roots planted

If we don’t have any access to a deeper sense of self, it feels life-threatening when things are not working on the surface. When our identity falls apart, we will do anything to defend and fix it, because it’s all the self we know. With our roots planted in a more spacious self, our relationship to the ups and downs on the surface changes. We know the intrinsic impermanence of it all. We welcome the learning each experience provides us with. We can even feel grateful when things are really messed up on the surface.

~ Chameli Ardagh

image: collage from New Zealand series

february . 7 . 2019


If we want there to be peace in the world,

we have to be brave enough to soften what is rigid in our hearts,

to find the soft spot and stay with it.

We have to have that kind of courage and take that kind of responsibility.

That’s the true practice of peace.

– Pema Chodron

image: A clear day at the Oregon Coast.

january . 15 . 2019

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


“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


“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

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