Photo on 2011-01-21 at 13.50 #8.jpg

Welcome Friends.

I've been lost. You’ve probably been lost too. We find ourselves as we journey, as our stories lay the stone steps of the paths we walk. Sometimes the paths we crawl.

Meditation Moment

Meditation Moment

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This canvas print hangs in my studio, pretty sure it came from Target years ago. I love the on-purpose prompt of purpose.  

Most days, I follow a morning-and-evening-ritual moment of meditation that help me get into a posture of reviewing my Intentions for the day, for the night. Sometimes all I can manage is the next four hours, but nonetheless, it's the calming cue in movement of time, in time, through time. Motion. Not restrictive, unbalanced or running out. Time is steady as she goes and doesn't care if I'm using mine well with wisdom or waste. It just is and continues to keep being and there is no rush. No angst. Nothing but time.

I open the curtains.

There is something inviting of the day with the pulling back of flowered material, patchwork with sequins and a color block of grey blackout. In my bug's rooms, I gather the centers of each panel with yarn. As I do this, the day spills in with its palette of color, splashing into corners, onto walls and through my mind the possibility of Intention. The openness of loam and bud release, my eyes stretch and settle. Whether I am greeted with fog, storm or brilliant early sun, the act of welcoming whatever-is-to-come is my acquiescence. I am ready.  

I close the curtains.

In trod with time, another day has begun it's tuck into cozy slippers. I do not say goodbye; instead I greet the onset of evening, giving thanks for breath that fills my lungs, muscles that can get sore, a heart that can break. I bless the immortal for my mortal passage. I untie yarn, draping Elliot's, then Sam's onto a curved iron hook in my studio, nicely positioned between their rooms. After I pull towards the window center flowered material, patchwork with sequins and the color block of grey blackout, I turn on bedside lamps. Sun shadow is replaced by bulb shadow. As I do this, I embrace the hush of day. Charcoal hours yet remain with much possibility of Intention. I am ready.   

20 Jobs in 20 Years, make that almost 21

The Myriad #Miscarriage

The Myriad #Miscarriage