tiny tiles color my world...thank you Marc Chagall

weight

 I work on extracting my thoughts from my brain.
Carrying false messages.  Dead weight.  Believable.
Sticky.  Messy fingers pulling at silky strings of hurt.
Struggling to sort the welcome from the un.
Writing because I force myself.  Forcing substance into the holes.
Moles holes.  Rabbit den tunnels.  Secret hiding places.  Hiding hell.


You tire easily.  Your flames fanning.  Patience waning. 
In a little while I’ll fall into you and exhale.  Soon.

moved by mosaic

happy new year

to the street people I met in March

on the sunny side of the skyscrapers

who brought me reality bites

while I walked through my fantasy.

happy new beginning

to my soul's lost butterfly

repaired wing no doubt sending her farther than imagination

allowing smiling

introducing potential

one mile at a time

happy new dreams

for the lost boys and girls

walking the thin line

and sitting on that ledge

the one with the cliff and long drop

may their minds clear

and their hearts open

to possibility

of recovery

hope

health

happy new memories

for family

playing on the floor

laughing

sharing

comparing

dependent on siblings and aunts and best friends

for home and hugs and hope

climb up your tree

pick out your leaf

make your mark

remember

happy birthday

little babes wrapped in pink and blue

eat first cake

sleep deeply

shoulder to cheek

rocking your mama awake

and alive

 born free

be

happy home

happy hear and now

happy whistling songs through forested limbs

happy running tails

between seasonal colors

among winds of change

songs in the key of sky

blues faded grey

into white 

listen to nature's tune

swoon

melting melody of seagulls and splash

stand at the edge of sand

catch the waves with your tongue

taste the vastness of God

and universe

deep into the water your ears covered by silence

jump for air

reach, stretch, long for 

life

love

home

happy new fear

knowing thyself before others do

showing yourself the truth

and believing it

flowing on the stream

of meaning and reason

even though your headlights dim and flash every few miles

fear not for you are alive in the world

hold tight to your goals

grip that steering wheel

or shake hands with the devil

face your fears

fear your fears

while you fight and flail

make that basket

hit that home run

salute the crowd

beat the clock

run the race

write the words to open the story

tell the story to feel the pain

feel the fear

embrace the challenge

enter

begin

new

you

just one thing

Recently a friend asked me what I was afraid of, why I'm not opening my heart and "using my gifts" on my blog, like I used to do...Challenge!  

Well he's not too far from right:  I have held back a bit. Since my words to important people in my life, people of my life, people I live for, set off a firestorm of anxiety. Some people are hurt.  Some are helped and some helped me.  Some wonder and watch.  Some question my processes.  Human beings I love, know more me.

I responded with face to face conversations, more truth, and putting my best work back into 'draft' mode.  Why?  To settle what I stirred.  To see what soup I created out of spontaneous epiphany.  To wait for the dust to settle.  To step back and peer through the window.  To talk to my husband instead of write about talking.  To assess my artistic senses with God's lead.  To watch my world through opened eyes.  

Perspective gained.  Respect delivered and received.  Confidence soaring on mended wings and meaning.  I've found and discovered something new each day since I wrote this piece.  Each moment lived with my blessings and family and friends, lived and loved and longed for more.

Here is more of me...just one thing.

 And I want it so bad, it's the first thing I see when I wake~my morning jacket

 

You may or may not have noticed a change in me. I've made a discovery about myself.   I've unwrapped a few layers and found perspective.  My new view.  My eye for the shot and my feel for the words. Talent.  Art. I am artistic. Two hobbies restarted in the past 6 months for the purpose of sorting and compartmentalizing priorities, goals, and next steps...Poof!  These ARE your priorities, goals and next steps. Really?  Who says?  How do you know?  Do you have proof?

They fit me.  I fit into them.  Yes, like a glove.  The feelings of satisfaction and purpose and knowing...priceless and unexpected and warranted.  You may understand this passion for self discovery.  You may understand how you look in your mirror and congratulate yourself.  You may know feeling accomplished because you completed, finished, succeeded, attempted, adhered.  You may have felt satisfaction and pride.  You may know how I feel now.

I am the lighting for my shot.  I am the thesis for my essay.  My fingers unconsciously moving across the keyboard produce comprehension.  My eyes hunt and search for composition among the mundane.  Naturally talented, gifted, surprised.

