Coffee brewing, bacon frying, my grandmother’s peach cobbler. Fire. All familiar scents that once woke me from sleep. Little did I know until now of the ethereal smell of intensity, an aroma I’ve grown to love more than all the others because it not only wakes me from sleep but also from the darkness.
“…Even in the shadows…”
~ Beyonce Knowles / Ryan Tedder / Terius Nash
12 “What do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? 13 And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off. 14 In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should perish.
~ Matthew 18:12-14
Dear Endy, Something unnamed implores me to think on you, write to you and dream upon you because last we spoke you mentioned we were at a disadvantage in not being able to recreate the moments we shared.
“Look—my feet don’t hit the marble!
Like breath or a balloon, I’m rising,
I hover six inches in the air
in my blazing swan-egg of light.
You think I’m not a goddess?
This is a torch song.
Touch me and you’ll burn.”
~ Margaret Atwood
“… and at night I love to listen to the stars. It is like five
hundred million little bells…”
~ The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint−Exupery
Nothing is ever considered a problem until it encroaches on those closest to you because we tend not to look for the blemish in the mirror until someone else points it out.
What are you listening for? The sound of bullets, horses and roses all sound the same depending on which end of the barrel you’re focused on.
“Beloved, I pray that in all respects you may prosper and be in good health, just as your soul prospers.”
3 John 1:2
What do you see when you study the girl in the photo?
“How did Nathan die?” Mom had been sleeping soundly and was awoken by that question asked by her daughter. Her eyes fluttered open taking a moment to focus on her daughter’s unkempt hair and eyes still full of sleep because she’d just awoken too.
“Impermanence” Standing with my towel wrapped around my waist I faced the mirror and read the word I’d written in the fog the prior day. Each day I wrote a new word, sometimes for myself and sometimes for the child entering behind me. This word was for me.
She has one friend in the traditional sense, the gal she went to high school with. She doesn’t really consider anyone else a friend unless you count that guy she’s still in love with cause she does but this world and reality suggests you might not agree.
“What’s your best guess?” asked the instructor. She didn’t think it was a fair question because he wasn’t looking for the truth. He was looking for the pre-populated answer in their textbooks so she put her head down as the students near her raised their hands.
“You want me to retool?” she asked her Father. Silence. She was greeted with silence. “Retool?” she thought to herself.
“Let no one change your tone or the colors you choose for life flight” ~ V
When he woke up in the morning he kept his eyes closed while sitting up in bed and swinging his legs over the side. He sat like silently that for ten minutes. His back was straight and his breathing was slow. After that ten minutes he opened his eyes and stood up shaking his wrists…
BOB DIAMOND: “Did you ever have friends whose stomach hurt?” DAN MILLER: “Every one of them.”
He ran into the science lab grabbing every beaker in the supply room before running to the fridge and grabbing all diseased Petri dishes.
Welcome to Love Bubble Studio!
We stood under the bridge, me admiring the beauty and wondering where the homeless people were because we were surely in the most calming and scenic under the bridge location in all the land. In childish excitement she began throwing seeds everywhere; in holes, atop leaves, beneath rocks, into the stream and finally upon the…
It is always the hope that we are taking time to breathe in deeply to inhale the love that can’t help but surround the air we live in.
When I think of him it’s easy to write. It’s because he is everywhere such that I find inspiration in every part inside of me and all the parts scattered. Outside.
“…I am here, You are there… Together…”
– Katie Woodward
“If I had nothing to give, how much effort would you expend to continue pouring love into me?” she asked.
Designing and drawing petticoats was my first project in art class and one technique that worked very well for me was to orientate the clothing upside down and move forward wrong side up. It helped to focus my perspective so well that I attempted to use the same technique in other subjects and later on…
Carrying children on our backs is not only visual art but reality…
“The mothers scar is the child’s wound that fades along her skin but does not heal the child’s heart until becoming scarred in manhood his pain bleeds into the womb of love where he returns to the origin of his healing”
~ V a l I d a r i o u
In lieu of a candied white van lure he knocked on my door with a basket of fruit so I invited him in and offered to be his seat before asking for a lighter to match the orange juice dripping from my syrupy grand marnier lips.
Awareness is written inside the heart When, Why and Where do not co-exist
“There is nothing the body suffers which the soul may not profit by.”
~ George Meredith
“You ask others to believe but do you believe? Before you answer can you see or admit you still look out the window? What do you see and what are you scared of?” she thought these questions to herself and more before she’d left the bed to start the day.
Summer was nearly over and I’d tuned my pocketbook To advertisements of Buy One, Get One Free To the buy low, sell high, mark it higher game
“To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.”
– William Blake
“Do you want to know why you are beautiful?” he asked.
It is time to prepare dinner but I’m tired and the children have digitally shape-shifted Though admittedly I’m not far behind
Towering in plain siteIt hid behind vinesWalls stained with rainStanding proud and fearless
My mind presented me with several options then asked me to choose one so I visualized myself standing in a dark cave poised to exit but with those options standing before me as people, each holding out their arm Vanna White style towards the exit which appeared as a ring of light. From my vantage…
“He was a dirty dog like the rest of them,” Ankita said angrily to her Aunt Aurora.
In 2017 a group of teachers from an elementary school in California distributed one envelope to each of their students at the school’s weekly assembly where the principal took the stage to challenge them to a game of “Friday Flambé” in conclusion of Speak Kindness Week.