feast for the senses

i've been busy... very. painting. living. unable to both blog here and work. have too much of an addictive personality. once i start to look around the blogworld for inspiration, it's hard to stop. discipline has never been my strong point. neither is properly documenting my work but that will come, i'm sure. 

now the end of the 12-week portfolio project time frame is almost/already over and i'm in full gear, but somehow out of touch with the game... into my own world. (actually, it was never a game for me..) i guess that's ok, but i do long for more balance. IN LIFE. and i miss writing. miss that way of connecting to self. something bigger.

my daughter turned 3 yesterday, my mom was visiting for a short while... so many sweet moments; so many fights inside my skin. and i'm grateful.

spring

words have failed me

as i've immersed myself in colours

and the challenge of constantly letting go,

i am faced with allowing what emerges

to be just that

testing my perseverence muscles 

for holding the postures of 

faith, disgust, fear, excitement

and going on

just going on

when i start painting again, i can't imagine 

that i ever survived without it

impatience 

speaks in tongues

in my home

speaks in whirlwinds

attempting glory

when most are sleeping

impatience 

speaks of loftiness

imparting darkness

to the night

impatience

wants more than she can have

deserves all

that she can want

with impatience

my 95 yr young grandmother

a true inspiration

i've remembered that:

showing up

listening

following

trusting

letting go

remembering (to enter this process)

again & again

and choosing (to do so)

is (what being in the creative cycle) is

to me

it goes without saying

with my snappy little tongue

that words find their home

in that tiny little rung

-the one that goes upwards

the one that goes down,

the one that find peace

in the snap of a sound

this refers to the reeling

the gnawing, the climb

but also the sniper

the slither, the slime

this refers to the river

the big open shoes

the ladel, the cricket

-this rung knows no rules!

and after i'm finished 

with this little rhyme

i'll probably stop it- 

this silly little climb

for often 

what's needed

is sharing the game,

the way that my world works

and that's nothin' lame

i have a million daily thoughts and reminders and ah-hahs and deep reflections or absolutely miniscule detailed images that travel around my heart and head and feed my soul- for which i wish i had a personal secretary.     or one of those notepads which hang around the neck with an attached pencil so as not to be lost, and to make notes for myself from the day. i actually mean more of the philosophical kind, not the laundry or shopping list kind- tho that would be practical in it's own right.      one of the things i'd like to make notes of is a repeated circling experience i have at different points in my life.... for example, when i've been out and about and feeling well in my skin, having nourished some particular aspect of personal need, and i'm on my way home... and i can perceive the energetic magnet of familiarity, of weighted patterns of behaviour, of the tendency to get caught up in/lost with my family &/or relationship life in the way of neglecting my creative needs, or to be in my own world, breathing deeply before a cup of tea OR WHATEVER...      and everytime i'm aware of this onset, this entering the potential of getting lost in the maze again, i ask myself to remember this feeling, this sensing my skin and its edges, and i ask myself if i am able to imagine entering it just a little bit differently this time. not because it's bad- it's a world that i love- but to offer the aspect of myself that tends to drown under the weight of habit and especially old, not-particularly-serving-habits and negative little cynicisms and simply going to bed too late for almost the entirety of my teenage & adult life- a new possibility of behaving, of being.

HOPE

i'm

showing up

wordless

tho

giggled today

lots

with 

my daughter

too many disconnected words 

to make meaning outa anything

but that's ok

cause 

i should be sleeping

and actually, i had hoped 

to let underworld creatures

guide me

in my dreams

every time i walk in these doors 

i am close to tears

sometimes they flow to the surface,

other times they just mingle inside

with the memories

today i was in this hospital again

and was reminded of the stories

i've painted here before;

they whispered to me about floor F

when inquiring about paperwork i needed

they spoke easily about floor E

which is where i stayed when my daughter was born

i wasn't given what i came for

but i left with an eerie sense of the forbidden,

the things we're supposed to hide

others have written about finding a word for 2009.   

scrap lists of resolutions- but find a word to hold onto as a friend. 

to use as a light, a reminder- a light reminder. 

and it's not something i've searched for but which has come to me anyway.

soulful.