Jennifer’s Flowers
detail of painting
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My sister sent me flowers for my birthday.
She knows me.
She knows that stargazer lilies send me.
She knows that I adore curly willow.
She knows alstromeria lilies are my thing.
Now, how many people on the planet have that all-important information
At the ready?
It soothes me that she knows these things.
We love each other deeply.
And we are very different.
She has a brilliance to her mind capacity and abilities.
Because we share the same blood line,
I actually recognize I have similar capacities in the mind department
Though I chose another path this time around.
Our parents were both intelligent people.
I really thought for years
That I was not.
In my sister’s shadow I crouched.
And yet… today I know different.
She shares the creative urge I acted on in my lifetime.
I see it in her style, her cooking, her parenting.
We both share good minds
And our access to the forest
Has been by following different paths.
Today,
Instead of feeling less intelligent
I feel smart in a different way
And cheer her successes
Wrapped in the colors
Of the life I chose for myself.
That separation I created
So long ago
Has taken alot of energy.
I am putting it down.
To Be Of The Earth
“CIRCLE”, 5′ x 24″, 2002, m/m
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There seem to be very few things we can count on
But the regularity of the seasons coming and going
And the pleasure
And angst
Of it all
Depending on one’s point of view
Can make
Or break
A life
Don’t cha’ think?
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TO BE OF THE EARTH IS TO KNOW:
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the restlessness of being a seed
the darkness of being planted
the struggle toward the light
the pain of growth into the light
the joy of bursting and bearing fruit
the love of being food for someone
the scattering of your seeds
the decay of the seasons
the mystery of death
and the miracle of birth.
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-John Soos
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Eye Gaze
My dog, Olivia has an uncanny
Ability to eye gaze with me.
There is never an undercurrent of aggression
Or challenge
Or desire to be elsewhere.
Her gaze is direct
And unwaveringly present.
Sometimes there is love
And other times gratitude
But mostly, she just seems to be trying to broadcast the pleasure of just being with me.
The power
Of these precious moments help me
Try to replicate the stillness
In my daily life with people.
I make attempts to soften my eyes
And try to stay SOFT and PRESENT
And GRATEFUL
If I am.
My own gaze has an intensity to it, I’ve been told.
I think it may have a bit of challenge in it
Stemming from self-worth stuff
I continue to address.
Olivia’s eyes have none of that.
She is just there
Looking..
And I count these seemingly small moments
As the highest form of gold
In my life.
Falling
monoprint, 1990, 30″ x 22″
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Joseph Campbell is a hero of mine.
I was watching THE HERO WITH A THOUSAND FACES
In which he says:
“Turn your fall into a voluntary act.”
Now, that, there caused me pause, I tell you..
I know he is speaking of ‘the fall’ in the metaphoric sense.
Sort of a: ‘participate in all the sorrows of the world gladly’, kind of thing.
The most valuable piece of wisdom I have gleaned from my entire life so far is this:
A slight (or major) shift in one’s perspective
Will make the difference between
Wearing a sign that spells: VICTIM
And walking in the world feeling bedecked with jewels and shimmery silken things
Or at the very least
Having the strength and courage to hold one’s head high.
It behooves one to choose what we want to fight
With great care.
Because it can happen all to suddenly
That ‘the fight’
Becomes a life.
And a hollow one at that.
Dear God,
Wrap me in luminous rose-colored silk
And tuck a ruby in my palm
So I can remember to remember what I know
When I surely will forget.
Human Services
monoprint, 22″ x 30″
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I visited the Human Services Department yesterday.
They service humans.
It is a strange place devoid of art or color
And I didn’t really see too many people either
On the endless hike to find the elevator
(to service this particular human).
It was sort of a comedy of sorts
As I was met in the lobby by a very nice woman
And she proceeded to lead me at a snail’s pace
(because that is MY pace)
Through endless halls and turns and dimly lit offices.
She was actually really great.
When we finally sat in her office
She listened intently as I read my list
Of questions concerning support which I might avail myself of.
I took away information about Supplemental Security Income
And Medicare/Medicaid
As well as the possibility of some financial help with a new computer.
She will be a good point person
If I need help in the future
Negotiating the governmental morass.
Somewhere along the line I made a MAJOR shift that desperately needed to be made;
That of moving from the idea of CHARITY
To one of SUPPORT.
It took me a coons’ age to do it
But I walked the halls, yesterday, unashamed.
I have turned it into a mission.
It is more fun.
And that quest is one way I am servicing MY FAVORITE HUMAN!
Shift
raku sculpture installation
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In the Santa Fe paper today I read that our BORDER’S bookstore will close due to bankruptcy.
Yeah.. Amazon is so great…
Until something like this happens.
A cornerstone of the community will be gone
And the effects will be felt far and wide.
Just the thought makes me feel lonely.
Not that I go there very often.
But I used to sit for hours with a stack of magazines from around the world
Turning page after page and letting the sights and smells and beauty and horror of far away places
Wash over me
And leave me changed.
Then I would go to my studio and make art.
This fairly regular past time was vital to my creative process.
I could be IN the world of fellow humans going about their business
But not really OF it.
This is really important for my inspiration
To have the ability to sit at a little table
And have the world leave it’s marks on me
Without going anywhere.
