poetry Thursday

This week's theme is time. My offering...

bare branches

Hours gather, fallen leaves, vibrant
but dying. We long to press them
into bright, talismans. Memory, we pretend,
is surely the moment captured, time held
in amber stillness, beautiful and unaltered.

But days drift and pile into damp mounds.
Beneath they decay, destined to lose themselves
to the earth. Our hands cannot hold them all
or save even the most vivid of moments
from the final, soft dissolve into forgetting.

just fly...

I'm hungry...

family ties (nooses actually)

Good Lord! What a weekend! Actually, Saturday was quite pleasant, normal... Ryan's birthday party was fun... but Sunday... egads!!!! Let this be a lesson... caller id can save you a lot of agony. But, of course, I do not heed my own advice...

Geeze... how do I write this with humor??? Here goes...My youngest sister is quite mad (as in- c r a z y). Her life has been a series of white trash dramas that Jerry Springer would find perfectly enchanting. Yesterday's played out like this... my phone rings (arg!) and my other sister is frantic. Things have reached crisis mode up in the f'ing backwoods of Utah. L'il sis and hubby are at it again. I think I'll just list some keywords and let the reader piece this B.S. together...
hedgehog
methadone
u-haul
amputation
adultry
plane ticket
young 'un
blah, blah, blah...
A situation, so bizarre it reads like VERY BAD fiction, unfolds against a tableau of Mormonism (excuse me if that is mispelled... it is not worth spell-cking... I am very open-minded re: religion, but that one is beyond the pale!), the Crestview Motel and gold mining. I need never dream of space travel, as I have experienced it already. I traveled to the planet TrailerPark yesterday. My ear is bleeding from the shit that was shoved into it. And since when am I the voice of reason!??
So, 400 wasted dollars and 6 hours of phone time later the happy couple has reconciled. Ain't love grand!?
My poor Texas sister (just trying to help the Wild One) ... my poor husband (a saint with a credit card)...my poor ear (probably pemanently damaged from the heat of my smokin' cell phone)... my poor nephew (doomed by circumstances beyond his control)...
This is really not funny...
I would so move to an island that had no phone service... seriously... I would...

ah, the genius of David Lean...

from Dr. Zhivago

~a lovely thought on a 105 degree day~

for Poetry Thursday

realistic expectations vs the world's largest frying pan

I'm consistent, you have to give me that.
I take the number three, multiply it by orange
and am astonished by the sum,
which is radishes squared, of course.
When I put wheels on a piece of toast
I expect a twelve string guitar
and into my hands drops a Limoges dish
with a gilded rim and violets.
I sleep in a nest of teacups and socks
and wonder why I wake up sun burnt.
This is the story of my every day,
how I stir the same ingredients
in the same old silver shoe
and stand amazed at the elixir
that pours across my threshold-
a tried and true potion, as reliable
as the moon's ballet.
I take a sip, wait for striped fur
to unfurl down my arms,
when I know that I can only grow
pansies in the furrow of my brow.

August sunrise

Mornings like this make north Texas bearable. The sky is so beautiful here. Very nice to wake up to this splendor.

oh, stop it!

torches!!!

almost done

Will's castle room is nearly done. I have to make the banners and theflicking torch lights (I love IKEA!) need to be put up. It's looking very cool!

poetry thursday

what I would have said

I see them down a long hallway,
doors shut tight against the words
I did not say. Behind them are worlds
I will never glimpse. The keys rest
in my belly, swallowed long ago
and left to rust.

Regret is an inimitable sorrow,
that whispers in your ear;
possibilities unclaimed,
opportunities overlooked.
It recalls for me the slight slope
of your shoulders, your hair
brushing your collar,
the back of your blue shirt
that grew smaller as I watched you go.

My tongue was a gold bar
heavy with potential.
With it I could have bought
a human heart, but it lay behind my lips
cold and thick. Silence flowered
from my mouth, formed a thorny bower,
lush and impenetrable. Sturdy vines
crept down the hall, covered the door
and obscured the threshold of hope.

I did not say your name,
but kept it, a gilded briar
as shiny as a new key.

getting there...

We are through painting!!! Ignore the dumb lamp, blue sheets and the curtains hung by clothes pins (I forgot to pick up a curtain rod) . Still have more to do, but it is looking very Lord of the Rings-ish!!!

Clara

all in a day's work..

