Can extract sunshine from a cloudy day!

Join the great company of those who make the barren places of life fruitful with kindness. Carry a vision of heaven in your hearts, and you shall make your name,your college, the world, correspond to that vision. Your success and happiness lie within you. External conditions are the accidents of life, its outer wrappings. The great, enduring realities are love and service. Joy is the holy fire that keeps our purpose warm and our intelligence aglow. Resolve to keep happy, and your joy and you shall form an invincible host against difficulty. ~ Helen Keller
L❀VE ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥ •´¯`•.¸¸.♥Fiat Lux ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥L❀VE ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥ •´¯`•.¸¸.♥Fiat Lux ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥

Thursday, December 27, 2012

2013- A Year That Promises Sparkles

Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥
She who leaves a trail of glitter always sparkles! ( and is never forgotten too, haha!) And that's what 2013 will be for me - a - trail - of - sparkles! I am setting out to make the coming year a jolly, joyful, mirthful, laughter filled year. I dare declare it my jubilee year; 365 days of purposely planned and carefully crafted effervescent days of  joy.- I mean that - or my name isn't Lady Prism, haha!

The way I see it, you and I are both vessels of light. I am - You are- light incarnate! We are meant to shimmer and  radiate. Whatever religious affiliation, ideology, conviction, race, color or creed, Christmas is for all. It is the rekindling gift of light by the Christ, our Redeemer, offered to every single living thing on earth, be it man, woman, child or creature. Let everything that has life praise the Lord, the Good Book says, for He has come to give us joy, a joy the world cannot give.

The Christ of Christmas I know is the spirit of the loving Nazarene, a beacon of love and light, who without earthly political agenda set out to boldly speak of hope, forgiveness and redemption. His message was one of living on higher ground through the practical application of kindness towards self and neighbors. Such a very simple, plain preaching devoid of religious hysteria it was hard to take then, and hard to take now.

And as we are reminded by the season to live in joy, I am personally filled to the brim with a hope of having my light within rekindled luminescent.  A happy me means a happy community of those around me.  I want my happiness to flow because I want my joy to touch you. Being happy takes conscious effort. It takes work. It takes loving discipline; a positive focusing of thoughts hinged on faith. Whatever is good, whatever is lovely, whatever is worthy of praise, think only of those things, the Good Book says.

Being happy takes planning, organization and  execution. The world created out of chaos was formed into order, so should our lives be. It takes sacrifice at times, a giving up of temporal enticements that appear exciting at the present moment but lead nowhere except to  the inner enclaves of spiritual destitution and moral disaster - for if the light in you is darkness, how terribly dark it will be.  Happiness takes courage and a dash of bravery too! It takes giving up and  letting go. It takes an open heart and an open mind. Happiness is not only being with people, it is at times wrestling with a loneliness so deep, facing whatever need be, then plodding on until the clouds break through and light bursts forth again. Happiness is consciously casting out whatever dark thoughts that assail the spirit during downtrodden days, believing that we are never truly alone. Happiness is the mastery of patience, the generosity of understanding, and the charity of forgiving - everyday.

These words I write simply because in times when I feel less than shinning, it would do well to refer the fact that I am a person who chooses to be happy. I am created for joy. My happiness does not hinge on objects to own or people to possess. It isn't hooked on how I am perceived by others either looked up or looked down upon. My happiness is not flared by the grand theatrics of a howling, drinking partying crowd, nor seduced by ominous racks of designer must haves. It isn't rocked by despairing days or rendered arrogant by triumph. My happiness stems from a confidence that I am esteemed by a God of Love and, that my worth is far above rubies. My fave Max Lucado book says it all - God wants you, just the way you are. And this, this is the happiness that makes me sparkle. This is my light. A light that you and I both share, magnificently lit from an everlasting radiant Divine source that kindles from within.

“You are the light of the world.
A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. 

~ Matthew 5:14


Wednesday, December 26, 2012

The Gift

Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥
 Hiked off to the beauty parlor just after this hatty photo was taken (oweee' haha!). I feel so sparkly tootsie' as the nice lady made sure my hair got all the pretty pampering it (desperately) deserved.

