How many times have I considered returning to theses pages, to blog again, I truly don’t know yet what I do know this blog and the practice of writing here is like a friend to me that I have left behind and wish to reconnect and build a stronger conscious relationship with.
I wrote in my morning pages that I have so many parts of me that make who I am who I am and the person and or being is ever-changing, well not really changing, manifesting, evolving into a whole presence of being.
A year and 10 months ago when I began the new phase in life it was fresh start and the old challenges and daily struggles gone. I was truly on my own which was at first lonely, no not lonely I had felt abandoned, everything and everyone I once knew and counted on was gone, or seemed that way. I had to become responsible for myself which meant uncovering who I was now. As I unpacked boxes from a lifetime ago that had been in storage the old me began to emerge again, some of that person I did not wish to experience again, so he was set aside. There were recent creative activities I had even let go of that I now wish to bring forward once again.
Those being the healer, of course I had healing of my own to do first. Being the healer meant I can share my wisdom and knowledge to those around me in whatever form that showed up as. The healing of self began with eating healthier, getting exercise, building new social and creative connections and relationships. Ever growing, evolving and experiencing life in the present.
Willing to experience aloneness,
I discovered connection everywhere,
Turning to face my fear,
I meet the warrior who lives within;
Opening to my loss,
I am given unimaginable gifts;
Surrendering into emptiness,
I find fullness without end.
Each condition I flee from pursues me.
Each condition I welcome transforms me
And become itself transformed
Into its radiant jewel-like essence.
I bow to the one who made it so,
Who has crafted this Master Game;
To play it is pure delight,
To honor it is true devotion.
Jennifer Welwood: psychotherapist
I discovered this poem this morning which resonated with who I am becoming. The following blogs will illuminate that process of awareness. Who will show up are the many facets of my being, the inperfect self improving being we all have the opportunity to become.
The passages below are semi stream of consciousness from my Morning pages, so if there is rambling and not completely clear that is the reason why. I have desired to blog for a while now, I can’t believe it has been almost a month and my intention was to write at least once a week. I think it is the morning pages that fill the need to blog as often, yet MP’s are like talking to yourself and I enjoy sharing what is going on in my life and artistic creations. So here are words from this mornings pages.
August 30th 2015, 7:03 AM
The page is blank to be filled but not to be filled with blankness or just ordinary words and language that goes nowhere or says nothing. The page should shine, the page can sing, the page can dance, as well as create beauty to be held and shared with the world around it for the music magic to dance and sing our songs to create beauty with beauty is there for us all to behold, to unwrap, to envision even more magical beauty, mystical visions that are real. The blank page has that opportunity to transform, to enlighten, and to shine out into the world. One only has to write the words, create the language imbued with so much passion that the world sighs, the universe illuminates the capacity to love a 1000 fold or infinitely.
Yet our human mind and ego or at least mine is always searching for the “right” moment, the right time, seeking to be inspired to write, asking what does the world wish to know, what do I have that others wish to read or experience shared that would somehow bless those who understand. Who am I to even consider such a task, who am I to know that I am worthy of such an undertaking. Knowing all art is created because the artist has the desire or passion to place an object, a painting, a photograph, or music or any dozens of other creations into the universe. I suppose I am trying to understand my purpose to self-publish a photography book with text of quotes and poetry, seeking to come to grips with my hesitancy to do such a project. First I do it for me, because I was called to do it, and I have the opportunity to create this first book in all its imperfections, in all its stumbling and challenges because it is an area of creativity I don’t have any real knowledge of. You do have a book, you have the instructions on the template for the book making process from Blurb, and you just have to make the effort to be involved. It is like any relationship, and you are playing “push me, pull me” you want it but you don’t know how to be in it, something is generating from this project that is brilliant and beautiful, your fear and doubt are only road blocks keeping you from putting it together.
That is the blank pages, the book has a cover, one that doesn’t even have to be the cover yet it is vision, the starting point to begin. Writing each day is the blank page to publishing your blog whether you believe others wish to read what you have to say or even considering what you want to say. Being truthful, being authentic even in all the imperfections, admitting I don’t know what I am doing, meeting the challenge anyway. The blank page of the “Trash Project” has another page added to it as well, four unseen prints, looking for mats and frames, desiring release, a release that would open new doors, if not new at least other avenues to venture on to. These are all exciting creations, let them shine; now is the time for their moment in the world.
A house is not a home unless someone’s living there… the song poignantly points out, and continues, “a chair is not a chair unless someone is sitting there….”
Well it has been seven months since my move into my new home, it is not a house it is an apartment, an apartment situation on the west side of a 1940’s high-rise, with a grand looking out across the landscape suburban to city. The sunsets are something to behold almost daily, even the sunrise the way the trees and city buildings capture the light; slowly illuminating the day.