Will's castle room... a work in progress.

losing Polaris

Losing Polaris

You hover like the Golden Peg,
brilliant and distant, your steady light
meant to steer me, pull me into clarity’s
clean embrace. But I am a gypsy now.
In shadowed moments my hair has grown wild,
my hands rough. Robbed of my language,
my lips are parchment, my mouth a dry well.
And I have strayed from my caravan.

The wind whips my spangled skirts
and I am not eager for your guidance.
I like the forest at night, how it draws
me deeper into the violet smudges
of the unknown, pulls my eyes
from the twinkling and into the dusky dark
of webs and folded wings.
I rest beneath the balsam branches,
close my eyes until I feel the weight
of storm clouds on my brow.
Tonight I aim to follow my own True North,
led by thunder and the tempest’s blazing slivers.

Cynosura moves- its constancy overrated.
Though the drift is slight, the fact remains-
the pole star shifts, slides across the velvet sky
and another takes its place.

all hail the amazing Tim Holtz!

Wow! What a wonderful time we had with Tim! The time flew by. I learned some great new techniques and spent too much $$$. Tim was wonderful... funny, smart, very professional. We made a technique book. Aside from one lady who felt compelled to bitch and moan for the entire workshop (of course, she's at our table) everything was perfect. Tim provides all the supplies you need, so while you may come to the workshop empty handed, it is quite unlikely you will depart in the same condition. I got some great inks in lucious colors and a few other goodies. Whew... I need a beverage. I am stoned on art.

art day!!!

My friend Laurie and I are off to theTim Holtz workshop this morning!!! I know it will be wonderful and inspiring!!!! Hopefully my kids won't burn down the house or give the dog a lobotomy. Beyond that... anything goes... as long as they don't call me!

listen...

Stirring it up...

I am honored to have one of my poems published here http://www.sundress.net/stirring/index.html in the August issue of Stirring. Among the fine poets I have the privilege of appearing with in this publication is L.J. Cohen http://www.bluemusepoetry.com/ , a fellow Wilder, talented writer and extremely kind soul. Take a gander if you find the time.

poetry Thursday

This week's theme is finding inspiration in a song. Like most everyone else on the planet, music touches me. I love many kinds of music, but a favorite is flamenco. Johannes Linstead is remarkably talented and I find his work very uplifting. http://johanneslinstead.com/ Take a listen and perhaps his talent will inspire you, also.
I wrote this cinquain to honor his lovely music and gentle spirit.







For Johannes

Your hands
are a wonder,
instruments of magic
that rain sparks and novas upon
my heart.

live it up!

Okay... The picture is what my kids are dreaming of. School starts next Monday. Poor things. Why on earth Texas (aka~ the surface of the sun) starts school so damn early is beyond me. It is too hot to think. August is summer for christssakes! But noone asked me,so off to school they go next week.

So... I am trying to do a zillion things this week, including turning Will's room into a medieval castle. No worries...I like a challenge.

do you believe in magic?

I have built my life,
trick by trick, on the flash
and faith of magic.
Some call it hope,
that place in me
that thinks the stars
hold secrets.

I am not the one
that parts the curtain
or waves away the smoke,
but the face in the crowd
that only looks up
and sees the things
with wings.

for poetry Thursday...

Provisions

In hard times rations appear,
less and less
savory, but it is enough
to be sustained. Gratitude
washes the most meager
meal down a parched throat.
Who would dream
of wanting more?

The riverbed is a sorry sight.
The trickle of dull water
is silent and miserably slow.
Even the reeds stand wilted
and brown in the broken earth.
The endless fields are stripped.
A greedy wind has taken
the last grains and borne them away
to fall on more fertile land.

And yes, the cupboard stands
ajar and emptier than an overturned
sky. On the counter, a small plate,
a crazed teacup, an inch of liquid,
a heel of bread. For this I must sing.
So I do, clear and precise,
with the voice of something
winged or hallowed.

I submit to survive
and consume what is dictated.
But no one, except myself,
will guide my hand,
or part my lips,
or ever own my hunger.

my fairy book is done!

is it just me...

or is there something very disturbing about this photo???

Sunday rocks! I mean it!

Stop the excitement! Sunday afternoon in the 'burbs is too wild!!! There's a low speed chase on tv right now featuring the Dallas PD and an eighteen wheeler and I'm thinking of ordering an ant farm! Hot damn!! Don't you wish you were me???

oh,yeah...

focus, focus...

Honeymoon Beach, St. John, USVI... awaiting my return...

