When I open my eyes,
am I praying?
When I focus my words,
am I seeing?
When I listen within,
am I opening?
What do I have
to lose?
Where It Is
I came to a place in the road
with trees in the moon
and without a glance backward,
I hung my heart in the trees.
Macro-monial Bliss
I got a new lens today. It is my first one since buying my special camera.
I knew it was “the one” at first sight.
This lens laughs at all my puns. We are very happy together!
PS: we are not registered anywhere, but cash gifts are welcome. We are saving to have a LensBaby.
You Pour
It takes two to tea in a civilized way. One to inquire, “How sweet? Or sour? Light or dark?” In other words, to want to know the little details, and perform them just so.
The other answers truthfully, “Just milk, for me, if you please.” “I take mine with lemon, but sugar, no.” “Black is fine, make that one mine, since you asked, thank you!”
Just a few little questions, curiosity and warmth – revealing our worlds, back and forth, over tea.
Heres and Theres
In the twinkling of an eye, my habit of lunchtime blogging has vanished, replaced by scurrying to dress giant Barbie dolls on photo sets exiled far, far away from the reach of wi-fi. I’m afraid this picture isn’t much of a reward for your visit, since the re-workings at work have drained my tank so thoroughly, there’s no gas left to spark my creativity and photography on the weekends.
This ball of thread is just as I found it, imperfect rewindings overlapping the pristine criss-crosses formed the day it was made, telling the story of a project begun and unfinished, perhaps. Its core remains unexposed. A spool like this is full of contradictions – you only find the emptiness at the center core by using it up completely, reconstituting the perfection of machines into the imperfectable and priceless work of hands.
And if that isn’t a metaphor for the life I live – popping dozens of tops and pants and boxer shorts onto mannequins, luring innocent human beings into imagining themselves somehow improved by wearing the output of factories wherein our brothers and sisters toil – then I don’t understand what a metaphor is.
Always Violets
The day starts out hopeful, but it doesn’t take long. Pretty soon, the camera system breaks, and no one knows why. Once we can make images, the software exports them to a black hole of its own choosing. We have to launch a search and rescue mission for what little work we’ve done. Cheerfully, an assistant wheels over a third cart full of work for me to complete today, even though I already have 2 carts, labelled “1 of 2,” and “2 of 2.” I ask out loud, “Why would I wonder if there was a third cart?” and bless this thoughtful person who has saved me from a very bad mistake. It takes a lot of effort to squeeze a completed capture out of the infrastructure.
This picture was a pretty lazy gesture. It’s only ribbon violets, balanced on a hanger draped with lace, all from my grandmother’s belongings. I didn’t try very hard, and I don’t really know if any magic happened. That’s for you to decide. All the struggle came in the days when I wasn’t making anything. That’s really work. Remembering those days makes me want to sit down and have a cup of coffee. The rest of what I do is just how I keep myself from remembering.
EmptyLaces
“I’ve been rich and I’ve been poor. Believe me, rich is better.”
attributed to Sophie Tucker
“I’ve been depressed and I’ve been not depressed. Believe me, not depressed is better.”
attributed to Brenna Hopkins
I guess it’s mostly good news.
One sunny week – in fact, a sunny week just 2 weeks ago – I realized my depression had returned, and not in a polite, “Excuse me,” sort of way, but in more of a jagged teeth, and “Doesn’t your heart and soul look tasty?” sort of way. As I write this, I realize, I do see depression as a kind of predator, stalking the thoughts you don’t want to think, turning them into thoughts you can’t think or else…
When I heard myself thinking the thoughts of depression, and felt myself gulping against the pain of depression, I was surprised. Surprised by fury, and swiftness, and stealth with which it had stolen my mind. Yeah, the stealth. I had realized my emotions were stirred up, but honestly, I was lulled into overconfidence. “I can do this. I’m not that person anymore.” The good news is, I have gotten used to not feeling depressed. But it turns out, I am that person, still.
Respecting your opponent is a priceless lesson, and one I am grateful with all my heart to have learned, sustaining only minor injuries, mainly to my pride. The scuffle is over, for the most part. The tiger is back in its cage, a little restless but cooperating. The sun is filtering in. I took this picture without thinking about how much it said about the moment I was in. The empty places are always there. It’s how the light is falling on them that matters.
Sunflower Shoes
By the time I found the sunflower field, it was not only late in the day, but late in their life cycle. Stems once as stiff and tall as bamboo saplings curved earthwards, weighted by their precious cargo of seeds forming in the wake of the labor of bees and other pollinators. Shriveled petals shivered in the breeze and sun, like feathers ready to float away. The more I tried to look the sunflowers in their soft brown eyes, the more my own eye grew silent. I wanted simply to stroll along, shoulder to shoulder with these friends. letting them be as they were, absorbing the afternoon warmth. I walked the full length of the field, reaching a small grove of oaks, and turned to look behind me.
From where I stood, their lemony radiance was a total surprise. I had never imagined what I might find behind the sunflowers, facing towards their homing compass. I could see what the sunflowers saw, and together we seemed to be wanting the same thing: to let ourselves be drawn into something warm, to be filled with the mysterious power of light, and to become the Self we are already waiting to find.
Sunflower To-Do
To Do list for Sunflowers:
Nod in a friendly way to all passers-by
Employ countless bumblebees
Shelter Eastern Kingbird, Eastern Bluebird, Eastern Meadowlark, Vesper Sparrow, Clay-colored Sparrow, Sedge Wren, Orchard Oriole and Henslow’s Sparrow
Turn toward the light
Countless Hellos
Like all illusions of infinity – halls of mirrors and oceans come to mind – the more you walk toward an endlessness of sunflowers, the further their vastness slips from your grasp. All you can do is wait. They will come to you.
what is beautiful remains 