The Heart of Spirit

On the back roads between my house and town, there are several stands of pine that look purple if you catch them just right in the late afternoon. They took my breath away and prompted this poem. I keep going back to them to try and capture the majestic light, but so far have not been able to get it quite right. This poem is actually the only poem of mine that has been "published" anywhere, and only in the Crones' Counsel Newsletter, but still I see that as a win. And it might be my favorite poem I've written so far.

The Heart of Spirit

 

If you wish to experience the heart of spirit

Look no farther than the pine trees at sunset

Standing like sentinels in rows just off the road

Inviting you to admire their deep purple trunks

 

If you wish to luxuriate in nature’s purest heart

Sit beneath the oak in springtime at noon

And listen to her breathe in sync with your own breath

In a silent meditation of healing for all that is

 

If you wish to feel the pulse of the planet’s soul

Lie down upon the soft moss on a warm afternoon

And allow the loamy scent to ebb and flow within and without 

Like the breath of distant ancestors who lie below 

 

The heart of spirit is all this and more 

It also lives in the misty pink innocence of an ocean’s new day

In the exuberance of vermillion leaves against a cloudless sky in spring 

And in the shimmering golden sunset water before last light

 

So lie in a hammock on a breezy day and

hum with the chorus of the whispering oaks

Or wander through forests and meadows or beside a still creek

With little thought but to know the purity and perfection of the day

And merely allow the heart of spirit to beat within your own

Favorite Tree

The other day I saw a presentation by Susan Tyler Hitchcock who has written several books including Gather Ye Wild Things and Into the Forest - the Secret Language of Trees. To prompt discussion, she suggested that we talk about our favorite tree, and thinking about the favorite trees in my life prompted this poem. I am thinking that this poem might be the basis for a book - not exactly a children's book, but a picture book painted in watercolor or soft muted acrylic washes, published in a format looking like a children's book. The illustrations for this poem may become my winter project. The photo here shows the heart-shaped crown of the scarlet oak that stands tall in my front yard - my current favorite tree, It has not yet reached this stage of color, but should in the next week or two. 

Favorite Tree

 

Do you like me have a favorite tree

or more than one like two or three

one to climb and one for shade

and one for peaceful memories made

 

When I was young my tree was too

just right to climb for me and you

and strong enough to sway us free

and help us split the air with glee

 

In teenage years I loved an oak

a boy too … we softly spoke

our words of love under the canopy

and leaves fell like tears when he would leave

 

Sycamore rocked my babies three

And watched them grow quite lovingly

Its bough held strong and did not break

while happy memories it helped us make

 

When love came late to heart and soul

a cottonwood all gnarled and bold

was like the symbol of our love

connecting earth to sky above

 

And on this land that now I share

with oaks and hickories, beech and pear

the scarlet oak’s my favorite one

her heart shaped crown my heart has won

 

I’ve loved them all but have to know

Do you love trees and help them grow

Do you like me have a favorite tree

or more than one like two or three

Fall

 

Fall

Fall slides by us in a quick progression

from the last rasp of the cicada

to the colors whose beauty lulls us into

hoping the coming winter might be tender and mild

The songs of the cicadas and katydids

are replaced by the whispering sliss, sliss, sliss

of leaves underfoot like a lullaby that prepares us

for the silent stillness of winter’s chill slumber

 

I watch from my window as the turning of leaves

moves as surely as the hands on a clock from

withering tulip tree and flaming dogwood to

golden hickory and finally to scarlet oak’s crescendo

 

There’s a sadness in these golden days

for those of us who feel the changing light

as a mantle that won’t be lifted until long after

the last withering beech leaf has finally let go

 

But underfoot in the leaf litter that remains

the promise of renewal lies wrapped in cocoons

nesting in a bed of rich decay that will

ensure that earth’s promise of spring is fulfilled

 

10-21-22

Mandala Designs

Many people know that I am in love with bugs, and well, with nature in general. Most of my photography is based on nature. I also love kaleidoscopes. A few years ago, I began playing around with deconstructing my photos and reconstructing them into mandalas. I've printed a few on nice cotton rag paper, and I have even sold one of them. Mostly they sit in a pile waiting for me to get the energy to matte them. I have used some online tools to make coasters with these designs, and they're really cool as coasters, but I don't know how to do it cheaply enough to make it worth doing as a commercial product to sell. I'm collecting images of Fall leaves right now to add to this collection. 

