Building blocks

We exist in this space,

a vast expanse of that which is seen

yet strangely what most matters is that

which is never seen,

only imagined.

We come together through words,

song and music and the beauty of arts

bringing change through an idea,

another of the unseen yet still lingering there

somewhere on the space of the edge of reason,

we move forward driven

and not knowing why

we jump into the abyss of the unknown to find

that which we know we cannot touch

until we come before

like bubbling skies of clouds

somewhere within there may be

flashes of light and water waiting

for the right moment

as the winds come together in unison

a perfect moment is reached

and a storm is born to quench

parched souls and soil,

we dance below the indigo sight

becoming one with that which we are

nature and the undeniable self-created

a moment which is here then gone,

unlike any other that has been nor will be,

building blocks of the universe and dreams

collide with abandon

with spirit and everything that is.

“Dreams are the seeds of change. Nothing ever grows without a seed, and nothing ever changes without a dream.” ย Debby Boone

Going about it

The business of just being

finding themselves moving about this life,

two souls hobnobbing about with royalty,

going about it in their own way,

in search of the shine of a better day.

Silly things really, stowed away

almost unseen like the lizard on a car

and a license of integrity,

did she see in the rearview the passenger

catching a breeze on a hot day,

jumping to a new destination

free ride on the by-way,

perhaps a thumb out as if to say,

hey babe, heading my way?

Turning and moving away from the path

small dot still remains heading home,

and its never as great as the fish that almost got away

before taking a nose dive into the boat

trying so hard to escape

but alas, not your time yet

a bit too small to be part of the haul

so back you go to the locker

and the hook plunges in

tempting heads to entice the supper

waiting at the bottom

as the rain waits to fall

this surreal world comes to call

and I write the fodder of a passing day

rightly ended with a splash of color over head

the skies jumbo slide hangs

and I wonder where the pot at the end

waits and for whom,

if not the dreamer and the images cast

leaving a new thought behind

to an imagination fertile

with wondrous things.

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Thoughts on yesterday again at the Dali museum, and how coming home, a lizard was riding on a womans back windshield, out of the wind as he didn’t go flying off, her license plate said integrty….I would think if she knew, she’d pull over and let the little chap off. The evening ending with a huge rainbow over our house which will be a photo for a post in the future….the fountain of youth outside Dali museum, I was laughing at the hubby, telling him it must be broken when I touched the spigot, water came rushing out and literally scared the bejesus out of me, I jumped like a scalded cat but had a good laugh, I guess that’s what will keep us young. Imagination and fun…my kind of life ๐Ÿ™‚ The fish tale (a mermaid perhaps) is coming out of the Rolls Royce that sported the two snails on the front. The inside of the car has water running down like a reverse fountain, with the tale how we try to escape the rain by rushing into our car or home, yet here the rain is within. Very cool to see ๐Ÿ™‚

 

A morning with Salvador

We wander the walls intent on seeking

the measure of the mind of madness,

oils on canvas watch us watching them

the brush strokes of genius

as baskets of bread long to be touched

to feel the harsh crust

and smooth out the napkins below.

Walls of color fill the senses

with awe and wonder of the man

from a child to death we move through your life

corridors rich with your gifted touch,

haunted in a sense with a wink and a twirl

of the stache that wove the face,

that became the artist’s image

even when no longer present.

Swirling pieces blow the mind

as collages draw us in deeper to find

the whimsy and imagination of a mind

inspired to change,

to create the masterpiece

as time melted on tables

and angels came near,

you look over your shoulder as if to say,

come, stay awhile and see

what dreams can create

and the hand that drew the world

as only he could.

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“Surrealism is destructive, but it destroys only what it considers to be shackles limiting our vision” Salvador Dali

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Spent the afternoon at the Salvador Dali Museum in Saint Petersburg. What an amazing collection and fascinating man and artist. Simply in awe. WOW! All photos taken by me…sorry for some blurriness….a busy place.

Pieces of mind

The stars that fell from the skies
Living upon the hill of my mind,
meandering through,
no purpose in the practice
just to let it be
moving through color
little here and there
images I see somewhere within
falling in drops on paper.
Not the best
not the worst
been so long since I’ve been here
sunlight beyond
and the solitary whispers call
to let it be.
Feels so very good
a lazy day to set free
words and paint and just a little
piece of the mind layed down
takng shape and form
when enough is enough
for now
there will come later
additions and subtractions
of just tuck it away in the stack
of moments spent here,
glass table and waterdrops
and sunlight to keep company,
stand up and walk away
to other needs and tasks,
knowing I will return
to the moon on the hills
searching for the stars that fell
somewhere beyond space and time.

Finally carving out a few hours to practice my watercolors, not the best but just a reminder that practice will bring more talent. Hubbys birthday today finds him out fishing at the jetty, dinner out tonight and time for me to play with my paints too, priceless indeed. The song “please come to Boston” was in my head when I concocted this piece….still looking for the stars, how typical for me, hmmm?
peace and blessings and happy hump day, and a happy birthday to my love๐Ÿ’œ๐ŸŽจ๐ŸŒ ๐ŸŒŒ

Kings and Queens

Brick by borrowed brick

transplanted across the sea

beside the water blue to reside

two fast years created

theirs a labor of love,

King and Queen reach their dream.

