Elk!
detail of painting,m/m
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What, exactly, was eating like
When we, women
Did our version of the queen’s wave
At the entrance to the cave
As our scantily clad men
Turned their bows like a cheerleeder’s baton
And headed out to the veldt
For the hunt?
Ok…Ok… I doth go on in my fantasy world..
But, really:
I had a dinner that inspired such…
Vegetarians: BEWARE.
A friend and I shared an entree’ that truly sent me.
Tender, fall-apart tender Elk, poached pears, sweet potato mashed and three perfectly green sweet pea pods.
This was served on a triangular curve of simple,white dish ware
With the thinnest of wine glasses
Carrying a liquid: deep mohogany and leggy on the glass.
Ok- I AM a hedonist
And live in borderline deprivation most of the time.
So the girl needed a bit of sass in her life
And this dinner was IT!
There were miles and miles
Of distance
Between a plastic-wrapped-grocery store-bought piece of protein
And this slightly gamey
Delicacy which left me a bit less domesticated
In spirit
As we prevented ourselves (only just)
From licking the plate.
Daffodil Hill
detail of painting on textile
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When I was in High School
There was a place on the grounds I would go called DAFFODIL HILL.
I went there to reclaim myself
During days of mind-numbing
Classes
With too many girls (girl’s school..)
I smoked pot there,
Laid down alone
Or with a boyfriend
But mostly alone.
I stretched out
And closed my eyes
To let the fragrance
Of yellowness
Take me.
Hiding in the middle
Of this riot of
Harbingers
OF SPRING!!
I let dogs
And their owners pass me by.
I kept still and held my breath
So not to be discovered.
I let English class,
Math
And History
Survive without me
And the most movement I could manage
Was to cross my legs
At the ankle
And prop my head up
Away from the damp. dark ground.
I became yellow.
And hummed the tune
I thought the bendy stems
Might enjoy.
I was happy then..
And now am still..
Remembering the liquid sunlight
Pouring on me,
Holding my hidden self
There, in the new dirt
And innocent grass
Long ago,
On Daffodil Hill.
Hierarchy of Loss
“CHERRY TREE”, 1999, 30″ x 50″, m/m
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Yesterday, I gave a talk to a group of people
Who were negotiating the loss of their spouse.
I watched myself mired in nerves
The night before I was to speak.
I have not had the experience of a great love
Let alone the loss of one.
I worried that I would be able to make a bridge
Between our different kind of losses.
I needn’t have concerned myself
As the losses we each had/and were experiencing
Have more in common than not…
The core of loss is the human experience
Of living in a self-created tapestry
Of experience so familiar and trusted
That it feels TRUE;
Walking, waking next to a beloved, putting on a sock without struggle, calling home and expecting an answer.
When some sort of shattering occurs
And the status quo
Is no longer,
We meet the VACUUM.
Empty. (at least of what was..)
Foreign. (because it used to be filled with streets we knew by heart)
And unwelcome. (because we want what we want when we want it).
It takes years of negotiating the shattered shards of mirror on the floor
To see that our reflection
Is dependent solely on our point-of-view.
So…
When we’re done with the dirty and damp sheets
We’ve pulled over our heads
All the mornings we didn’t have it in us
To do the re-entry,
We get up
And chance a sideways glance
Into a different mirror
And perhaps dab on a bit of perfume
And see what’s out there.
‘Round a corner we’ve never travelled…
Stop at a pub and feign confidence…
Buy a hat with a feather
And feed the ducks in the park.
A moment, an hour, a day..
Whatever we can hold.
And onward we go…
And onward we go….
A slight nod to the person we pass in silence
As we see the carefully concealed tatters in her coat
That look just like our own.
Harvesting Breath
“WOMAN and MAN”, 2001, ceramic, 14″ x 4″ x 2″
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Breath, breathing, song, snoring are all themes asking me for their attention these days.
A flock of meadowlarks is visiting my neighborhood.
They make me stop in my tracks and drop my jaw
Because they carry the antithesis of winter with them
Under each wing. Listen…
I woke yesterday in the half-light of dawn to catch my dog, Olivia
Curled at the small of my back
Snoring in utter surrender
To sleep and dreams.
Today, I noticed my voice caught up in my throat
A bit too high
And reducing me to more of a ‘child-woman’
(in the not-good’ sense).
This phenomenon usually occurs
When I am worried or scared.
I also came across this YouTube video
Of a visionary man
Who is a composer/conductor/musician by trade.
He filmed himself silently conducting a choral piece he had written
And posted it on his blog along with an invitation
To all who were moved to,
To send in a film snippet of themselves giving voice
To his creation.
The result is this compilation of 2000 voices
From around the world
Edited together
To form a virtual choir!
I watched myself
Have to ease into a slowed down version
Of my customary eagerness to do ‘stuff’ fast
And close my eyes
And breathe slowly
In order to give myself
The gift of a proper listen
To this miracle.
It was the very best thing I have done for my sweet self
In a very long time.
I wish for you, the gift of the preciousness
Of shared breath
Which is right there for the taking..
A bountiful harvest always in season.
Dragonfly Medicine
monoprint, 1991, 30″ x 22″
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In the ZUNI NATIVE AMERICAN tradition
This symbol represents the dragonfly.
I had no idea why I was drawn to this design when I created it.
It was almost like I was craving a cross but couldn’t quite get solidly behind it
And came up with my own.
For a long time, I wondered if this represented the devil
Or the anti-christ.