When I came in my roots were all but bare pronounced with strands here and there jutting on ends like misshappen twigs in trajectory. The young miss seriously contemplated what probably appeared like an obtrusive swallow's nest atop my head, then turned to a senior stylist and openly discussed the acute condition before her. After exchanging random numbers of what I believe were mysterious mixes of shades and exact procedures for "reviving" my limp crestfallen mane, my good lady intently explained what was to be done in the hopes, most likely, that I would comprehend the gravity of what she has to deal with, haha!

Quite a "rare" thing for me to visit the shop as I prefer to style myself by my lonesome self - sometimes good, sometimes bad. Took all two hours to get me all together, but wow, oh yes, I was so pleased with the aftermath, couldn't help but faintly swing my head every now and then loving the lemony scent and feeling the delicate silky feel of hair brushing skin. I wish I had a pic of that moment of new me, hehe! A little simple pampering truly makes the spirit glad.

2013 is a year for the sparkles! Oh yes, it is! That's my word for it. --> Shine and Sparkle! I am wiping the slate clean, starting beautiful   and positive, more than ever before! With passion I am very very grateful for the blessings of 2012, and somber in humble acknowledgement of those moments wherein I knew I could have done or acted wiser. -- Now when it comes to gifts, it bears acknowledging that one of the greatest gifts I am truly thankful for is - my husband of 23 years and 8 months. Nothing can be of more value than to be with someone you saw through your young 20's, someone who grew up with you through the best and the bad, someone whose presence is constant, stable and reliable. I have many dear friends and I love them all, but as the good book says, there  is that one friend who stands closer than a brother; a friend who will give his very life for another. I am blessed that in my life I know I have that kind of friend in him.

And then of course I am also grateful for my two grown boys. Both in their early 20's, they are proving to be such good friends to me as well! I am much pleased and happy that they have weathered the tumultuous teen years intact (haha!) and are now braving to create lives of their own. 

Thursday, December 6, 2012

On Higher Ground



Each of us makes our own weather, 
determines the color of the skies, 
and the emotional universe which we inhabit. 
~ Fulton J. Sheen

Possessing a cottage by the sea, living lulled by wavy foamed lazy waves and taking leisurely walks in warm sugar bleached sand is a romantic notion that buoys my Piscean  fancy. -- The cottage: stony rustic with wistery climbing bounganvilla on its tiled clay roof, or vintage white timbered with a white porch facing the waves, or tropical quaint bamboo(ed) `with latched windows accented with dangling yam purple orchids and mango yellow flowerbells -- 

Or it may not be the dream of a sea but of an idyllic provincial cottage (a happenstance convenient10 minute drive to the city, haha!) complete with trellises of sweet yellow bells and fun hello's of friendly neighbors. 

---- little whimsy dreams because in reality I live neither by the sea.....nor  in some seductive romantic back road inn..fronted by a landscape of bliss. ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ
There are painters who transform the sun into a yellow spot,
 but there are others who with the help of their art, 
their intelligence, transform the yellow spot into sun. 
~ Pablo Picasso  

  Nevertheless, I wear this weather of blue skies in the inner insides of me and have colored my homes ( yes, each one I've lived in to where I am today) with the strokes of my emotional universe --> being that what I described above . And it delights me when friends smile and coo' "what a pretty space you've created" ( I have to articulate this because sometimes I forget and grumble and fret so).





 This is how I want to live forever and ever -- > taking a yellow spot and transforming it into the sun --> taking something mundane and working my miracle to make it come alive. Each day to live this way would be such a pleasure.   
 ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. 
  
A tender reminder this is for me --> to trust that I am guided in my path. In moments of doubt and questioning; when a bite of fear sinks deep in my soul and I let slip how very well I am infused with strength that comes from above, it would be well to acknowledge the oft evoked phrase that goes "...we have not been given a spirit of fear but of love". 

Yesterday I was very much uplifted by what I chanced at a women's devotional website.
 
"My heart has no desire to stay
where doubts arise and fears dismay
Though some may dwell where these abound,
my prayer, my aim, is higher ground.


Lord lift me up and let me stand,
By faith on Heaven's table land
A higher plain than I have found;
Lord plant my feet on higher ground." 

 Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥
  
Today's musing leads me to the following insights:
1. We each make our own weather.
2. We determine the color of our skies.
3. We determine the emotional universe which we inhabit.
4. We can transform even a spot into something pretty
5. We are a spirit of LOVE
6.  We can live on higher ground.
 Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥

- all photos and paintings by me :D 

Friday, November 16, 2012

♥ "a list of wonder-fulls!" ♥


 Johan Messely

Now this is the kind of light I want to possess in  life--> sunny wonderful, vibrant - a painting, picture, a thought, an idea, a vision quite easy to replicate in my home where sunshine is a' plenty!. I am absolutely smitten!

---->Taking from the title of this post,  I was going to gab' on about a list of things, objects, beings, ideas that inspire me. BUT no way  can I go with that right now. No sense. It would bear more weight  if I acknowledge that at this very moment, I feel a deep throbbing  hurt. Writing therapy is what this is about.

Somebody very dear to me has said something very mean --> to my face, aiks, agh! Undeserved. However, I am humble enough to acknowledge that, I too, have one time or two or three or four and so on in life,  most especially when I was a young,  unwittingly done a misdeed or uttered a darn selfish callous word towards another. In short, I am throwing no stones.

 Which leads me to the conclusion that one of the most heroic and bravest acts in the world must be the sublime, genuine act of forgiveness; the  absolute, without grudge or judgement forgiving of someone who has hurt, sliced and cut you deep. More so, towards  one who would not because of pride, even accede to the offense.

TRUE, I was verbally maligned but no real crime was committed. Yet, my tears flowed relentlessly ( still do) and a physical pain that seeped to my very veins was what I had to bear. With awe and reverence I think of those  able to forgive in spite of injustice. This is a great lesson on love for me. This is what it means to forgive 70x7. I still remember the words of the Lord.

 To the person I love who has offended and distressed me so, I wish no harm. Yet, I do know that someday, this very person will experience the repercussions of the same great grievance I was subjected to. It will happen....such is the way of the world.  I'm quite afraid I have but to sit back and see. I will love and heal and do pray that at that time, to  have the right words of comfort and wisdom to make things right for this love of mine. What a great lesson on unconditional love to have had today. Pardoned much, I pay forward the grace.

Tomorrow is a new day and  I look forward to it with much reverence and thanksgiving. My soul is as illuminated by that wonderful painting above by Johann Messely.


Another blessing I've enjoyed today in spite of the drama, was a few lovely book purchases I made at my fave bookstore. All books authored by my fave  Maeve Binchy, Currently, I'm halfway through Heart and Soul. Come to thinkof it.."Heart and Soul"..exactly what everything was about today.

Heck, no, I don't have a "list of wonder fulls' to enumerate this moment..but my heart and soul is filled with the peaceful knowledge that I have so generously forgiven,  and more sublimely, ( allow me to say)  I am a loving being. That, I must conclude,  is the most wonderful wonder of all.

Monday, November 12, 2012

This Moment


6:03 in the evening and I've got something cooking on the stove. Smells delish! It's me alone. Me amidst this embracing quiet pickling  minute splintered only by the ruffling resonance of leaves outside my window, sUltrY  conversing among themselves how pleasant tropical November nights can be. Sparkly respite. If I step out I will see a blanket starlit sky - and perhaps the moon too. Later for sure.

 Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥ I will fall in love with life - my own life, once again.  Like every single priceless day with as much potency as possible to blend my conscious self, soul, spirit to the moxie of the minute; to affably  take on the irritants of life and act with purposed benevolence towards everything. Wow! lol! I can do that? Of course I can, says one of the "me's" inside of me, haha!  Tis' the wisest and sweetest thing to reacquaint one's self with all the blessings, gifts, treasures and ( fanciful as it may sound ) the magic of ordinary days.

It was an ordinary day  when I took that picture above - a lazy sunny Sunday afternoon spent out in my small garden with a simple plate of bread sticks, a glass of lime juice, and a book. You wouldn't think that before being seated I was frazzle tired on the verge of crappy. Looking back washes a breeze of peace over me. Grateful.




