I love bubbles. Yes it's true. Blowing bubbles changes my mood completely. I become full of joy when I pull out the soapy stick. The bubbles just waiting to float through the air. Magical little images moving through them.
Recently, I was at a sound healing retreat held by Michael Moon. (I was lucky because a friend send me.) One crisp and cool morning, I rose with a cup of tea in one hand and a bottle of soapy water. There was dew on the grass and my runners were slightly damp from the moisture. I was alone and ready to play with bubbles. Out came the magic maker and I blew, blew and blew. The bubbles released in a loose chain like manner in varies sized. I always giggle when I see them rise up and float upon the wind. Some bubbles had hints of blues and purples while others had orange or pink hues. There was something different that morning, for these bubbles decided to land in the grass and hang out for a while.
The dew on the ground was an inviting place for the bubbles to glisten and rest. I couldn't believe that they stayed there for so long. I bounced around admiring them and tried to create more. It was a field for my bubbly pleasure. I stared and sang to them and after 5 or 10 minutes the thought occured to me, "Take some pictures." All I had was my cellphone. I wasn't sure if the bubbles would last if I went to get my digital camera from the cabin. So, I took a few quick shots.
You're on my mind and in my mouth. Running through my dreams and the passing visions as I sit. I speak of YOU to everyone, smiling and shining.
Beaming from the thought that you are so close. Only a short distance away. Each hour passes quickly and I know I will be near you.
I replay your smile and laughter.
The way you touch your face when you have something difficult to
say. Stroking your hair back with your
right hand and looking up to the sky.
Your expressive groan of a
full belly
after a good meal startling
pedestrians. The subtle pull of my jacket as you ask me to be practical with my time and schedule.
Drinking tea, listening to your
poetry
full of depth and anger of your
past. Hearing the strength in your voice knowing you had enough. You are going forward, journeying with your aching
heart. Reaching out to the shadows to cast them away completely.
These are the things on my mind and in my mouth.
I see your eyes,
deep brown, warm and tender. I sense trust without
any questions. The stories of the past released by your kisses. I feel your kisses soft pink, wet and strong. I know love without any questions.
Who are we? Are we real?
The keys under my fingers lightly pressed and moving smoothly. Letters strolling across my screen, Words forming and creating
sentences. The world is silent and the night sky is blocked by the light of my
computer. I can not stop this. This writing to you.
Wanting to place my lips
upon your ears. Whispering softly to you. Taking in your scent. Feeling your heart beat against my naked breasts.
Is this real?
The feeling of closeness yet me being here and you there.
Can you feel me in your bed
as you sleep, as I feel you?
YOU ARE on my mind and in my mouth.
(This was writing years ago to a former partner. We separated and I was still holding on. I'm posting it now because it was a major healing and transformative time for me. I had difficulties expressing my feelings and connection to this person. We all go through changes in our relationships. Some of my poetry and songs came from this time in my life. Thanks for reading.)
I have a series of pictures and videos to share but as I'm looking at them, I'm wondering more about the Art of Creation.
We create every day, the moment we wake up. What we decide to wear is a creation. What we decide to eat is a creation. How we speak to others is all a form of creation stemming from us. Does this relate to the pictures below? Yes and no.
Yes, it does because these items represent things from my mind and heart.
No, it does not because these items are limited forms and only samples of creation.
Boy, I didn't expect to write that.
Why share at all? Well, every piece is part of a whole. Here I go... one piece of art or creation, for that matter, is a stepping stone and act of communication beyond the written or spoken word. At times, my writing skills are... let's say, a work in progress. But, through a stroke of a pencil, pen or brush speaks volumes. A message is relayed and emotions are provoked, each person sees and feels what they need at that time.
You'll notice below a few pieces of work from my youth to now. The message has changed over the years as my method of communicating was affected by my beliefs. I felt that creating must be specific, and have meaning behind every point. I realized that creating anything was the point. Sure, I had the intention to make something "pretty" or "beautiful" but I became frustrated more than inspired. I had to let it go. Let go of the outcome, the expectation that it should be "beautiful."
No matter what, keep creating. You'll never know what will form unless you try.
