Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Where the Bones of Dreams Lay

Originally uploaded by Firespiral Arts.
Tossed as some bag on the wind
the dreams
they fell
and slept so gently quiet
where they lay

Here, too
rests the kiss
of my body
it's full places
through night
after night

And, memory of breath
slumber sweet
and salty
sweat of summer
this place remembers

For all this and more
I slumber here
drop my masks
and bones
and sigh
begin and end here
do the days

Touch My Delicate Shadows...

Originally uploaded by Firespiral Arts.
I spent most of yesterday in the woods. Days like today and yesterday make me realize how fortunate I am to live in New England. I padded along in the pine needles with various canine friends. I had many deep feelings. My feelings and I held hands as walked along gently.

I am feeling some of the Golden Threads of my Life Tapestry pulling away from the fabric, and I am also sensing new colors and textures of friendships weaving their way in. Funny how the cloth of our stories changes and still remains a close dance of weft and weave. I am looking forward to my new friendships, and I am mourning old ones as they find their own way.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Light Attaching...

Originally uploaded by Firespiral Arts.
There is a line in a Counting Crows song about Adam D. studying the way the light attaches to a girl...I think that is what attracts me most about doing nude work. It is not the bodies themselves I want to chronicle nearly as much as the way light attaches to them. It is the play of light and line which draws me.

As a small child I was greatly influenced by the master Yousef Karsh, (who actually came and did a portrait of my grandmother which now hangs in my livingroom). I fondly remember one Easter basket when I was about 7 which included a boxed set of blank greeting cards with the work of Edward Weston. I was thrilled. I splayed them out around me and studied them for hours.

I remember having Eyegasms over Penn's Peonie photographs. I was probably 10.

My father was a business man and an artist. Or, rather, he was an artist who put on the business man's suit and tie and commuted from the Cape to Boston every day to work for a prestigious bank. His first love (other than aviation and skeet) was art, particularly watercolors. He studied Art at Harvard prior to attending Columbia for a business degree.

We used to spend many hours examining the Impressionists, whom he adored, and Sargent, and N. C Wyeth, Andrew Wyeth and others.

I asked him once, if he could learn to paint anything at all Really Well, what would it be? His answer was: A white wall. I have spent most of my life chasing light in one form or another.

My mother worked for Poloroid before she met my father. She, too, has Magpie Syndrome, which makes for a sore neck as one glances from thing to thing, studying the play of light, the dance of line, the song of color.

It was Destiny.

I cannot add to save my life. But, I am a Very Good Friend of Light.

Resting Place...

Originally uploaded by Firespiral Arts.
I go on Block Walks with my camera fairly often. I love to see the way the light hits the familiar surfaces, the way the flowers grow and die, the way the seasons paint themselves on the same canvas year after year. This chair often calls to me. I want to sit down on it, feel the wood beneath my hands, read a good book, rock and breathe in the early fall scents.

We all need resting places. Where are yours?

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Being Different

Being Different
Originally uploaded by Firespiral Arts.
Much of the time I move through this world feeling very different from many of those around me. Sometmes, I am fortunate to find others on my path who, like me, are seeing things from non-traditional perspectives, or who *feel* things differently than most.

I think a lot of people don't *feel* their way around life. I think they *do* their lives. Or *have* them. Being different makes for an evolutionary process that necessitates some deep thinking and deep feeling sometimes.

If I am to be Brutally Honest I will say that I really don't enjoy the company of most people. I have some dear friends, with whom I share history and story...but not much depth. I don't feel so very good around the General Masses of People Out There. I need to shield a lot to keep from getting depleted or bombarded by their negative energy, or Gaping Wounds.

When I find my People, my Tribesfolk, I treasure that connection, no matter how brief. But, much of the time I wander around being a green apple amongst the reds.

I recently met some people who resonated at such a highly compatible frequency to my own that I was absoultely energized after our meeting. The total difference in my energy level was astounding. My heartspaces opened up, my mind was calm and alert and I found myself feeling very much in Communion with People Like Me, and in Communion with Myself as well.

The following weeks were filled with some sense of loss. Like when one comes home from Rites of Spring, or AHO, or some group melding experience.

I love being me.

But I love finding people who can connect and resonate with me easily, and I crave that kind of reciprocal connection sometimes.

Friday, September 16, 2005

Summer Street 2

Summer Street 2
Originally uploaded by Firespiral Arts.

Summer Street 1

Summer Street 1
Originally uploaded by Firespiral Arts.

Summer Street 3

Summer Street 3
Originally uploaded by Firespiral Arts.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

August's Last Rose

Originally uploaded by Firespiral Arts.
This gentle rose was lingering on the stem outside a very old home. I was taken by it's beauty, and tenacity in the heat and rains. September is here, beckoning cooler days and changes of color, but this rose will remain in my memory as a sweet vision of Summer