"When we are mindful, deeply in touch with the present moment, our understanding of what is going on deepens, and we begin to be filled with acceptance, joy, peace and love."
~ Thich Nhat Hanh









Sunday, October 21, 2012

the gracefullest last movement

"By My Bedside" ~ Photo By: Roselle Quin

"You are always new. The last of your kisses was even the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest. "~ Oscar Wilde

No such word as "gracefullest" but leave it to Wilde to toss it in anyway! And I like the quote - like really like it! because my week didn't go as planned in my mind with all the smooth breezy peacefully dewdrop days of trickly peace and sunshiney' planting. Lots of sunshine ok, but no planting. And something upsetting forcefully rocked my inner sanctum  resulting to that night of gnashing, I suppose I can call it for letting lose  my quivering insides, haha! It wasn't chichi' and gawd' wish I could take back that pivot of an hour that despoiled my week. tsk! tsk! Nevertheless, there was fun and much basking in artsy energy as the hub and I visited a gallery and immersed our senses in a play of  panoramic landscape photography.

So here I am still with a smile, extracting sunshine from a cloudy day and fully resolved to make things pretty this week. You are always new, Oscar quips!

And the days will be a whippy "coconut delight" for me! Why not eh? Who's to stop me from my own brand of happy? Slopping up other people's gloom won't serve me any and I truly ought not allow bad vibes rant me up. One thing about negativity is it rides people and hops from one carrier to another - like a virus. You meet someone who met someone who was sneezing and soon enough you sneeze a bug too.  What better than to start  my week with an inoculation ritual, haha!

Surrounding myself with white light and a boost of Prism energy -- all colors at play in my day! Oh yes, that's it definitely-- the goal is to be a pendulum of energy, to infuse the minutes with color and vibrance and my own style of living.

Naturally, there could be glitches, and honestly even right now I'm not all that uppity about things. But I believe in something --  we are never alone, our muse and loving guides are here to cuddle and prod and lift us on. I believe this.

And with this in mind, I head off to write the plans that are whispered just for me. No comparing myself to others. No judging myself and saying why am' not like someone I perceive to be better - tis' a lie. And specially no judging of other people's ways and beings, but always a whispering of good thoughts and prayerful blessing sent out. Be me the smile of a flickering flame, dancing, alive and mysterious  making the darkest corners beautiful --  till the last movement of the last second of the last minute of this week closes at its gracefullest.


Source: google.com via Lady on Pinterest

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. of gardens i remember•ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥

Hear this....

"In My Neighborhood" 
~ Photo By: Roselle Quin

"Many of us have made our world so familiar that we do not see it anymore. An interesting question to ask yourself at night is, What did I really see today?" 
~ John O' Donahue, Anam Cara, A Book of Celtic Wisdom

Now and again when I walk the path leading out of our leafy lined subdivision, I am  inclined to stare at this house wishing it were mine. I could do so many things with a gate like that: maybe hang a gigantic flowery wreath, maybe paint it cream or white or a kind of patina green, maybe put in an ornate bronze knocker. It looks familiar actually, and it just occurred to me why.

Yes, I remember when as a child I would visit my "Papa Lolo's" house ( my late grandfather's elder brother) and the gate was a beautiful massive woodwork that looked very much like the photo I took.  Tucked beyond the imposing gate was a handsome garden home - in all manner and sense of the word garden! I'm not talking manicured lawns or dainty scented florals or delicate herbs. No. My grandfather's bother, just like him, was a truly ardent and very gifted gardener -- both possessed that perennial green thumb magic and could fashion what could pass for forests! Abundant fruit bearing majesty of trees, nothing less!

During visits, the gate would dramatically be opened and visitors were welcomed to a surprising oasis of a tropical forest garden with the house in all its red shingled bungalow Spanish splendor wrapped covetously around its wild green grounds. Mesmerizing! The lushness was opulent; the house itself so uniquely married to the luxuriant scene with its old fashioned red clay flooring, tall wooden walls, open wood beams and supported by a stone walled foundation resplendent in rustic romance. Everything was an enthralling splash of all possible hues of green, brown, rust, earth and nature --> complete with cats. A lot of cats!

