Night skies

Streaking past eyes
Perpetually watching
streaking stars race through
dust of the night things
glittering like diamonds.
Purple reigns in her mind
time flying past
out of sight
and the mind soothed
as the color flows
mid spring skies awaken
with the coming of dawn
just another star that fell
on distant lands
in a universe high.

My second art piece created today, practicing with the sea salt in the sky, and masking fluid meteors flying by….having fun, another working day, heigh ho….and off I go.

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.

Silver lined

Days filled to overflowing

ocean water blue-green cascading around my legs

cool wetness soothing the spirit

just being at one.

Waiting in line noticing the color

pastries lined on silver trays

as the old man ahead decides

wearily leaning on the worn cane

hands thick with worn veins

confusion in his lost blue eyes

she orders for his decision cannot be made

in a timely pace she moves him aside

cast off like a sinking ship

his eyes look down as he shuffles away.

I wonder then, staring at the hues of bread,

when was it last that he felt the ocean

caress his weary soul,

and does he dream of silver lined clouds

his youth so far away

and I know I too shall someday pass into the space

where he resides in slow motion,

and I exit through glass to see the gathering clouds,

gently waiting in a blue sky,

and I know there must be a silver lined thought

waiting there for me to reach

to grasp it firm and hang on,

to fly in the atmosphere of the young,

to remember the importance

before it fades to grey.

I’ve been practicing my artwork again and a friend requested to see a bit of what I’ve been dabbling in. The clouds are with my new indigo waterpaint and the collection below if a little of what we’ve been working on in class……and miles to go before I am any good, but damn, so glad I am blessed to see the colors, not only in the paints but in this life. Spent the morning in the ocean, walking for an hour with hubby and collecting more sharks teeth and “just being”, it had been far too long and the ocean was calm and I am in a good space. Peace and love, K

fullsizeoutput_488.jpeg

Fluid by nature

Caught in the drifting flow

melting moons of a mind moving

once more and again our nature

drives the melting like chocolate on asphalt

standing in puddles

fluid by nature.

Everywhere and nowhere

alert to the motion of light happening

sitting on the sidelines like a voyeur at a parade,

same old same old

when nothing changes the Einstein factor

insanity will reign.

Caught in the warp of the everyday

watching dogs pace after the power line bandits

teetering on the brink of understanding that it is

what it is

and isms and schisms can whisper their words

falling on deaf ears and eyes that can only see

what is known,

a melting moon can and will happen

cause the Google monster tells us so,

check it out and know

like an artists painting of dripping moments

the brush will wash clean

clocks and the timekeepers at the gate

when anything is possible and will

when given the chance,

happen as it will-

written in time yet still as of yet undiscovered

the crazies will find the asylum a welcome retreat

from the normal that has become

the everyday.

I see the sliver hanging on the invisible string,

just a piece of its former self,

because the heat will bear down

filling in the cracks and crevices

where only tiny seeds will survive

and names will elude the mind that tires

but the mustache will stand strong

of the Dali’s of this world

for they see what others can only sense

as it all drips quietly away.

Just my mind, lost in an artists moment…..tired and ready for a soft pillow.

Painting life

Blending the colors just so

creating the perfect shade to suit the soul

adding a little of this

a little of that,

testing to ensure proper hue.

Like life  if applied too heavily

easily thinned out a bit as the hand moves,

delicate curves to add shade and dimension

a little dilution to achieve the effect desired.

To be content in knowing we can go back

correct the mistake gently

easing the lines into a quiet blend

like a sentence spoken through silence,

the perfect specimen found through diligence,

patience and harmony in each stroke

I see this creation like life in its own way,

always changing

like mood that can be softened with the right touch,

as the water moves the mark across the cotton

I see what I feel

was a calm and quiet peace.

Day number two of my watercolor class and I found time disappearing as I lost myself in practicing the techniques taught, creating the perfect shade I wanted and leaving with my mind lost in a quiet place, pondering the sun upon me as I drove away and just enjoying the moment and happy for the lesson. Peace and blessings, K

Shades of gray

Paper mache thoughts
staircase of memory moving in skies of the mind,
he cuts out the stars they say
building his universe piece by piece,
and hanging the brightest
slightly shrouded in mystery
behind a veil of emotion.
Water winds its way through to find
his toes cautiously testing to find
hot or cold
as he leaves the ripples behind
he watches them undulate into
the common answering wave,
as they slip together along the seam
becoming one they move
in and out from source.
He paints to live
in this world of pain,
wracked by unanswered questions,
he knows where his sail is moving
as he coasts along in the playground of mind,
cutting shapes
he puts them together like his worries on a shelf,
one at a time he stares at them all,
knowing it feels like never enough-
he looks for the guiding star he had lost
to find it resting quietly waiting
where he had always left it,
tucked into the heart.

Yellow

I needed to be yellow,

caught in the place between sun and flowers

where the butterflies flit lightly

and care is just a word whispered on air.

I needed to be saffron,

scented addition of things beyond reach,

gathered together like something beautiful

filling the air with want and hunger.

I needed to be the point

where all things meet like sharp petals

reaching into the sky for nourishment,

soaking in the warmth of a new day.

I was dancing in fields of time

nothing meant anything

just the here and now and the reaching,

the endless stretch towards the sky

where I longed to fly like the yellow bird

that returns after the harsh ice of winter abates

and the feeder waiting like a gift

to abate the hunger built

by the endless search

for fulfillment in the movement

from there to here,

returning once more to land

where I began.

Image-Fields of Innocence -Sargam Griffin

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

Angels

Who belongs to the hand that carves the angels

into the cold stone of nothingness

beauty created smooth and serene

touched by the gift of ages.

Eyes that see where nothing sits

etched piece by piece from marble

bringing forth the creation of an angel

never meant to fly free.

Does she sit pondering her moments

as those who pass by reach out to touch

her silent face that cannot cry

for remembrance is her gift,

partake upon passing

to never forget who lay at her feet.

Souls without face and only a name

perhaps a year or day

never why they could not stay

but to gift with the angel for the balance

she rests sadly by,

until years pass and no one recalls

why and who,

she will still continue to touch

and inspire images to signify her being,

the gift of those who loved

once upon a time.

For some reason when I saw this image, the song from Annie Lennox kept playing in my head so thought I would share the words that won’t let me rest until I put them out there. One of my favorite songs from her, Youtube it if you’d like. It is beautiful indeed.

“Dying is easy
It’s living that scares me to death
I could be so content
Hearing the sound of your breath

Cold is the color of crystal the snow light
That falls from the heavenly skies
Catch me and let me dive under
For I want to swim in the pools of your eyes”   Annie Lennox-Cold