I have written you a million different times
In as many different ways
On a hundred different days
You never change
The ink does
and other shades too
Let me color your world
with my words
Let me in
where no one else has been
Let me show you what I see
to the core
of all that is dark
and seek the light
So last November, sitting at a light on Desert Inn and Cimarron I spoke the words “I am ready for change, whatever you give me I am ready for”. By February of this year I wasn’t ready but my words came to light. I believe more than ever that what we speak into the Universe will manifest in our lives. I have been more careful lately and so much more specific. So things changed drastically and quickly. It took some time to adjust to this new life that I asked for. And I wonder why I wasn’t more specific now…. and I know it’s because I wasn’t supposed to be…Every thing is falling into place. Better roads have been placing themselves before me. I observe and pay attention now. What is meant to be is coming together.
Fast forward to last Friday morning, it’s after 1 am and I driving home (damn Desert Inn), I did it again. I was more specific this time. Details….I spoke the fine details of what desire into life. I believe there is a higher power that listens when we speak, regardless of our belief system there are greater forces preparing for what is to come next for us.
And then everything changed yesterday…a simple, subtle change. Checking myself at 5:27 pm “remember what you asked for?”. I do. So now it’s placed before me and it will change a lot, if I allow it. I asked for it, I was specific. It has been constant in my thoughts since then. I take a breath and exhale…..these words come to mind
Permanence in a temporary world
I am not sure where this is really meant to go…I just know I come here to think and heal. Tonight its to contemplate what is placed before me. To feel my way through this, to explore my emotions. I have never been this specific…its time, I know, for a change. Its time to take care of me. To stop coming in last with certain people in my life.
What do you speak into the Universe? Are you specific?
I think I am being shown that what I want is possible, its my choice. It’s up to me. The Universe is conspiring to help me achieve it.
Peace for your Sunday evening ❤
For the phone to ring
for a smile
for the dream
and the motion
to heal our wounds
and tug at our scars
to embrace the moment
and savor the years
to see the age in your hair
and lines around my eyes
from the way you make me smile
I wait for your hand
for your touch
for every part of you
I crave so much
I will wait
for the man I know you are
and the woman I am
This morning as I searched for words to feed my soul, I came across the sweet perfection of Joan Miro and her thoughts on two of my favorite things. Paint and words.
Her words tasted so sweet, filled the void and sparked a creative place I sought to satisfy. Twice in the last few days I have been diving deeply into my writing and lost what I was working on. I think that my words weren’t supposed to make it here…that I am capable of more, of something greater.
I have often entertained the idea of writing a piece based on a painting or painter I know, or even a friend who is a photographer and has captured something that sits with my soul. Something I can’t let go of. A story I need to tell or a poem that is seeking to escape the corridors of my mind.
Paint and poetry….black and white, full of brilliant color and life. I resonate with people I know who paint and who write. Art…it lights and fuels the creative fire. I think people light people up that way. Joan’s words sent me spinning…not able to think, see or do anything for some time after letting them settle in and absorbing the full-scale of what they created within my written mind.
I felt the love story of the Painter and the Poet, their love affair
The two people who create from damaged places and never cross paths
The two who find each other after many lifetimes of waiting and light the world on fire with their art and words
The mother and daughter….the times she cherishes that are no longer here. She holds those moments in her heart.
Friends who bond over rose tea and write about life and love
The way the paint feels on my skin and looks on my clothes when I am done
The words that tell a story. If I close my eyes I can remember the moment I picked up a brush and how it felt.
I can tell you about the poem I wrote for him and how it will never mean as much to him as it does to me. The poem I wrote for two mothers, for a best friend, for a life that is no longer here, for a love that I crave….I can tell you the moments that led me to my words. How people lifted me up, destroyed me and taught me the most valuable lessons I have ever learned.
Can you paint me a picture? It will give life to my words.
Paint your life….Write your life…but more importantly love your life. Create your life. Whatever your modality is dive so deeply into it that when you surface you are satisfied in a way that fills you up so completely.
So there it is….my words
Peace for this Sunday in your life…and for every day ❤
She made a list once
Of the things that needed to be taken care of
When she wasn’t here any more
Who to call
and lean on
All the information needed
in the finality of life
And then she learned
about another lady who made a list
Much like hers
And she realized that it was
not the time for her list
So she tucked it away
Hoping and knowing
and sometimes it’s not good
to make lists like hers
Life is ever-changing. Sometimes it is slow and steady, and sometimes it shakes the foundation of everything you know. Change…is constant and consistent even if we are unaware. Every. Single. Day.
I have learned a lot in life and not always in an easy manner. I have learned about forgiveness. Perhaps one of my greatest lessons is forgiveness. I have learned that when you pick someone up in their darkest hours it doesn’t mean that they will be there when you are merely treading water. Also that when you listen without judgement it wont necessarily be returned when you need it….not from where you thought it would.