Endless days of guests and stars

moonlight dancing on marble floors

terrace to view the setting sun

and long gone voices hang like ghosts

for the glory days before it all fell apart.

Tattered and torn the decay moves in,

pastel windows caked with salt and grime

restored to their throne,

the house rises once more

a sight for the willing to pay the price

at a glance into the lifestyles then

and emerging in the air when done

enraptured by the beauty found

in history.

John and Mabel Ringlings dream mansion built on the bay in Sarasota, named C’a d’Zan (venetian dialect for house of John), we did the lower level tour of the beautiful house, which for a while had been in disrepair and finally turned over to the University and Sarasota, now restored with most of the original furnishings. The windows are shades of purple, blue, yellow and pink and the view and terrace behind the mansion are to me, spectacular. My dream home….hahaha…..yep, I’m kind of funny that way, I know. I wish it were my house….although way too much to clean for just the hubby and me, but the hounds would have a field day running through it ๐Ÿ™‚

This house was also the backdrop for the movie Great Expectations:

http://www.flamingomag.com/2017/03/01/ringling-ca-dzan/

Colors of life

By the sea

hues find me with eagerness

filling in the blanks with drops

captured image on cotton of white,

creation of beauty

sweeping me away

the boundaries I try to stay within.

Tie-dye shell of my hearts whimsy

I close my eyes and see the scene

a hundred souls running towards the sea

free from the shell

bliss in being alive,

we swim into the unknown

taking chances and learning with each stroke

how to swim in waves of colors unknown.

I hear the sound of waves from memory,

sweeping me over their frothy waves

and carrying me towards the setting sun

low on horizon

the internal compass knows the way

as I follow the stars

as I may.

My last art class for now, a sea turtle with an amazing group of women and although I do need a bit of touch up on the eye where the splatter got a bit too close (had to rush to work and should have taken the extra minute of care) I am quite happy with this almost finished product and thought I’d share. Happy turtles make me smile ๐Ÿ™‚ peace and blessings, K

this and that

Wet on wet

color thrown about like random thoughts

little here and little there

a bit of this and that.

Salt falls on puddles random like rain

and we never know in the end

what will remain of our pieces of self

washing back and forth

steady movement forming rainbows of peace

and I gaze to the jasmine beyond

knowing it’s one step closer to understanding

and life will keep moving

like wet paint on soft cotton,

smooth and flowing

or beautiful in the accidental splash

of a word cast on the world,

it all falls down as we let ourselves go

to flow into the rhythm

of another hour passed by

unaware of it all

except the here and now.

More time today practicing with my watercolors, I’m thinking I may turn into the tie dye queen of art yet ๐Ÿ™‚ but loving it and always learning with each stroke, surprised at times by what comes from a blank slate.

Painting life

Colors caught in a favorite pose,

moonlit skies on clouds it rests

caught like a marble suspended

I learn to flow through the brush.

Where I’ve been on quiet days

pondering the landscape of sun and haze

mixing and matching the color to mood

purple sky hue.

This is my first official watercolor painting, still in progress (mostly working the water) and I was actually quite pleased with the results, which for me is saying a lot. Just in case you’ve been wondering where I’ve been, one more class next week and practice, practice and more practice needed. Moon over water….by me.

One at a time

I counted them all,

slowly savoring the moment in my fear

of not getting to the end,

of leaving one forgotten behind.

This is what had to be done,

seeing the images that left my thoughts jumbled

like graffiti images on walls

wondering whose hand did create,

what pain was felt when the slashes erupted

in spray painted skylines of wonder,

whose soul could feel this deeply

and were they just another number I counted

on infinite hands.

Could I be as he or she,

living in this bottle contained of joy and peace,

carefully sprinkled like stars on the heavens

and dusting the earth with an Oz-like magic,

could I invoke that smile through tears,

when hope seemed like the midnight sky

letting no light in through steeled clouds,

I still counted them all for I could see

behind the curtain there lay

another like me,

and another and like Pi

going on and forward forever without end,

could I too grasp the immense constellation

of this thing we know as love

and acceptance,

and the glow of warmth filled as I asked

and I knew the sensation of falling into it all,

lost in this pillow of a thousand feathers

and buoyed by the collective

of the universe together

holding hands to catch me as I fell.

When there are no words to describe

the flight of a million blackbirds in the sky,

dotting the blue with such beauty

turning the sun into a speckled yellow robins egg,

cracking the sky open as they dive and soar

I stand in awe some days

by these things I’ve seen

and these feelings that drift through,

I count them all,

for they are all so important

to my heart,

to remember

for when I no longer can

I hope to know once upon a time perhaps I had.

 

Watercolor world

Dripping from the palette

this watercolor world slowly blending

into colors of the emotion

coming together in beautiful unison,

an artists touch of thoughts

expressed on parchment weathered,

her life unfolded through her memory

captured and hung

a moment of her life

movement bleeding from pigment.

Changes in hues of yellows to blues

roots grown in deep so strong

yet the sense of floating amidst the falling

and being a part of the view

as the wetness dries becoming

a dash of echoes broken yet together still,

and how I longed to be the hand

that held the portal to create

the majestic find of a universal truth.

Beautiful art: Anna Armona Watercolor Painting