This is how deeply our culture has imbedded itself in me;
Just fooling around with three lines in a composition
Can leave one waiting for a thunderbolt.
The other day; Monday, in fact,
I was shopping for a gift in my favorite store, KESHI,
Which hosts a veritable treasure trove of fetishes carved by local Native American tribes
Out of river rock, precious stone and everything in between.
Bronwyn, the owner, just casually offered up the information I needed about the real reason I was guided to create this symbol.
The DRAGONLY symbolizes transformation, a bridge to the Divine, the breaking of illusions.
Whichever pathway we choose to get ‘there’
Seems to give us just what we need
In the nick of time
Cloaked in the language we can hear most easily
And trust it was meant just for us.
The Ride
untitled, 36″ x 36″, m/m
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Thank you for your patience (or not) as I took an extended break.
I know, having been an artist for so many years,
The process of ANYthing
Occasionally needs some of what I call “GATHERING TIME.”
In my life, it looks like the water spigot
Just has a mind of it’s own
And no matter how much I coo and coerce
It just ain’t happenin’.
That is how I was left following my brother’s visit
And I am well aware this is a signal
SomeTHING is brewing in me..
Family is a great catalyst…
Welcome or not-
None of us are neutral in this department.
Honestly..
At this point, I am still unaware
Of what, exactly, is making it’s way toward consciousness
But I do know enough
To pay attention
And give myself a break
In the ‘YOU SHOULD’ department.
In the news today,
There appears a Japanese hero who rode the tsunami in his little boat called: “SUNFLOWER.”
If he had wavered in his decision to meet the unknown thing
And let the boat slide to the side even a little bit
The end result would have been quite different.
Where does the courage come to ride the wave?
And is it like a cat with nine lives?
Do we run out of the stuff at some point?
I actually have the sense
It has little to do with us
And everything to do with GRACE.
Saving A Life
“CLOUDS”, 2001, 10″ x 24″, m/m
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The Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.
© Mary Oliver.
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Equinox
detail of painting, m/m
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The word equinox literally means ‘equal night.’
The ancient Egyptians built the Great Sphinx so it faces the rising sun on the vernal (Spring) equinox.
This is a good time to think about balance.
I like the word: “COMPORTMENT.”
It feels like a very old word but I’m not sure about that.
It means ‘behavior’
And I think of the word when I see the Japanese people in their sorrow and utter grief
Over losing the life they knew
Just a week ago.
What do BALANCE and COMPORTMENT have to do with one another?
In my mind, I am pretty darn sure
That had the events in Japan
Happened on our soil, instead,
They would be held in a very different way
By the American population.
We, here, do not know much about containing our state of being.
We are exuberant and messy
In our efforts to wring every drop
Of individualism out of us
In fear someone might take it away.
The Japanese have exercised other muscles.
Not to say either is better or worse.
But witnessing a population
Suffer,
Taking care not to slime their neighbor
In the process
Causes me pause.
Really, the golden rule I follow
Which is truly my most potent medicine
Is the rock solid knowledge
That for every contraction
There is an equal expansion.
It usually does not come on my timetable
Which is unfortunate
But, it does come.
This morning’s example is my arm and leg
Which happen to be in periodic spasm.
I hate it.
I’m edgy and it just came out in a phone call with a friend.
Slime, slime..
This afternoon my body will be different.
Or it won’t
And tomorrow it will.
The point being
The Universe has a self-correcting
Button somewhere
Which creates balance.
We may want it NOW
Or never at all.
But today,
It soothes me
That there is a larger intelligence
Than mine.
Us and Them
detail,earth,ceramic,nails, 2006
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I have been tossed this way and that waiting for my soul to speak up
Regarding what is occurring in Japan.
Everything that surfaced felt colored by fear
Or denial
Or numbness
Or compassion,
Separateness,
Overwhelm,
Awe,
Anger,
Relief,
Curiosity,
Paralysis,
Love,
Terror,
And relief again..
The very humanness of me was/is
So relieved it wasn’t me.
I am saying this out loud only because it is the thing I most don’t want to admit.
The fact is
That it WAS me,
IS me,
And likely,
In the not too distant future
WILL BE me.
I will be the one walking exhausted beyond
Any weariness I’ve yet come through
Walking down a gritty road
Missing my beloved dog
Who I cannot find
And holding a shiny tea kettle
Fresh from my clean kitchen
Of an hour ago
Looking for water
Or food.
I am not a ‘dooms-day-er’.
Just a woman in love with life
As I know it today
And yesterday.
But who’s to say
We’ll get another day
Like today?
BMS and AFMS (before MS and after MS) was just like that.
Without the radiation or the 30′ wave.
But I am different
Because I had to be.
I know the terror of losing identities we are super-glued to
And I know what it takes to make new ones.
It is an arduous
And lonely road.
But along the way there are those who will offer you water
And a safe place to rest your weary head
As we all try to wrap ourselves around this new
And unfamiliar world.
My biggest and most constant teaching
Which MS doles out moment by moment, it seems,
Is that this particular road is not meant to be taken alone.
And so…
Even when we recoil at the thought of appearing
‘Less-than-knowing-it-all’
We have to bow our heads
And say: “Can you teach me what I need to know?”
And bow again
In gratitude
As the stranger walks on
With a cup of water
For our neighbor.
Rocking
untitled, 30″ x 30″, 1998,m/m
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HAIKU
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Someone in Japan
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Lost their tears to a big wave.
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I will give them mine.
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-CA
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