Change…colors of leaves…thats what I think of first. Life is changing daily. New choices and decisions. New direction and roads.
The black pants and the white blouse? Hair up or down? Do people judge you because of your tattoos? Weird, random thoughts. Sometimes things just don’t make sense, and sometimes I know they aren’t supposed to.
A new day and a new page. Do you change the paper? Do you change the ink? Solid or lined? You just change.
And the reality of it is ….you go with the flow and learn to begin again. You learn to stop treading and start swimming again. To remember who you are and realize that you are a valuable human being.
And the reality is…you learn to forgive yourself for being hard on you.
Peace for your Saturday night and always.
Failure will never overtake me if my determination to succeed is strong enough
~ Og Mandino~
I have been wanting to write about people who inspire me for some time. Often times I do without using names, although they know who they are.
Many times when we are alone with our thoughts, it is detrimental to our well-being and lately this has been the case for me. So I have chosen to share an article about someone who inspires me when I feel I have no will.
I have always admired various people in life for their artistic abilities and I believe that we are all artists in our own way. I can also appreciate the various forms of creative outlets that people seek. Many of us have suffered some sort of trauma in our lives, physical, emotional, sexual, grief, loss or some sort of tragedy in general. Some of the most creative people I know have also been some of the most traumatized.
In 2015 I opened my account on Instagram….I began following, liking, observing and connecting with various people. Two of my friends have these eyes that present me with the ability to see life through their (camera) lenses and find beauty where many don’t…and so my love for the different layers of life intensified.
Graffiti. Street Art. Writers. Writers….words. Beautiful and colorful. Dark and deep. Bold, hard edges, soft, rounded corners…Words. People, faces, places and names of present and past. Writers…street art…or as I like think of them poets of paint..”poets of paint”.
The first time I can really remember words saving me I was 12. I started writing poetry or expressive essays ( as I learned from my friend Alyse to call them) and have written to heal parts of my life since. I think I was attracted to street art because of the lettering and the expression behind it. I knew it came from someone who had been through something…we all have a common thread somewhere in life.
I have followed many different artists over the last couple of years and this is how I came to admire one man, Benny Diar. When I think about will and determination…he, hands down, comes to mind. I cannot tell his story, you will have to read it for yourself, but I am sure you will find his thirst for life and art contagious. He has overcome obstacles and odds to do things many of us take for granted on a daily basis and he continues to be an inspiration to many.
So…will and determination…will make you survive and thrive. It “will” make you live when you think you can’t and it will drive to you to be the best you can under different circumstances that life presents you.
I hope that you find something inspirational or useful from here this evening….I have read and heard it many, many time…..”There is always, always something to be grateful for”.
Peace for your Friday and in your life
*used with permission of Benny Diar
And someone once asked her what she wanted…
She wanted to sit in a coffee shop on a rainy afternoon and work on the book that she had written a million times in her mind. She wanted to feed her soul with the things she felt most connected to. Words.
Her friends painted and wrote, weaved and crafted treasures for little shops and big. They took pictures of objects and people who fed their souls. They healed their wounds by creating beautiful pieces and places in this life. They left their mark. Yes, she wanted to leave a mark in this life that had meaning.
What did she want? Peace, calm…steady, easy rhythm to life. Not a roller coaster and of ifs and maybes. She wanted certainty. She wanted rain, coffee shops and bookstores. Tea and rosemary, lavender and honey…random simplicities. Big coffee mugs and good people. She wants to listen and be heard, to lift people up and kneel down with…laugh, cry and live life with.
She learned about crows and eagles alone on a desolate road at 12:40 am on a Wednesday morning. She knew about darkness and diving into the depths of it and resurfacing with some clarity. She knew about sleeping and rising alone, and feeling connected and disconnected from life and people.
But it wasnt about what she knew, it was about what she wanted.
Love and happiness……pens and paper….paint and canvas.
Today she wanted life more than yesterday.
Settled in for the night…
Long day, long few days. My mind drifts to you, and I miss you. Your words, wisdom and synchronistic poems that had more meaning for our lives than others could understand. Pulling cards and writing our hearts out, laughter and tears and vulnerability….but wait..safety and comfort too. And I miss you ❤
I have hardly written at all…too much to say and overwhelmed with thoughts. I applied for jobs and caught up on emails and so here I am, settled in with my girl and our animals. There was popcorn and coconut oil in the pantry and truffle salt in the cabinet. So I made popcorn like you make and we are here and you are there and I miss writing with you more than you know. An almost finished letter sits on my desk…so maybe tomorrow….
Here is to writing and women….and circles
New beginnings and scary endings
And true friendships and rain
Peace in your life and for your Thursday