And I have proof.  This is not random thought trying to fit into specific challenge.  This is not a whim suggested by behavior of another.  I did not choose these creative expressions.  They chose me.  God chose me.  I accept my gifts and promise to handle them with care.  Thank you.

So now what?  Where to go, where to take my writing and shooting?  How do I use them for the greater good?  Funny how the expression, "starving artist" keeps popping into my mind.  Making money from my recently found completeness may be difficult or unnecessary.  Maybe my talents are not meant for production.  Maybe I should be shooting and writing to spread the word, the news, to educate, initiate, expedite.  This is not all about me.  It's bigger than me.

I am filling with spirit and my soul is awakening. I've worked at nothing purposely.  My work, my creative work, is my purpose.  My meaning.  ME.  I feel defined for the first time ever.  Not labeled with the role I must play or the line I should walk.  I feel discovered and highlighted and glowing.  The cracks of my years are aligning into a supportive foundation.  Goodbye fog, hello structure.  My structure.  This crashing force, energized by fresh purpose, keeps me breathing.  Breathing easier now.  Breathing the breath of my future.

My entire life has been a search party for this very day.  My day of unconditional love and honest acceptance.  My day to prove to family and friends, past and present, that I can do it.  Not just say I can.  Mean I can.  BE I can.  This unconditionality does not originate from the love of a human being as I believed it always would.  Should.  No, this brand spankin' new confidence, joy and longing, grows from within myself.  My soul and mind have enmeshed into a shining colorful aura and has settled peacefully into the chambers of my heart, the recesses of my skin, and rides gently the rapids of every breath I take.

I don't want this feeling to end.  Rough, raw, and rare with a sprinkle of humility.

People who know me and my search history, may think my methods have been haphazardly conducted.   I had to follow the threads, no matter where they went, as long as I felt loved along the way.  Acceptance by proxy.  Patterns formed and habits stuck.  Four decades makes marks and leaves scars and develops self reputation.  Self labels are applied and the consequences are invisibly damaging.  Beliefs form out of fragments of behavior, theirs and mine.  Settling comes with the territory of balance.  Expression dims as necessary and whole pieces break off the core.  My core.  My wishes and dreams.  My wants and needs.  My self, my being, my id and ego.  Cracking up and cracking open.  Investigations initiated and specialists referred.  We can rebuild her.  

Writing sporadically I soothed demons.  Shooting infrequently, I shared love.  Sparks not strong enough to create fire yet.  Keep rubbing those sticks together...you'll get it eventually.  Don't give up.  Keep trying.  You can do it.  Do what?

I don't want to list the ventures, a-ha moments, or sure things that strung me together over the years.  Sacrifices were made for my eventual success and martyrs wait patiently for their reward.  Here it is.  This is it.  I have found what I've been looking for.  I am ready to continue to self-nurture my strengths.  For the first time.  For the last time.  For now.  No more looking.  No more wonder.  This is my talent, my being, my core.  Nice to meet you.

'I see YOU'

my friend @ Mainland Streel has a 30 day challenge of blog prompts...

here's one of my offerings for day 11

a photo of myself, taken recently

(you may have seen this one already)

Chicago
my kinda town
city life
man's making
God's coast
God's people
with and without homes
or names
or numbers on plastic cards
people I talk to
smile with

one man sings to me
makes me laugh
outside the art house
under the lions
on route 66
just up the street
the famous street
named after my favorite
Michigan
my home
he has none

up the street
down the avenue
under the L tracks
above the clouds
inside the window
around the corner
bakery

hidden gems
city sanctuary
shiny sparks
dull dust on the thrift store shelves
black and white framed precisely
 sun stoked brick
bursting freckles
swift steps stalking the shot
one posed, one not
Linclon Park
Paulina
saturday swoon
walked way past noon
 
my home here
and there
and wherever I roam
city or country
I am the mouse
muse
meant for

 music and beauty and sweet smells and sounds
visions of grace and greed and grime
arousing suspicions
reflecting red white and blue
for you
with or without a job
flying high and expecting higher
on the seventh day
scraping the clear sky
 waving at the little people
 below
 with or without homes
the silence of history surrounds
Sunday

alas, the artists speak
in the bulls eye of business
Chagall, Calder, Picasso
mosaic of millions
great orange bird bending
face the music
on public property

