observance

This is a difficult day. Eleven months before September 11th, I took the elevator down from the 71st floor of Tower 2 on the last day of a consulting job never to physically go in or see the buildings again. I am still haunted by the fact that had my employers decided to keep on the consultants for one additional year, I would have been at my desk at 7:45AM unaware that the closest stairwell did not lead to safety. I wonder if I would have been at the window looking out at the water as I often did before I turned on my computer and seen the plane. Would I have ignored the voice on the intercom that said stay where you are as the building shook (they did sway a tiny bit when the winds were high). Today my thoughts return to where I was when I heard about the first plane hitting the Towers and the agonizing days, weeks, months and years that followed for countless people including me. I won’t say much except my heart still aches for the many lost, wishes that we were more tolerant of one another’s differences, wonders where all that love that united us a country in the aftermath of 9/11 disappeared to and that I am so very grateful to be here.

keep your peepers open!®

notes to self

It is weekend 2 of working on my commission for a goddess collage…I take note of a new appreciation for what artists go through when they are asked to create rather than creating freely.

The process of gathering clippings to create the collage was much the same as always -- whip through magazines and catalogs snatching pages with pictures that resonate with me -- with one exception. Normally I pull with no intention, piling up the table for some future sit down; I was now pulling with a purpose and a deadline. Last week, I allowed those two things to interfere with the freedom that comes when the table suddenly calls because a goddess is ready to be collaged into existence. The paper beneath my fingers was not talking to me as it usually does and though I did indeed see someone blossoming, the process felt unfamiliar which led me to another note to self. Over the years, the goddess collages have evolved from unclothed torsos to full bodied clothed beings meaning as they changed, so did my creative process; my commission is for the former. I was not at all sure I still had it in me to bring forth a creature similar in feel to the pieces made in the past but yesterday, something took hold of me when I sat down to the table. Spirit guided me to that space where my voice takes shape in collage form as naturally as day turns into night, where I simply had to let go of all expectation and preconceived notions so we could happen in the now.

And she is unfolding just the way she should, one piece of paper at a time beautifully, curvaceously and rather statuesque I must say! Unfortunately, you will have to wait until late October for the unveiling so…

keep your peepers open!®

dayzd

I have no desire to join the pilgrimage of folks who clog the roads as they return to life after Labor Day preferring to sit it out on vacation each year. While it's great to view it from the sidelines, I always feel a tad bit dazed and confused when I finally go back to work. It takes me a long minute to remember that both Monday AND Tuesday have passed, to get into the rhythm of the week and just as I do, it’s Friday. Matter of fact, I almost forgot that today is Wednesday. Thank goodness for the electronic post-its on my phone or I would have forgotten to post!

Happy back to traffic week and for sure…

keep your peepers open!®

snippy

On this first morning of September, I sit down to begin work on my first commission, a goddess collage for the Capital Breast Care Center's Gift of Life Benefit (www.capitalbreastcare.org). It is an honor to receive an invitation to create a piece of artwork for auction at their October breakfast, tingling with giddy anticipation wondering who will take shape beneath my fingertips.

As I take to my scissors, I wish I had had them handy to snip these blossoms…

…but on second thought, it’s better to snap than snip leaving natures beauty in tact to be beheld by others. 

Please enjoy these glorious blooms as summer begins to close and autumn opens. In weeks to come I'll be sure to post whomever appears once the last snippet of paper completes her goddess form, so…

keep your peepers open!®

six women

what follows is a brief poetic synopsis of a discussion in response to this question found in a magazine that I now can’t seem to locate, “If Life made a promise to the world the moment you were born, what would it be?”

rippling forces born of love
between the pages in a book of qualities
loud as quiet lightening
voice the word no, no apology necessary
then simply move on with resilient twists
lose their way in order to find it
in control.

Ponder that question, you may be surprised where it will take you. While you’re at it, check out The Book of Qualities and…

keep your peepers open!®

thank you dm, vp, kr, hs, ns

flourishing

And the day came
when the risk to remain tight in a bud
was more painful than
the risk it took to blossom.
– Anaïs Nin

keep your peepers open!®

crooked stitches

My fondness for nursery rhymes learned when I was a child has not diminished as an adult. Many of them have come to mean much more now that I am older, wiser, and have a different relationship with and understanding of words. Sometimes when the sing-songy sounds pop into my head, they seem to be teasing me about what is happening in my life prompting me to chuckle rather than fret. Take for example this one:

There was a crooked man, and he walked a crooked mile,
He found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile;
He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse,
And they all lived together in a little crooked house.

This short tale of a man, who I now feel had problems with his spine, perhaps an arthritic condition, resonates with me because after seeing a chiropractor earlier this year I found that both my back and neck are crooked, seriously in need of correction. When I was first shown my x-rays, I left the doctor's office almost in tears; the rhyme spoke to me just as I was about to break down. Giggling, I realized that my visit was the beginning of a much needed mending of injuries sustained years ago, that this "stitch in time" is saving me from what could have progressed into an irreversible condition leading to pain and limited mobility later in life.

Now I know that crooked has another meaning; my interpretation of the crooked man and all the other bent and misshapen things collected along his path has never wandered into the shade. Don’t get it twisted people, do…

keep your peepers open!®