broken wing

This poor lovely soul has lost a wing. I dropped her and alas she has only one.



Myself, I feel broken too, as if without a wing. I did not drop myself. I have been spread far too thinly though. I have been pulled in so many directions. Mostly others needs have pulled me away. I have been pulled away from art. I have been pulled away from myself.

YET, I am amazed at how strong I have remained. At times, when my thoughts are seemingly filled with concerns, questions, and possible solutions, what one could call worry, I can mostly manage to pull myself out of that dificult place with a walk outdoors where I can admire the flowers, pull a few undesirables, quite easily find feathers or hear the cooing dove. There is even a dove at the farm. At least I have heard it. An even greater life saver is my art. At times I have really not felt like doing art. I have practically forced myself to do it. I know it will bring me peace and contentment, further strength. Sometimes I just need to think about art. I can think of possibilities of art quilts and canvas bags. I remember lovely examples at Amy Butler's or Cath Kidston's "homes". (Sorry I don't have time to grab the links. I know you can find them).
So now I will dream of the future of my art. I know I will soon be able to share my many new adventures in jewelry design and production. I will have completed altered books to share as well as vintage style designs.

As I leave you with angel blessings I hope that you will continue to keep me within your thoughts and prayers. I also hope that you will remain strong as well and especially remember that ART SAVES.

Angels be with you.

a little list for today

some days

some days just feel like everything is asunder. everything topsy turvy. everything kind of askew.one day even brought me momentarily a world tipped sideways. what does that mean I wonder? how am I to cope with all the dis comfort, all the dis ease?
it feels that I am grieving so many people - not all dead but just gone.
it feels that I am grieving joy and jovial. they too seem just gone.
it feels that I am grieving nature.
I am tired of grieving.

kitty cat sits beneath legs of my chair. I hear her subtle movement. I find another feather. I carry it with me as I am taking Billy for his walk. it belongs with my collection. that is where I place it. I see angels and colours and sunsets. I hear the dove cooing. a sigh escapes me. I wonder when I might feel like getting back to art. I have played with technology. is that art? it always feels like cheating to me. I know it is not. it feels it is.



I hear the clock tick tock. I see the "I am amazing" sign turn in the breeze. I wonder who I am. I wonder if anyone cares. I know they do but I wonder.