I will not mention the damn ridiculous heat...
I'm going to go sit in the shallow end of the pool
and drink an iced Tequiza.

Frida journal

I'm almost done with my larger collages. At last...
Hideously hot today. Going out by the pool shortly...
The whole city feels lethargic...

Tanabata

Tanabata, also known as the "star festival", takes place on the 7th day of the 7th month of the year, when, according to a Chinese legend, the two stars Altair and Vega, which are usually separated from each other by the milky way, are able to meet.
One popular Tanabata custom is to write one's wishes on a piece of paper, and hang that piece of paper on a specially erected bamboo tree, in the hope that the wishes become true.
Any event that includes hanging pretty things in trees appeals to me. I love this photo.

weather report

Yesterday was a little warm... officially 103, but the bricks on house were hotter. It is hard to tell since the devil's left nut... er, I mean,the sun has fried off the red numbers of our thermometer. On the right is the egg we cooked with sunlight. Yum! I think I'll toss a roast out there today since it is supposed to be 104. There are a few clouds (I THINK that's what they are) today, so I think I might not be able to fry anything, but the oven is ON! Looks like a cold front is headed our way... Wednesday it will drop down to 100! Brrrrr...
In St. Thomas today it is 89 and clear. sigh...

Lagoon nebula

ahhh... I could eat the sky with a spoon.

Galveston morning

100_1964
Originally uploaded by seadreamstudiotx.

No, this is not the crystal blue Caribbean, but Galveston has its own charms.

in the works...

unspoken

Here are the things I am not to speak of,
wrapped in barbs and snowy tulle,
all the things forbidden or deemed
too tender for the slightest touch.
In the middle of this hayfield I stack
a circle of stones around them.
You might think I mean to build
a pyre, but I am making a monument,
a tower to touch the sky and honor
the time for dreams and secrets.
You will not stop me, my love.
My hands were formed for this task
Take my silence as your tribute.
Hear in it the song that flowered
from drought and darkness.
Listen, listen.

Guess what? I did not finish the collages today. Whatever... I am almost done. My sis came over and we hung out and played with her cool new phone. I love gadgets!!

It is too hot to think. The humidity must be a zillion per cent.
Friggin' Texas...

Forgive me this idiotic post. My brain is on idle... and I think there might be a valve sticking...

Off to read "One Hundred and One Ways".

yes, Johnny...

... of course I'll stay up until 3 am for you... Home from Dead Man's Chest and I can say that I have indeed been entertained... Off to have pirate dreams...

all in a day's work...

Yea! These five collages are finished (back and front). They are 3" x 5" and will be encased in glass like my pendants. I am going to make several more this size and some larger ones. I am really enjoying working on these larger pieces after so much teeny-tiny work. These are comissioned pieces, but I am going to make some more for eBay.

I'm taking Kate,Ryan and Will out to dinner then at12:01 a.m. Will and I are off to see the first showing of "Pirates of the Caribbean~ Dead man's Chest". Do I know how to live, or what??

I made a wish...

... banner, that is. I really enjoyed working on this. I have two others that are in progress. I think this is my new obsession.

wet

at last... I really hate rain, but even I can appreciate this weather. This is the first decent rain since April 28th. The lake where my in-laws just bought their house is seven or eight feet low...looks awful. A while ago I went out and stood barefoot on the wet grass and smelled the freshness in the air. It's even cool tonight (for Texas in July). So maybe this will not become the second Dust Bowl afterall.

perils of conversation

It is an evening in midsummer.
There is an improbable sky unfurled above us
and the end of daylight is paused behind a stand of cedars.
We have come to that point where words are useless.
They would only slip from our lips, flutter in the still air
and land like false snow in parched drifts.
And if one got caught, say, on your lashes,
a word like never or remember, then I might forget
the ravine at the edge of the yard or recall
your hand low on my back, the force
in counterpoint to your whisper, to and fro.
I might reach to brush it, that quivering word,
and you might catch my hand and bring it to your lips.
But the sun slips in silence,
the night rises like a predictable flood
and I watch your silhouette
as you step into the rift
without a sound.

You Are Austin

A little bit country, a little bit rock and roll.You're totally weird and very proud of it.Artistic and freaky, you still seem to fit in... in your own strange way. Famous Austin residents: Lance Armstrong, Sandra Bullock, Andy Roddick

What'>http://www.blogthings.com/whatamericancityareyouquiz/">What American City Are You?