Love Lives Here

when words evade me

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice-
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations, though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen branches and stones.
but little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do-
determined to save
the only life you could save.
                                                   The Journey by Mary Oliver

autumn ramblings 9

or "taking a creative interlude"

As you could realize from my latest ramblings ~ sometimes the rambling is a bit hard to take. As I began the ramblings, I believe I had mentioned that what was flowing through onto these pages was very much the way things are within me. Confusing. Making no sense. Never ending. I suspect you have been getting numerous indications of that particularly recently. You might pause to wonder how anyone could survive a continuous, ongoing thought process as that. That is at times what boggles my mind - how to get away from it. How to unwind the tightly wound knob on my back so that the thought process might slow down. 

I am so grateful for a creative soul. So grateful for an awareness of nature and the need to "be still". So grateful for music. So grateful for tools and imagination and eyes that "see beyond".

Truly I have tried to remain creative. Here is one of my more recent creations shown in steps from earlier beginnings of a sketch to looking very gaunt, to looking like a sophisticated young lady very worthy of framing. I often begin sketches on whatever happens to be handy as I prepare to talk with my Momma on the telephone. Those beginning sketches are sometimes "way off" but I have been reminded time and time again to practice. That is another part of what keeps me going in this creative journey.

 Created with graphite, soft pastels, pastel pencils.  

I know. She looks pretty scary above. She would have been very appropriate for Halloween or some very scary movie. Funny. I trusted myself and carried on. I have learned that a very bad, nearly frightening look is typical at some stage in most paintings. Trust in oneself. And I realize now that creating brings about trust. Ah, I think I learned that a long time ago. It was just a lesson forgotten, a lesson which I should allow to be at the forefront much more often, in creating, as in life.  
 

"You know, you do need mentors, but in the end, you really just need to believe in yourself."
                                                             Diana Ross                                     

Angel blessings my friends.

Longing for the sun to shine: for more than a few minutes anyway. I'm needing to catch up with all my wonderful friends on the web. I've been very negligent the past few day, weeks. I also need to be doing the laundry.
Today I've discovered the website of a fabulous artist/writer, thanks to a comment one of the yahoo groups. I guess what first caught my attention is that Nick Bantock lives on Salt Spring Island in British Columbia. This will be a new dream - to one day visit his gallery there. I've been reasonably close. To do one of his workshops would be, well, like a nearly impossible dream.
Some simple artwork from recent past, on top left, done at farm, (perspective's just a bit off ; )) and a number from more distant past, about 10 years ago.