A few days ago I stood amazed taking all of this in, my little home in sky, the rooms beginning to fill up, the comfort of “feeling” at home, touched by gratitude that all of this has happened. I brought very little with me from my old life, yes there is still stuff in storage elsewhere, and I used what I thought I would like to have around me to create an atmosphere of bohemian comfort, or shabby chic, or whatever?
At first I slept on the floor with a pile of blankets for my bed and sat on the floor against the walls to eat or read, grateful for the walls and view that presented itself for the next part of my journey. There was and still is peacefulness and quiet, generally, the outside world intrudes on occasion. Yet in my little world high in the sky, comfort and peace was and is mine to have. I have bed now, I have chairs from the old house, I have books and photographs, and enough kitchen equipment to create meals, and make special treats.
There were flashes in the beginning of thoughts, is this mine? Is someone going to come and take it away? Is the real? Yes, it is mine, my space, my home. I have moments of struggle emotionally, I have challenges financially that pull me up short at times, I breathe, being in the moment. Doing what I have to do to let go of the struggle and to face the challenges, which seem to be minor when faced and accepted as the responsibilities of living.
So Seven Months, and no one been here, I have conceptualized a salon or open house, that has yet to happen. That activity is my next creative event to make happen. I need to do this because financially I can’t go out, I can hardly afford to travel anywhere, let alone to meet with people to socialize. Socialization will have to happen here, and it is my intention to make that happen. Consider this an invitation.
Suddenly I seemed to have awakened once again from dancing with shadows only to arrive here now. Into a normal day, if Saturdays are ever normal, Holy Saturday in fact, of the Easter/Passover weekend. The weekend is also in high vibrational shift astronomically with the Second of three Eclipse in the year, over a full Moon.
I have been artistically block or shut down, I kept making photo, I kept at the creative work yet it was feeling numb about most of what I was doing, when I was doing it.
Just now I came in from a photography walk with Muffin, our first walk of the day, I was feeling excited and thrilled to have gone out to make photos this morning, which begun out the apartment windows. The clouds and light was just magnificent among the cityscape I could no longer resist. I had not real subject in mind when headed out the door with zoom lens attached, I knew it would be useful if the water fowl were about or whatever else came across my vision.
The excitement of what I felt was a welcomed friend, I knew that I just was in the process of creation, whether there are any good photos among these shots it really matters not. The essence is that process happen out of pure joy of Being present in the world. I was not escaping from anything, I was not seeking anything, I was just following my bliss.
I am not sure I conveyed the experience or the relief properly, my objective was to make a statement “that the path has opened up for me once again”
I was not looking for the moment, I was not trying to make something happen, Suddenly It and I was there! Suddenly the recognition was there, that Ah Ha Moment! Pure pure Bliss!!
Out the front door of the apartment complex and across the street are marsh land and what is called a lake, Newton Creek Lake according to my research, the lake and park are 103.29 acres, there are walking paths and playgrounds along the way. I have recently notice men with trailers attached to their cars/truck backing up the the dock ramp to load boats which have been out on the water now that has thawed. I have not explored much and have kept pretty close to the apartment thus far due to the weather. According to the little bit of research I found they seems to be what they call “old growth” trees on the north end, whichever direction that is? I will have to explore.
Even though I now live in a very citified building nature is only moments way, trees, water, birds, and I imagine other wild life that I have yet to experience. This space offers me more opportunity to photograph in nature once I get my mojo back up to speed.
Before another moment passes, and I am distracted by all the distraction of life. I am here, to write, well to offer you a view. This blog is about art, about photography, the process and the facts.
So Fridays will become Photo Fridays where Photographs will rule the page.
For years I have been fascinated by leaves, all seasons, all weather, and I have photographed them from buds, to blooms, to full fledge green flags flipping in the wind! To what I present today, fallen leaves, carpets of leaves.
Recently I have been photographing fallen leaves, a bit from above, shooting down at them, more fascinating is laying on the ground with me, ant level.
So the new series is being presented. With a poem “Dead Leaves” by MdAsadullah
Never think that dead leaves cannot speak.
Words can be uttered without mouth or beak.
Come in heard to hear and they’ll remain mum.
To hear them in solitude you need to come.
Loneliness and silence are their best friend.
You can listen only if truth you seek and intend.
If you’ve mind and heart to listen, men of clay!
Words more worthy than living they can say.
If your heart is strong and if you have no fear.
Then in storms they are very loud, very clear.
And if your heart is weak in breeze come near.
Truth of this life they will whisper in your ear.
I am grateful to have you walk this path with me today. I am honored to share these wondrous creations, the leaf with whoever wanders down a path. Please “see” .