see the sights
touch the steel

assess each angle

wonder what he was thinking
feeling and saying
about the people passing
 staring
 loving and learning
 ignoring and inspiring
 taking for granted
 and granting permission
providing purpose
 of puzzle pieces fitting
 where they weren't allowed before
 of childrens' eyes affected
 by their internal light
 never lost
 always found and flourishing
 art

 raindrops and river
rushing to meet the train station
 last minute focus
 last looks
someone else's photography
inside someone's former library
on the famously named street
where I met the man
with no home

full circle
three days
one person
hundreds of views
thousands of thoughts
memories amassed
purpose
point
direction
intention
meaning
of life
in
God's city

tears of a clown

I wrote this piece a few weeks ago, after my weekend city shoot in Chicago.  "Four Seasons" is an outdoor mosaic created by artist Marc Chagall.  His work stands proudly on a plaza among the historic business district of the south Loop.  When you next visit Chicago, please find this oasis among the steel and brick and business.

I cried while looking at the Chagall.  They just started, filled my wide open eyes.  Sitting alone in the middle of giants, beauty beyond any expectation.  I wept and felt relief. The pigeons kept me company and the sound was unbearably quiet.  Or maybe I tuned out everything that wasn't on those tiles.  The colors spoke to me, all randomly ordered.  The scenes and suns pulled me closer.  After walking the perimeter twice, I knew where to find Marc Chagall's six signatures.  I shot all six. Shot every wall, every angle, every sun in every scene.  A Sunday morning oasis where I recognized hope.  Walking away felt uneasy.  Looking back through damp eyes, I promised my return.

My mind and heart don't line up on the same plane as they did last week.  Chicago changed everything.  I changed.  I chose and I changed.  Walking alone but with my camera, my other eye, and meeting whatever I wanted to shoot.  Choices belonged to me alone.  Each one wrapped in me.  Wrapped with my freedom, security, knowing.  Passion fires burning for three days.  Passion for pursuit.  Pursuing my future one minute at a time.  One shot plus one more plus the next one.  All lining up for me, because of me, in spite of me.  When I look into my new mirror I see through the viewfinder.  The camera fits me.  I am the camera.  

And how do I move from this intersection of reality?  Remains to be seen is creeping closer.   Feels like the first time and feels like forever.  Life is never boring and I like it.  Building my puzzle is challenging, especially when I find new pieces so often.  Is God trying to tell me that I am running out of time?  You and I both know the answer to that one.  Life is now.

Since I posted my chi-town pics, 4 more people have clicked my blog follow button and many compliments have been sent my way.  Never have I been validated like this.  I'm an amateur.  My talent is raw.  I'm flattered and overwhelmed.  I feel like I'm in a dream sequence where all that was status quo is suddenly dropped upside down and shattered into millions of pieces.

I'm not a strong-willed personality.  I need people to prop me.  That's how I'm built.  At 43 years old with two giant passions overtaking my daily sensibilities, I need to share and see my fire spark more.  I need to-know-me-is-to-love-me.  The gloves off and the cards laid on the table.  The benefit of the doubt.  The trust.  My blog has been good for me, and I  keep shooting, and transforming.  With each click of the keyboard and each snap of the shutter, I move away from the fork in my road and away from empty.  I'm filling up.  finally.    

thursday morning thoughts

 
So no matter what happens to us externally, internally we have a huge well of grace, courage and wisdom that allows us to accept where we are, embrace who we are and not want to be anywhere else, this, my friend, is Living Happier.

 ~Live Happier.: Random Thoughts on Happiness

another piece of Marc Chagall's

chicago mosaic

1972

just one thing (the hidden draft)

And I want it so bad, it's the first thing I see when I wake~my morning jacket

 

You may or may not have noticed a change in me. I've made a discovery about myself.   I've unwrapped a few layers and found perspective.  My new view.  My eye for the shot and my feel for the words. Talent.  Art. I am artistic. Two hobbies restarted in the past 6 months for the purpose of sorting and compartmentalizing priorities, goals, and next steps...Poof!  These ARE your priorities, goals and next steps. Really?  Who says?  How do you know?  Do you have proof?

They fit me.  I fit into them.  Yes, like a glove.  The feelings of satisfaction and purpose and knowing...priceless and unexpected and warranted.  You may understand this passion for self discovery.  You may understand how you look in your mirror and congratulate yourself.  You may know feeling accomplished because you completed, finished, succeeded, attempted, adhered.  You may have felt satisfaction and pride.  You may know how I feel now.