For me, the creative place is almost trance-like.
Everything but what is in front of me goes away.
If you think about it, the idea is kind of scary.
I live in a sort of veiled place
And the comfort of having a familiar scene happening around me
Like a student with his laptop at the table next to me
Or a mother negotiating a kid, a latte and a book
Is just the thing I need
To let myself be taken
By Creativity.
So, now that particular possibility will vanish.
And it is a loss.
Does the connective quality of FACEBOOK
Hold a candle to a good bookstore?
How far away from each other can we get?
And do we even care?
Is convenience and ‘lite connection’
Preferable to
The journey
And the elegance
Of a surreptitious eye-lock
With a stranger in the theology aisle?
What Is Healthy?
textile design, 1985,pigment on wool flannel
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Having recently emerged from the grip of ‘the grippe’
I’m sitting here thinking about what, exactly it is that has changed
That made me want to get out from under the covers this morning
With a spring in my step, even?
For a couple of weeks I had no extra energy to NOTICE
Much beyond symptoms, where’s the remote?, the dog is getting constipated from too few walks, I already asked that friend to do me a favor and can’t ask her again, how dirty can one’s hair actually get?
Today, I recognize myself at last.
Here is the woman who has it in her to:
1. feel grateful
2. enjoy eating and the feeling of hunger
3. look forward to seeing friends
4. take a shower and feel good about the reflection in the mirror
5. have her attention on others when she wants to instead of just on herself
6. feel excited about the songbirds return to the bird feeder
7. not even know where the kleenex box is located
8. clean things
9. feel eager to find out what happens today
10. go for a full three hours so far today without one single wish that something was different
I love health.
I love that I can make up my own definition for what is is to me.
I love that that definition can change..
Just because I say so.
How Do You Spell ‘YACHT’?
untitled,30″ x 30″, 2001,m/m
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When I was a little girl growing up in the suburbs of Detroit
I led a small band of adventurers.
We would search out the huge (to us)
Drainage pipes being installed below
The many new roads in process of being carved out
To handle the encroaching masses.
We’d light a candle and crawl into the cavernous black
On our hands and knees
Never knowing what monsters lay in wait.
It was absolutely thrilling.
And oddly soothing to me to be underground
Away from my family and making my life follow
The direction I was choosing.. me.. little Cath…
I was captain of my own ship down there
And I loved it.
The dirt, the power, the mystery, the dark, the smells, the secrets.
I came across this amazingly futuristic design of a 100′ yacht the other day.
I find it interesting from a design standpoint
But laughed out loud to myself
As it made me think of my past underground adventures
And my preference for what they offered me
Over any thing this super-yacht might have to give.
I was glad to feel the tug of the underground
And wowed by the boat in the water
But, the pleasure quotient of smell of good dirt
And the perfume of the sea
Are equal to me.
As I recall, traversing ground on the humble power of my own hands and knees
Opened me to worlds beyond what I knew.
I think it was pretty good practice for
My life these days;
Closer to the ground than I ever thought possible.
Bird
“FLY GIRL”, 206, 11″ x 11″ x 4″, gravel,bone,earth
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“Faith is a bird that feels dawn breaking and sings while it is still dark.”
– Rabindranath Tagore
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This month has been a long haul for me on the road to recovery from the flu but hare I AM!!
Once again returned to the Cathy I remember.
During my enforced and all to lengthy recline
I watched a LOT of “GREY’S ANATOMY.”
Season upon season, in fact.
I lived vicarious lives as I lay there with kleenex on one side
And my dog on the other.
I judged the characters and supported others; felt superior and bonded, both.
Cried and gasped and laughed and held my breath
As they all walked their walk through their own hall of mirrors
And I could just watch
And have opinions.
It was fun for awhile
In the privacy of my own home
To let my inner critic run rampant.
It was too easy and so ordinary.
After awhile, so very, very banal.
My laughter and sneers became hollow.
I was bored with the feeling of ‘separateness’, I think.
What is the thing, I wondered, that calls us to higher ground?
That lets us know when enough is enough?
Enough ‘lite- life.’
The nudge that gets us reconnected
With just the slightest reminder that there might be gold
On the other side of an apology, say..
Or forgiveness for past wrongs?
Illness has an undertow
And fairly often I forget entirely
About the beach
I lost sight of awhile back.
But some unseen force ALWAYS
Reaches for my hand and grabs me.
And turns me around toward land.
And I have FAITH that force
Is very real and not a wish or desire.
That very ‘knowingness’ is my gold.
And I am wealthy beyond any measure.
Some gorgeous images on the theme of FAITH:
The View
untitled, 30″ x 30″, m/m
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I am so very grateful for your responses to my query in yesterday’s post.
Working in a veritable vacuum as I feel I do at times
Is conducive to sensing the slightest brush of an angel’s wing
Across my cheek.
It can also make one a bit weird
And in need of a sound and true witness
To do the job of reflecting back
What we can not see for ourselves.
So..
I thank you.
It helps me move forward with confidence
That a contribution is happening;
Something beyond navel-gazing.
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HAIKU FOR TODAY
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A crimson red shirt
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Masterfully warms the chill,
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Hollow, bitter wind.
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