water weaves waves reflecting brick and weeds window refracting sun sprinkling light on playful crests weaving water waves
Tag: outdoors
How to Get Lost
- Plan an easy walk in the woods.
- Don’t forget to bring matches and knife.
- If you think there’ll be muggers bring a big knife.
- Walk on trail admiring trees, streams, and wildlife.
- Be so focused on that zen awareness of your surroundings that you forget to follow the trail markers.
- Find different color trail markers and assume that it is the same trail.
- Don’t bring a compass and whatever you do, don’t consult your phone for location. That’s cheating!
- Follow that fox or eagle.
- Realize you’re lost.
- Try to get back to your car. Hmmm…
full moon recall
dream
salt sea foam
clams scurry
dig themselves
into sand
as the waves recede
we are young
i wrap
burgundy and cobalt
gauze scarf
about my torso
my nipples show
i reach out
to touch
your silken sandy curls
as cigarette smoke
sinuously rises
your voice rumbles
weakens my knees
Transition: July 25, 2016
Dark night,
sea seeps into sky.
I make footprints,
sand soft against my soles,
soft against my soul,
dipping my feet
at the ocean’s edge.
First light fills the sea.
Sable brushes
against sky.
Ebony ripples
topped
by pale whitecaps.
Still,
the sea is monotonously calm.
One small wave
lands at my feet.
Clouds fall into horizon.
Sky grows lavender
and pale azure,
flaunts charcoal clouds.
Rain
comes.
I
walk.
East,
stirring of orange glow.
By my right shoulder,
moon peers through clouds.
Sandpipers descend
from
wherever they spend the night.
Feast on
tiny shoreline organisms.
Nimbly avoid
the sweep of waves.
Race forward
and back
from water’s edge.
Skim across the sand
in a motley crew,
in a ballet of
choice
&
fate.
Now,
Bach’s major chords.
Lemon, rose, violet commingle,
create
a path to the horizon.
Clouds consume rising mist.
West light expands.
Sun capers
in cloud mountain peaks,
rises from the sea.
Indigo clouds stretch,
unveil coral cumulous,
so fluffy
I could eat them.
Cloud column rises from sea,
lays against green sky.
Thunder crashes,
booms.
Lightening cracks open sky.
Heat leaps from sand.
Moist
heat
rises,
cocoons me.
North turquoise sky,
dusky blue ocean.
I turn south,
purple horizon,
salmon undercoat,
azure and lemon overlay.
Creation
every day.
Backyard Sunday
I lay flat in my small, urban yard and heard the cheering fans at Camden Stadium, the young urbanites at the bar at the end of the block, and the occasional radio rolling by in a car. I sank my body into the slate footstones, trying to unfurl the tightness stored in large quantities, imagining the Earth’s warm core seeping into me. Listened. The chorus of birds sang to their young, caught in the interstices of the cacophony of the city. The new leaves and pink and white buds on the crab apple tree were splayed with sunshine. I sat up and dipped my brush into amber, sapphire and emerald watercolors. The paper was fresh and white.
Buddy, my black and white cat, meowed to come join me and I opened the door. He settled comfortably under the tree, hoping the birds wouldn’t notice him. Suddenly, Buddy decided it was his chance to jump into the neighbors yard and try to find that orange tabby that lives somewhere in the alley. Yikes! Buddy is a rescue, with no claws and two teeth. The tabby outweighs him by at least 10 pounds. The orange tabby probably eats rats bigger than my cat. I ran out the gate, captured Buddy, and threw him back inside. He was indignant, but saved from his own intentions, as we all need to be at times. I went back and completed my painting. It was a glorious Sunday.
3/2015
above the knoll
of weapons
pale full moon
strangled gently
Sonnet of the Frog
Now comes the princess, fair and fine
Playing near pond fringed with grasses
Saying, “Watch this ball that is mine.”
I watch her as she passes.
The golden ball fallen in pond is my chance
It bounces, drops down muddy bottom stuck in the water
On my lily pad, I jump and do a waltz and dance
It is my own girl, I have waited for her.
“Come on back, come on back, take me with you.”
She hastens away, skirts flying behind, laughing in delight
I jump from the pond, leaping my green frog body fro and to
My princess when she hears me, exclaims in fright,
“Oh father, oh father, I know not this frog.”
I say, “My fair lady, you promised!” The king
proclaims sternly, “A promise is kept, even one from a bog.”
I ate from her plate, but she flung me away from her pillow. I went ping!
My request for the pillow denied
As princess and prince now we will abide.
Exteriors and Interiors: Part 1
In the past months, I’ve been contemplating creativity in many forms and randomly taking photographs along the way. A chance to review all those photos gave me the realization that I photographed outdoor murals, architecture, and the wild beauty of Falls Road in Baltimore, plus the interiors of two homes I admired. Hence, this blog entry and the next will be about the deliberate impact of artists, architects and builders on both exterior and interior space.
This entry will feature some of Baltimore’s murals and roads in public spaces. The next will be about domestic design and projects. Perhaps it will inspire you toward some creative project of your own – they are certainly making me think of new ideas.
These sights are on the way to Baltimore Aikido, around or along Falls Road.
The mural below has a bicycle shop below it.
I am always intrigued by bridges and the way they interact with the surrounding area. This is a favorite tunnel created by a bridge over the Falls River and Road.
In a city, overlapping roads and railways are inevitable and the controlled chaos they create is beautiful and made more so by nature sneaking through the concrete.
My favorite mural is by Freddy Sam. It is so big I took two photos to show the whole thing. Freddy Sam’s website, freddysam.com, is well worth checking out. He is an experienced muralist from South Africa and has created murals in many parts of the world.
gaia mouse 