Friday, July 20, 2012

Lacking Pigment

 This stretch of time has held many in the affects of the Transit of Venus. For this vivid dreamer, it has produced visions & dreams lacking pigment, a bit crystal like...intangible & not my own.


My Heritage
 A trip to the East Side of the Sierras with my friend NanO drew me to embrace my heritage and for the first time in my life, defaced a tree, adding to the Basque tradition of tree porn on the Eastern Side of the sierras. Note the interesting placement of a spiders egg sack in the old carving that I incorporated into my new one.

The Holy Dove Has Flown


The ups and downs of life that seemingly should even out by the age of 51, have proven to have sharp curves and rocky slopes. Hang on for dear life, then brake at the cliffs. Life would be smoother & easier were I a more practical sort, seeking stability and evenness. Subtle head strongness can be exhausting for an old Grandma, but a sit with a dear friend reminds me that even exhaustion can be transformed through art (never close yourself to what a friend may offer at the most unexpected moment).   Plowing through each obstetrical like a mule in a corn field full of rocks seems to be necessity for some. How else can you ever plant a crop that thrives? Right now...my best crop is Purslane!  

Learning my camera (the technical parts of it) is a must for me at this point as well as pursuing an opportunity to write a children's book with an artist who would make a perfect match as the illustrator.  Of course there are rocks to be moved. This post is the beginning of  major excavation in hopes, no, intent on plowing through the block that is, was, can no longer be the granite stone in my row. I suppose being a daughter of a Farmer from Chualar/ photo journalist/ English professor has a bit to do with my analogies here.     

Some recent poems & photos of nice times spattered about this post as well as perhaps bits more of my blatherings. I hope intend this post to be a milestone in the waters of uncertainly which seem to wash over my life. 

The rock (moved it myself)





The hard place (what drove me to move it)











Pains Whisper

Soaking in like rain on sphagnum moss ~ your love for me
Rolling off like rain on a ducks back ~ my love for you
Beauty beyond a fairy’s lucid dream, the pain you pour forth
Never had I known…the loveliness that blossom’s from pain.

Must this spiraling inferno posses me so ~ breathlessly?
Could the wind never cease to blow ~ so hot, so slow ?
Slain was the dragon who blew the windy fire from below
The dragons den…bones, whimsical chimes, snow & rain

Clinging to loves sweet supple fruit ~ mangos ~ ripe to squeeze

A slipper, comfortable, warm, dependable ~ tossed out the door
The wrens drop on it a spat with seeds…  Spring’s Clarkia
Place the heart of the dove in the Dragon’s den, gently as she came

Lay me down in a field of blooming mallow ~ color my cheeks         
Press me like the field poppy flattened in the book ~ of my youth
Honey so sweet in the morning, laying in my bed, forming crystals -
what sparkle  all around, gently stroking, gently stroking…the flame

 Breath of life, sorrows blessed curse ~ weigh upon the moth
White as down in a wood nymphs bundle ~ yet it does glow
Softly the whisper states all that stirs in this suffering heart
 Parching all that wafts along, coming close, resting from pain

Vacant light, transcends the orb quieting the Universe ~ a grain
Sand as far as the mirage deceives, or perceives ~ a whisper
Softly, softly the whisper that sweetens the morning with light        
Whisper softly, whisper softly, 
                                    whisper, whisper…whisper…softly
             
 ~J~moonmango      7/9/12




Well, it aint' gonna get any better after all...




Azure on flower Burts Canyon











Camping at Obsidian
Campgrounds on the East Side
with NanO was a great way to spend the 4th of July. Hardly a soul in sight except the bear that ate our apples & the 20 odd baby grouse at our feet, many birds & bugs. 


An apple would be nice now...















Where you hang your hat...
Loveliness
















Rough life~


Tight Aster
 The petals of a flower wild ~ friendships sweet blanket ~ a cloak ~ a crown ~ a throne











Hardly A Morning…

Hardly a morning passes when the sun does not greet the moon in passing upon my breast from gentle star lit darkness to warming light.

On occasion, the suns crepuscular rays brush lightly upon my back as I wake…colliding warmth & coolness into electric thunder; awakening every cell to ecstatic bliss.

The times when morning comes slowly, lingering upon its horizon, seem most precious somehow. Morning waking with tenderness and cool breezes which stir deep within, subside, then stir again what lies patiently anticipating~ anticipating~ anticipating…the day?

Silver crescent moon & bright planets bowing and backing away, making way for the suns light * these days and nights of the Universe transitioning, reek mayhem and ravage every sense upon my rising.

All this, only to leave me weary, then rise up in calamity once again…again, weary, rising up in calamity ~  once again…

When silver orb & golden ball of fiery light forget each other at times, the wakening to the stars and crisp air stir me cognizant from unconsciousness, kindle and revive ~ that which lay lull in zoetic light of moon.

Lingering days stretching long keep warm the moons time… allow morning sun rays to caress uncovered flesh, gifting it such with pleasant glow, like fine beach sand ~ slowly sifting ~ through a child’s fingers to sprinkle a freshly formed castle. Moon & Sun intertwining in silky warmth … spreading out along a river of stars & clouds  

Hardly a morning passes when the sun and the moon upon my waking breast does not set the tone of anticipation of the new day. A Union of cosmic syrup; like honey & molasses coat and run down, blanketing that which lie exposed.

Hardly a morning….

                              Hardly a morning passes~

                                                                Precipitating …anticipating…

                                                                                                             Hardly a morning~


~J~moonmango            7/16/12




 A trek part way to Jackass Lake with Lori & her pooches was beautiful and made me realize how much my health has taken a dive this past couple years. Time to push!
 This time of year is magic. The garden is bringing forth bounty, the fledglings are fledgling, music begins in town and the whole community comes alive. How truly blessed I am to live life in my backyard.
Tiger Lily
log dogs


Follow the signs...
Lori & her worship team.




This post, like the others is to share with you the leg of the journey I bumble through at the moment. Each stretch would have me crippled & unable to carry on if not for that which hold me in a palm and each family member & friend in these posts. If you are reading this...you are in these posts. In between each line is everyone who impacts my life.  Funny how we can make a difference without even knowing. A friend posting the right thing at the right time to encourage...how could he know? An old friend...who just knows... Family, always family... An elderly gentleman I cleaned for yesterday impacted my life hugely and may never know how much. In the two hours I cleaned, and the 20 minutes I spent after he took my hand and said "sit with me a minute" he taught me how to sing into the crook, dance on the  kitchen floor, hear lovely music, laugh at all that is simple, drink good wine, and settle for no less than I deserve. All this applying in all ways to every aspect of life. The morning began with "you look especially nice today...why is that?" So much to learn, so much you all teach me, so much to be grateful for.

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