I am the lighting for my shot.  I am the thesis for my essay.  My fingers unconsciously moving across the keyboard produce comprehension.  My eyes hunt and search for composition among the mundane.  Naturally talented, gifted, surprised.

And I have proof.  This is not random thought trying to fit into specific challenge.  This is not a whim suggested by behavior of another.  I did not choose these creative expressions.  They chose me.  God chose me.  I accept my gifts and promise to handle them with care.  Thank you.

So now what?  Where to go, where to take my writing and shooting?  How do I use them for the greater good?  Funny how the expression, "starving artist" keeps popping into my mind.  Making money from my recently found completeness may be difficult or unnecessary.  Maybe my talents are not meant for production.  Maybe I should be shooting and writing to spread the word, the news, to educate, initiate, expedite.  This is not all about me.  It's bigger than me.

I am filling with spirit and my soul is awakening. I've worked at nothing purposely.  My work, my creative work, is my purpose.  My meaning.  ME.  I feel defined for the first time ever.  Not labeled with the role I must play or the line I should walk.  I feel discovered and highlighted and glowing.  The cracks of my years are aligning into a supportive foundation.  Goodbye fog, hello structure.  My structure.  This crashing force, energized by fresh purpose, keeps me breathing.  Breathing easier now.  Breathing the breath of my future.

My entire life has been a search party for this very day.  My day of unconditional love and honest acceptance.  My day to prove to family and friends, past and present, that I can do it.  Not just say I can.  Mean I can.  BE I can.  This unconditionality does not originate from the love of a human being as I believed it always would.  Should.  No, this brand spankin' new confidence, joy and longing, grows from within myself.  My soul and mind have enmeshed into a shining colorful aura and has settled peacefully into the chambers of my heart, the recesses of my skin, and rides gently the rapids of every breath I take.

I don't want this feeling to end.  Rough, raw, and rare with a sprinkle of humility.

People who know me and my search history, may think my methods have been haphazardly conducted.   I had to follow the threads, no matter where they went, as long as I felt loved along the way.  Acceptance by proxy.  Patterns formed and habits stuck.  Four decades makes marks and leaves scars and develops self reputation.  Self labels are applied and the consequences are invisibly damaging.  Beliefs form out of fragments of behavior, theirs and mine.  Settling comes with the territory of balance.  Expression dims as necessary and whole pieces break off the core.  My core.  My wishes and dreams.  My wants and needs.  My self, my being, my id and ego.  Cracking up and cracking open.  Investigations initiated and specialists referred.  We can rebuild her.  

Writing sporadically I soothed demons.  Shooting infrequently, I shared love.  Sparks not strong enough to create fire yet.  Keep rubbing those sticks together...you'll get it eventually.  Don't give up.  Keep trying.  You can do it.  Do what?

I don't want to list the ventures, a-ha moments, or sure things that strung me together over the years.  Sacrifices were made for my eventual success and martyrs wait patiently for their reward.  Here it is.  This is it.  I have found what I've been looking for.  I am ready to continue to self-nurture my strengths.  For the first time.  For the last time.  For now.  No more looking.  No more wonder.  This is my talent, my being, my core.  Nice to meet you.

kudos, shout-outs, and awards, oh my!

Overwhelmed with compliments today...

Georgina @ Olive Me, a must have read whom I stalk daily, handed me my first ever blogging award along with several other bloggers I follow or will now.

 ode to olive juice

Thank you G!

girlfriend.

gorgeous.

giving.

great expectations.

gracious.

going places.

growth.

givahootery.

grins and giggles.

glossary.

generous.

glorious.

Georgina!

Check the list of my peers who I am honored to share kudos with.

One in particular, Vencora @ Coffee with a Hint of Self Delusion, gave me and my humble blog a shout-out...my first one.  I hear you loud and clear V!  I love reading you too and I appreciate your reference to "lots of beautiful pictures" in my chicago, chagall, and choice post.  In addition, Vencora leaves me great comments after I post, including this compliment about the aforementioned chicago themed entry:

"your seemingly random yet unmistakably artistic photo shots are something I relate to. When you appreciate something so much, you see the things that no-one else sees."

EXACTLY!  I had a blast shooting my favorite city and I have many more photos to share later. For understanding my mixed up motives and labeling my shots artistic, I humbly offer my friend V...

Now I pass the buck, share the love, reward the writers whom I read...CHEERS!