Toy Bunny
In my teens I had time on my hands to create. I love stuffed animals and I sat down to draw this Easter bunny. I never took an advance art class but I tried working with shadows to create depth and form for this cute bunny.
My Hand
In 2009, after a year of separation from my partner, I was looking for my voice again. My love of music lead me to a vocal teacher. After a wonderful class, I drew this on the subway on my way home. I wasn't sure what I wanted to draw. But, this is what I saw. It's was a long time since I used this skill of drawing.
Can't You See
I was feeling down and needed some inspiration. It was a cloudy day in the fall of 2012. As I started to walk a tune came to me. I was lucky I had my camera.
Beaded Butterfly
A good friend gave me seed beads. I decided I wanted to create something beautiful so I found a website with patterns. It was the first time I worked with wire, and it took me days to make this. I then gifted it to another friend. I put a lot of love into this beaded butterfly. (I also created a number of earrings and bracelets which I gifted to friends.)
Sensations
I wanted to create a short video for the poem 'Sensations' from my chapbook entitled Turning Pink published by A Beret Day Book, The Ontario Poetry Society, September 2011. I've added images from the internet and my vocals to compliment the poem. (I'm not totally happy with the song but it is what it is. I didn't know that I could create a video but worked it out.)
Flash Web
This image came to me in a dream. I call it the "Flash Web." Not all of the components of the dream are in this drawing but it is complete as it is. There are many areas of life that lead you outward but only one is clear to come back. I normally would avoid using colour because I was afraid of blending them. But I took a chance and used pencil crayons.
Out of Frustration
I was creating something out of clay and it didn't line up. I became extremely frustrated and angry with myself. I pushed it back into the dusty corner at which it came. Oh... that's my art. The chaos within my being. I wrote in my journal .. oh, why can't I create. Why? Answer:TRY again.
Out of my frustration I ripped paper. Oh it felt sooo good. Why fight the urge to create? Everything is a creation. Out of my frustration I made this. Layers of paper, torn and reborn. Layers of creation and I could always add more. HA!
Polymer Clay
After creating the above picture, breathing and a whole lot of yelling, I tried again at blending polymer clay. It turned out fine.
Releasing the Seed
More dream work art, I see images of two hands which are different colours that represent love and healing.
Spirit's Voice
This piece came to me as I was singing a healing song for my friend in distress. I started with the heart. I used both hands to draw this image.
Spiral Flower Dream
My dreams are full of colour and images. I wanted to document it on paper with colour instead of just writing it out. It started out grey but as the dream progressed colour emerged creating a personal mandala.
Our skin is our largest organ, well, that’s what I was
told.It helps us interact and
experience our environment.Why wouldn’t
we welcome touch?I’m no expert on
physiology or psychology but I know that touch is essential for my development.I feel things with my skin be it on my leg,
belly, lips or fingertips each area sends messages to my heart, mind, and
spirit.
I love sitting in the grass and feeling the green blades
against my legs.They are delicate and gentle
even as my weight presses down upon them.The blades move ever so softly with the wind and caresses my skin.I enjoy combing the grass with my hands and
sensing the different levels that peek out between my fingers.Sometimes, ants roam across me like a bridge
to the other side.If I stay still, they
come and go without any distress and those experiences are captured with my
skin.
I have a cat that is a soft, fluffy, and a dark black-brown
beauty.Holding her is a treat.Her calm and mellow being has a major affect on me.
Through her coat, I trace her bone
structure with my hands.She then decides
to bury her head into my neck and up to my lips for kisses, such a sensory
delight.These moments of interacting
with her are precious.
As a child, I loved when my parents would stroke my hair.Each time my curls would spring back as they
lifted their hand to start again.My
scalp would sing like a wind chime ringed. I would settled in and fall asleep.No wonder why my children loved it too.
Imagine a hug, surely a simple thing, isn’t it?BUT, embracing someone fully is ... unexplainable
at times. When I wrapped my arms around my children,
the sensation of my heart becomes engaged.Even
though they are larger than me and my head rests on their shoulders a feeling
of peace arise. We are all blessed
with this type of joy.
