Saturday, March 29, 2014
When I woke this morning and stretched into the day, I realized this very long, very cold winter was receding into memory, that summer will arrive, as it always has, and the red-winged blackbirds will return.
As a reminder of what is to come, I played the youtube video created by my friend, JB, using photographs I'd taken of this beautiful land I'm honored to call home. While playing it, I noticed another video on the sidebar that looked like fun. And it was. It's a short trip in the WABAC machine. What a wonderful moment between two great artists in their prime. I thought you might enjoy it, too. Linda and Johnny:
And, here is the original post and video:
The photograph is mine.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
The public radio station, KAXE, has again played one of my poems on their morning program, The Beat. I am so honored to be included in this fine group of poets, and am very much looking forward to the live reading on the evening of April 11th. I include a link to the poem here and also the original post:
Thursday, March 20, 2014
About two weeks ago, I was working on two poems - poems I had originally put on Twitter - wanting to combine them into one. One of the poems came about due to a plate I have hanging in my kitchen of a lynx in snow with a rabbit beneath its paw, a plate my mother once had hanging in her kitchen. It was a gift from her sister, who had traveled to Norway. I was thinking about finding an image to illustrate the poem on my poetry blog and thought how nice it would be to have my own photo to use. I had never seen a lynx but had occasionally heard them in the woods near our farm when I was a very young girl, a bone chilling cry as though the cry of a baby lost in the woods. I thought even seeing and being able to photograph footprints would be nice although from where I was sitting it didn't seem possible. I let it go.
I might have thought I was seeing things, except I just happened to look out the next day and there it was again, leaving the area by the woodshed and moving back across the open space to the coop/garden shed. I grabbed my camera and got two very poor images, my own personal evidence that I hadn't lost my mind. I wondered if she might stick around, maybe even give birth in the shed among the straw bales. I sure hope so. I decided to not let my curiosity get the best of me, but to stay away and let her have her space.
The significance for me has not been lost. I'm not certain how the world works, what the true nature of reality is, but I do wonder ... was it my own manifestation, was I seeing what I needed to see? Did I create it in that moment, as I suspect we do with all our moments? Was it a message from my mother, or perhaps even my great grandmother, who has brought me messages in visions/dreams before? I do know something quite wonderful happened and I don't need to have answers so much as I need and want to be grateful. It has been the springboard for healing, both emotional and physical. The strength and grace with which the lynx moved gave me the insight I needed to walk in this world with the same sense of strength and grace. It showed me what I needed to see and it provided me with a deep sense of caring and love that the world itself brings to us when we simply ask.
Here is the micropoem which brought me to this wonderful experience:
The photograph of the chicken coop is mine.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Normally I would say, 'Don't mess with perfection," but then I ran across something this morning in my pursuit of an image to illustrate a poem and had to make room for a new perspective. Serena Malyon, an illustrator, has taken several paintings by Vincent van Gogh and, using Photoshop, created what is known as the tilt shift. I'm fascinated by them and immediately wanted to share them with you.
Addendum: I've also posted my poem, "Vincent In Another Life," at my poetry blog with another image:
Here are the sites where I found them and more information regarding their creation:
Monday, March 10, 2014
This is still, in my humble opinion, the best article to date on this subject.