal, too... I want to construct if so it stands without need of support.

roadside gems

I like to collect gems on the side of the road, and off the river's edge. Beach glass, and turtle bone... Pieces of stone, and grasses. Memories from the mountains, tree beard from a forest of pines

Here in the city, I have the sky, being six stories up, and I have the tops of trees, beyond the rooftops. The river is there, just beyond the trees; like a highway of water, the ships come from docks in Manhattan, and piers in Brooklyn. Rusty and reddish barges, and the Queens of the ocean, so tall I can see their stacks moving by, lit up like a celebration, heading towards the nearby international waters. They drift under the bridge's highest point, glittering away on the curve of the earth.

brothers and sisters

I was in a grocery store with my sister one day. Two fairly young kids, probably brothers, were minding the counter... maybe 10 and 14. Me and sis are talking and laughing, and being our exchangable selves, when we hear the question we hear, without fail, every time we are out together... Sisters?
And without missing a beat, we both say "No, we're brothers." (which we've never said before). The young one looked troubled, so we assured him Yes, sisters! He studied our faces.... "who's bigger?" he asked. How cute I thought... not older, but bigger, just like a kid thinks. :-) He looked shocked to hear that my sister was the bigger one, and six years older. He stared at my hair, as if he didn't understand. I said "Grey hair doesn't always mean you're older." And it seemed as if the kid took it all in, and learned something that day. He also got a little briefing on the art of hair dying, as my sister noted her gray roots and said "See... we're the same."

It was a darling encounter. "Who's bigger?"


******

Today I finished covering (with clay) the rest of the switch plates... so I have a dozen done. They came out pretty nice. Will try to get some pics of them before putting them in the boutique.

calypso & reconnections

(sunday night)

I begin to dress the bed spring with square slices of a scrap clay cane, and suddenly it starts dancing Calypso. The canes don't do it justice, though, but I like the form. I may remove these canes and start anew with newer, brighter, perhaps textured, clay. I can see it swirling with ruffles of gold/bronze/copper. Or maybe translucent clays colored with fiesta inks! Hmmm, different ideas rolling around my brain now. If I jump on the bed, maybe I can rattle off another spring!

Speaking of broken bed springs...
An old lover found me on the internet. I considered an email or two, now and then, but of course I am getting regular "instant messages" from him now. I think persistance is part of the male genetic make-up. In this particular case, I can live without it!

The rain, too, is persistant today.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

(monday/tonight)

There must be something in the air. Tonight I get a surprise call from a dear old internet friend that I met nearly twelve years ago. A young man, who is in many ways my little spirit brother. A dreamer and a seeker, he reminds me of my truest self. A welcome reconnection.

I have started to redress the bed spring with new clay enhanced with texture, and pearl-ex finishes in various shades of gold and bronze and copper.