It was an expansive home with no modern conventional door. Instead,  the house ushered you first into a porch, and then inside pine wax scented confines through a slate wooden sliding entrance that stayed open to the sight of Eden, more or less throughout the day. It was quite literally like living smack dab in the woods.  Very enchanting. The drone of a hum-drum world outside was drowned by chirps and rustles and cicadas. The ordinary road with its wonted living ceased to ostensibly exist, and one might in drinking in the impressive change of scenery, be taken to think of fairy elementals commonly (and quite seriously) regarded as a living part of nature in those days. 

And those days are gone. 

And it makes me wonder what became of the forest home of my grandfather's brother. All relatives have migrated to different parts of the cold western hemisphere and last I heard the house had been sold. Nobody lives in the old town anymore. Ah, but anyway, that picture above, it gives back precious memories of charming childhood days and transports me to an era when I could so casually wander and lose myself under the canopy of garden trees. Leaves quite a cheerful gentle feeling really.

And this is what I see...

Taking from what I just wrote, I know how my week will go by -- soothing, gentle, refined and angelically revealing.  I feel assured and guided, full and powerful. I have traveled a distance and arrived.  There will be matters to think of, but answers will manifest and peace will prevail. There will be plenty of sunshine to grow plants and dreams. And in the late late afternoons deliciousness will waft from my kitchen. And in the evenings there will be good food and stories and merriment around my table. And before late into the evening a spot of peace with me and my book. This is my garden of a life. This is my Lady Prism living. 

Thursday, October 4, 2012

sexy lingerie, cat bites, listening to your heart, green creatures and this demented world

 Don't let yourself feel worthless: often through life you will really be at your worst when you seem to think best of yourself; and don't worry about losing your "personality," as you persist in calling it: at fifteen you had the radiance of early morning, at 20 you will begin to have the melancholy brilliance of the moon, and when you are my age you will give out, as I do, the genial golden warmth of 4 pm. 
~ F. Scott Fitzgerald


I open Facebook and I am welcomed by entrancing pictures, enlivening quotes, and dearsome' messages ( as do my pinterest, haha!) 

 -- To me, it's all about the visual impetus of basking in a planetary cyber fusion of poetry, fashion, cookery, architecture - art. It quickens, enlivens, suffuses my creative cerebral with muscle strength for beauty. A coiffed cupcake teases my eyes, animates my senses, and suddenly it isn't a mere sweet sponge blob anymore - FB frosted it with royal "respect."  My heart goes dub-dub and I walk buoyant to face my day poised in inspiration and mild exuberance, that quite often flourishes as the hours roll by. 

And then, there are the Facebook cats, of course. And the honest intimation of friends, always and forever endearing no matter how forthright or prosaic. Such is the pulse of affectionate living.

Lately however, screaming between  artsy' updates, (and far more frequently for comfort)  is a glaring stream of what is wrongterribly horribly hideously wrong with the world: crime, injustice, perversion, brutality, you name it! I'm no Pollyana, I know there's always something putrid going on. But as one who refuses to be intimate with traditional media, I'm aghast that atrocity, a hundred notch higher, now haunts even my closeted cyber realm. The world is toying with insanity and no escaping how it fugs' real bad. Wormy travesty would surely eat my insides ill if I'm not careful.

Why, just before heading here, I read a post about a h-e-i-n-o-u-s crime committed a step away from where I live, while in a parallel part of the globe, an assault of the same nature at the same time. Oh why can't evil people collectively foam in the mouth and die! 

If I were a morbid cynical fundamentalist  I'd say everyone's gone bonkers. The world needs to go for therapy - breathe, talk things over, relax, get a grip, hah!

It's NOT all cruddy of course, and by tomorrow's early morning lemon juice I'd be up with a whiff of hopeful refreshing once again. After all,  joie' de vivre' still taps in spite of what seems to be galactic maelstrom.

There is still the rising of the sun, the chirpy no cares of birdies, oh thank God for birds, really! And there are still kisses and hugs and little sweet choco- cupcakes and raspberry tea and vintage stores in the oddest corners where I get my secret stash of old fashioned I'm- the- only- one- who - has - this - sexy lingerie. And there are fresh Tuesday blooms at my fave flower shop which I buy cheap. So if at this moment like me you refuse to listen to the drone of this thorny world then --->

Listen to your heart. If you can;t hear what it's saying in this noisy world, make time for yourself.

