Mom

Mom
Mom

Art

Art
Art

Yoga

Yoga
Yoga

Me

Me
Me.....being grateful for every thing, every breath, every day of this life
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Friday, September 25, 2009

my great gift, the friends in my life



I am only ever
gratitude
Memories are thick
Who I have come across
and held
onto
walked and danced with
are greatness
in motion
Fleeting
Fleeing
Ever changing
But still I hold
onto
gently as an ancient, antique,
fragile tea cup
My love swarms and surrounds
as a storm
that rattles
those who were next to me
I find
through a squint
light within me
as I look down
as I look back
all
because of
you.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

My Daughter, The Artist




We had a wonderful experience today. I began to experiment with the mural of birds, branches, leaves and trees that I am going to paint on my daughter's new bedroom walls. I just wanted to do a test birdie. Mirabelle was crying and moaning at my feet to do one of her own. Being just two years and one month old, I had never thought to give her the chance to experiment with painting. Let alone permanent acrylics. But, I thought of something else. I let her begin to handle a small brush, with a pinch of paint and with the colors I chose for her mural. I asked her to keep it on a white board and she listened very well. I saw that she was beginning to create. It was beautiful.

Mirabelle decided to experiment with the way she held the brush and the amount of pressure while applying the paint. I continued filling her brush with paint, when needed, at her request. And then the magic began to develop. She started deciding when she wanted which colors. She would ask for brown, purple, green, all at different times. Instead of guiding her and showing her what to do, how to paint, I let her guide me. I filled her brush when she asked me to. And like she swirls around a room to music in her fairy princess tutu, she also let her paint brush dance across her canvas board.

We then decided the place to hang her work. I held the piece in different locations in her room. I would say, "here?" She would reply, "no." Then we finally got an "Okay!" She was proud of her work and I was also. She contributed to her room's atmosphere of beauty and decor. She will be sleeping right below her first masterpiece, every night.

The magic lay in the experience of seeing something happen for the very first time. Naturally. With ease and wonder. She gave no effort. The art and feeling of creating, choosing and manipulating color, just came to her. It reminded me of what Edouard Manet, Paul Cezanne or Jackson Pollock must have been thinking or feeling when they were moving toward creating something totally different and new with color, for the very first time, just from their subconscious mind's movement.

And the work presented in her room.