If you want to see all of the mandala designs, they are posted on my Flickr site (Mandala Designs - Photo Manipulations | Flickr). 

Recent Paintings

My art degree is in Drawing and Painting, primarily because the drawing and painting faculty at the school I attended were better in those areas, and because of my belief that drawing is the keystone discipline of visual expression. It's hard to understand form without being able to express it as a simple drawn line. This recent series of paintings is based on my love of the hibiscus flower - along with a few other flowers thrown in. I had a goal in mind of creating an entire environment around hibiscus imagery since I think it's one of the most sensuous flowers in the floral kingdom. I had also hoped to put together a dozen or so of the flower paintings and see if I could show them somewhere, because I like to think of them as one larger unit, but that's the hard part of art to me. Most of these paintings measure 36"x36". The tulip painting is 48"x48."

Clay Sculpture - My First Love

A couple of people have recently asked to see some of my artwork. So, I thought I'd write a blog about each of the different mediums I have enjoyed. Of all the artistic mediums, clay was my first love and the medium I will probably always love best. In what seems like a lifetime ago, I made a series of large scale (about 27" by 18") raku and primitive-fired clay shellflower forms which I sold from a few galleries in Pennsylvania and Arizona. I saw these forms as expressions of the divine and sensual feminine, influenced by Anne Morrow Lindbergh's book Gifts from the Sea and by Georgia O'Keefe.  When I began working at Intel, I pretty much had no time for art other than photography, so I kind of quit making these forms. I thought when I retired, I would return to clay work, but I haven't been able to make that happen in my current environment. All of these forms were started on a potter's wheel and finished with coil construction. Many have been sold or gifted to friends, but I still have some of my favorites. 

In addition to the shellflower forms, I also made a number of fairly large clay sculptures of bird forms, after reading that in some indigenous cultures, birds symbolize the female spirit. Each of those bird forms represents a feminine entity with a different attitude - all have pregnant bellies, with wings that symbolize breast forms. These were also begun on a potter's wheel and completed using coil construction. 

This grouping shows both bird forms and shellflower forms on display stands.

Midwives of the New Millennium

I'm trying something new this year. I had a couple of blogs years ago, but I'm going to start using this new blog for sharing the fruits of my creativity. Today, I'm posting a poem I wrote in the past two weeks. I've been thinking a lot about how I envision this planet evolving and how the future of the planet will be connected to feminine energy. That's been making me think about women - mostly older women (the crones among us) - as the midwives who will birth a new, more peaceful age. So that's the origin of this poem. 

I actually started thinking about this idea about a decade ago when I started a painting titled the same as this poem. I hated the painting so I gessoed over it, but recently I started playing with an online AI (Artificial Intelligence) tool called Mid Journey. You basically input words and it creates images based on those words, pulling from imagery already existing online. I think it might be a good tool for creating sketches to paint from. At the bottom of this poem, check out a couple of the images that resulted from my play with that tool that may become sketches for new paintings.

Midwives of the New Millennium

When they try to control our wombs

they are hoping to forestall the coming

of the age of peace by making

the issue of those wombs in their own warlike image

 

But the midwives of the new millennium

will not birth the coming age

from our wombs or in any way from

the loins of the patriarchal past

 

The midwives of the new millennium

Hear the songs of the spinning cosmos

that portend the shift that Gaia

longs to see spring from the void into form

 

They remember the days when

the goddess sang through the siren’s call

and was silenced … feared by the cunning Odysseus

giving rise to the alpha kings and eons of war

 

The midwives of the new millennium have held

Those siren songs…  bestowed by the cosmos

within their beating hearts awaiting

the cosmic shift that will welcome their song

 

They will birth the new millennium

from hearts beating in harmony with nature

pulsing with the peace that attends the coming age as

they dance the cosmic waltz and sing a sirens song