Tag Archives: art

what do we do with our gifts?

29 Jun



hope and fire



Excuses, excuses:  the mantle is tall; I am a bit small as humans go, and i am not able to capture the true beauty I see in these paintings with my camera.

Do you love them?  Hope and Fire?  – unbounded gifts from Benjamin Prewitt, my friend.  I hardly imagined they would actually arrive, and when they did, i  went a bit out of body.  All seemed like a game.   I played along and here we are.   An earlier version of myself would have said…thank you so very much for the offer, but I couldn’t possibly accept.  Am I  flowering in the moment of now with blessings on my head  – saying YES, AND… to whatever crosses my trail?

Benjamin’s paintings stir the nameless within, his words touch the heart, and the accounting of his walk with PD stiffens my resolve daily .  The colors, composition and textures alone would be enough, Dayenu, but the archetypal themes, abstractions, divine feminine and humor –  all roll into a happening.

Is there time to express ourselves in these little life spans?  What are the gifts we are given?  How do we flow with the gifts, allowing them to develop and express, and still survive?  I know a million people who have swallowed whole the person they wish they could be.  I have walked (and perhaps still do, at times) hiding my light under layers of shame.  I’m embarrassed at times to even be a human being – when I forget who I really am.

Finally I got to a place, I could not go on – living to die – walking slowly not as me at all toward the next thing to dread, dislike, get through.  I’ve been there.  I remember the way that felt.  Sometimes from a single thought  which I might grab hold of as it flies by, I will be sucked down into the dank…who are you to do anything? – there are always better than you – why bother?

In this process of  forgetting and remembering, somehow the eyes get ignited with an accelerant, the shine comes out from within, and the soul laughs and says I don’t give a damn what car you rented for this journey – lets go out for a joy ride and spread our candied smiles and whoops of joy out the windows as we go by – let’s get out that pen, that pad, that paint, that flute, let’s dance down the aisles of familiar chores, let’s sing to the bank teller, let us drop our dirty shame blanket and shimmy!

People have gifts and the sharing of these gifts seems knife on bone close to the whole point of what we are doing here.  I cry at recitals, I am touched by effort – I am blown away to be here – receiving – alive with the wish to create and return.

Tangible joy makes me wanna pick up a Ukulele!

A thank you wholly inadaquate to Benjamin Prewitt – awakening me again this week in ever growing ways to the joy of being alive.

The Canvas is Everything; The Paint is Whatever You Can Find

26 Dec

We are visiting my parents in Georgia.  Yesterday while Chloe read The Great Gatsby for school, Eden and I found the concrete basement wall in the ping pong room to be our Canvas.

fullwall christmasday

The room was full of music from Eden’s Pandora station, snacks were brought by supportive grands, and we felt the freedom of no mistakes, no problems; being humans with paintbrushes is a blessed thing.


basementflowers1Lots more to go, of course.

“Spiritual love is a position of standing with one hand extended into the universe and one hand extended into the world, letting ourselves be a conduit for passing energy.”  Christina Baldwin

At 46, I’m the assistant to the great energy running through this girl.  This morning she is on to writing a play and wants help with that…I’m happy to observe, support, allow whatever energies are coming through.

I am learning much about the spiritual connection of humans and making things from my daughters, but also from this path walking friend.  From the way M presents her food, to her beautiful creations, to the words and art she puts together, to the possessions she chooses to keep, to her human interactions… divinity is expressed through this vessel!  This insight then helps me see the divine in all of those around me, in their unique expressions and creations with the matter and form given to us like play dough in this kindergarten world of ours.

The arena of creativity was one of the first places I experienced the no time of the present moment.  And learned that the end result is not the point at all, the process is the dance:)

Also, a broad and messy thank you to whomever stumbles here and to those on whose blogs I’ve stumbled…Grateful for the dance we are all sharing here in this corner together.  Namaste.

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