come, whoever you are

“Come, come, whoever you are.

Wanderer, worshipper, lover of leaving.

It doesn’t matter.

Ours is not a caravan of despair.

Come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times.

Come, yet again, come, come.”  

– Rumi

image: mixed media monotype print

december . 4 . 2018

consciousness

“Death consists, indeed, in a repeated process of unrobing, or unsheathing. The immortal part of (wo)man shakes off from itself, one after the other, its outer casings, and – as the snake from its skin, the butterfly from its chrysalis – emerges from one after another, passing into a higher state of consciousness.”

– Annie Besant

image: Spreading Feathers, acrylic, oil pastel, charcoal, graphite, paper, wax on wood board.

november . 5 . 2018

possibility

“October had tremendous possibility.

The summer’s oppressive heat was a distant memory,

and the golden leaves promised a world full of beautiful adventures.

They made me believe in miracles.”

― Sarah Guillory, Reclaimed

image: mixed media monotype print

october . 2 . 2018

 

 

september light

To the Light of September

When you are already here
you appear to be only
a name that tells of you
whether you are present or not

and for now it seems as though
you are still summer
still the high familiar
endless summer
yet with a glint
of bronze in the chill mornings
and the late yellow petals
of the mullein fluttering
on the stalks that lean
over their broken
shadows across the cracked ground

but they all know
that you have come
the seed heads of the sage
the whispering birds
with nowhere to hide you
to keep you for later

you
who fly with them

you who are neither
before nor after
you who arrive
with blue plums
that have fallen through the night

perfect in the dew

– W. S. Merwin

image: ‘origin’, mixed media mono print on paper

september . 4 . 2018

you are

“You are the sky. Everything else – it’s just the weather.”

– Pema Chodron

image: summer sky near Bend, Oregon

august . 6 . 2018

finding where

 

Answer July—

Where is the Bee—
Where is the Blush—
Where is the Hay?

Ah, said July—
Where is the Seed—

Where is the Bud—
Where is the May—

Answer Thee—Me—

– Emily Dickinson

image: ‘beyond saving’, painting with mixed media on wood panel

july . 8 . 2018

dance

“Let us dance in the sun, wearing wild flowers in our hair.”

– Susan Polis Schutz

image: ‘new day rising’, watercolor, wax crayon, graphite, tissue paper, on paper

june . 5 . 2018