Beth @ I Should Be Folding Laundry
(expecting her third child any day, suffered loss of twins, You Capture photo meme, inspires)

Chuck @ Chuck's Adventures
(retired HS English teacher from my almamater, world traveler,  photographer, been blogging since...well, before blogging was a word, generous commenter)

Serenityville @ Aayymee, whatchoo gonna do-o?
(open, funny, inspirational, former European resident, musical)

Cat @ Wait. What?
(honestly beautiful, fellow journeyer, poet, mom)

Sarah Toa @ A WineDark Sea 
(you may find her on a fishing boat in Australia, photographer, writer, reader, historian)

Meghan @ Blackberries to Apples
(20 something single living in NYC, humorous, talented, southern)

For supplying me with future fodder and interesting ideas, for entertaining my senses, for encouraging me to encourage, for allowing me to comment and follow and join your journeys, for your public displays of honesty, for teaching and touching me, for helping me grow and fly and explore, for YOU...BEAUTIFUL BLOGGERS...

Marc Chagall, 1972

chicago, chagall, and choice

I'm still buzzing with energy from my trip to the big city.

Blogger friend, Serenityville, asked some important questions of her readers:

What do you wish you would do that you're not doing?

What are you doing that you absolutely love?

How have you found your passion, did it come naturally or have you searched for it, like me?

What have you done/seen/read or who have you met that has helped you figure it out?

 ...and these questions could have come straight outa' my brain this weekend as I was walking between skyscrapers with my telephoto lens leading my way.

I wish.  But wishing isn't supposed to be what I do daily.  Wishing is not adult-like or responsible.  I wish anyway.  I dream.  I wonder.  I may be the reincarnation of Alice in her land or Dorothy dancing towards Oz.  Flower child waving her arms at the farm party.  Barefoot and tie dyed.  Eyes closed and inhibitions absent.  Soul and face smiling out loud.  Tears.  

You know that your time is coming round~U2 

 

I love to write.  I love to share here.  I love my family.  I love my friends.  I love meaningful music and poignant poetry.  I love photographing the unexpected.  I love looking through my viewfinder, looking at the beautifully unknown.  I love to read other people.  I love that other people read me.  I love the little things, the details that may go unnoticed unless I write about them.  

I love creating my story...with words and photos and music and poetry.  I love looking out and I love my outlook.  I love changing into what I never thought I could become.  I love that my fingers are moving unconsciously right at this moment.   I love the salty tears that my eyes are trying not to release.  

I love Wilco songs.  

Truth shines from inside of me.  Can you see it?  see me?  all the things that I do?  Some people can.  Some people can't.  

 

I survive.  It's good enough for now.~Wilco

Searching still.  For passions dreamed and passions hidden and passions forgotten.  Some say my mind changes passions as often as my shuffled cd's.  Some say I have none.  Some say passions are unwarranted.  

I say LOOK AT ME, DAMN IT!  I'M ONE BIG GIANT PASSION!

Please don't be afraid.  My passions won't overtake yours.  My passions fill me, not you.  Sparks living inside my mind, passions.  Stars covering my eyelids when I sleep, passions.  Colors of the sky, passions.  My childrens' faces, passion.  Profound, real, true, loving, living...passion.

Oh how I search!  Oh what I've found!   Naturally sequestered passions, hidden from me as I struggled with the knots tied to my mind.  Hobbies begun in childhood.  Likes and dislikes, competing for position.  Puzzle pieces gone missing for years.  And look where I have landed!  In the land of "that's not me."  Think again kiddo.

 When I'm awake enough, I'm gonna' shake it off~Jeff Tweedy 

I wanna' be the sun you hear in your head~U2

I hear all of you.
I hear the truth and it sets me free.  
My truth, and it's not pretty.  My truth is muddy.

Many have influenced the ratio of water and dirt to create my muddy.  Many over these 43 years.  Some recently, some not.  Some willingly, some indirectly.
Books and albums and media and formal educators and informal education.  
All stating their opinions about what my hands should do.  Where my feet should walk.  

Who my heart should love.  
Why I live.

Some side with the leaves.  Some side with the seeds.~Wilco

Figuring it out.  What IT is, remains to be entirely seen.  The last three days IT has been Chicago.  Photography.  Perspective.  Options.  Art.  Architecture.  Sunshine.  Bean. Brother-in-law.  Elevation.  Trains.  Maps.  Mosaics.  Food.  Friend.  Fun.  Firsts.

 

I like.  I want.  I wish.  I am.