Yes, make time for yourself. I used to think it was selfish to do so and I wallowed in a darky corner of my doing, sniffling and smug and sucking my smile in. Not anymore. 

The other day I set off pretty early for my cat bite injection ( stepped on the fanged mother cat)  and consequently, walked past the city park where the prettier cafe's are. I spied a fancy one open (and it wasn't even 8 am), so asked myself if I should indulge a cuppa' at double the price of a 24 hour McCafe.  It was a beautiful day, and the moment was worth a fancy velvet frilly place ( ah, at 8 am with only me). I love that I did that, plus the capricious impromptu ( little) shopping too. Red rosy dress, oh yes! 


I love this creature, the earth,  no matter how harangued, bizarre and demented it can seem sometimes. With all it's pockmarks of wars, crimes and other bulbous boils of botheration, there exists what is real:  family, friends, pets, plants, poetry, books, quiet coffee corners and grilled oysters! Yes, we all make it still -- a wonderful world! 

Friday, September 28, 2012

kissing the earth

Stone Steps To The Dormitory
"Walk as if you are kissing the earth with your feet." ~ Thich Nhat Hanh

Had I not slipped through that spiral blackhole ( I'd like to call it) this early month of September then I wouldn't posses the gift of this spring of refreshing inside me. Light again!

Last night he said ( over a bowl of favorite clam soup) how I looked - softer. I know what he meant - that I had glided back to the calmer, serene, tender shores of me.

♥ It was a beautiful affectionate evening kindled alight with the sentimental glow of candles - quite like the special ones I prepare, only last night charm charitably primed its own - perhaps it was the grandmother moon, (looking in from out my window), graceful and mysterious, who blessed and eased and gifted my soul with her soft glow...perhaps.

Enjoy your own company. Let your mind wonder among the stars.

- Which reminds me how the other night when sleep wouldn't bid my flutters and finally, throwing aside my old cotton covers I gave  in to wakefulness and stepped out into the night. Barefoot on solid ground, kissing the earth in my little garden with feathery grass cool to the feet - I felt like a child delighted! It was a chance endowment, a fortuitous adoration to have looked up to the clear vastness and witnessed how brilliant and pulsating alive the theatrical night sky was! At play it was dazzling!

And I wondered, how many could possibly be looking heaven up this same moment that I am? Could there be - someone? Because I tell you, if I sift through the fun and excitement of this life I'm living, none doth' ( i just have to use doth) compare to the mesmerizing experience of looking to the stars; a happy solitary, worshiping of twinkles at 2:48 am - assisting in the birth of a newborn morning. 

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

of miracles

People usually consider walking on water a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either in water or thin air, but to walk on earth. Everyday we are engaged in a miracle we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes. All is a miracle. ~ Thick Nhat Hanh
my art

But why so much inner chaos within me the past few weeks?  I trudged with tears the rolling weight of rocks, and with a liquid of loneliness that bore through the soupy marrows of my being, and with a wild child tantrum clawed around the cartilages of my bones.  It was a different woman I had no recognition of that walked the way of my body those days. Life was a spiraling blur.

-- and to Answer: I had left myself open unprotected from the vile of this world! Like a gate unhinged, every prowler seeking entry was free to do so. Vulnerable, I allowed myself to absorb all the fear, the anger, the mindless chatter of a world absorbed in negativity. It is a weakness or a strength that I easily imbibe ( with a heightened sense) the intoxicating energy of a place ( or person), pulp bits of joy and felicity or -- fitful virulent impulses, the latter so lately contagious.

But I am grateful to my angels. They are all around me, these refined creative souls who reassure, ground and center time and again. Their healing potions tucked within the power of their words, splashes of pigments, composition and sound recapture what so genuinely resides within -- miracles, magic and charm, my belief. I am most grateful for their reaching out. I am not alone. Ever.

Monday, September 24, 2012

The Beautiful Life

Find out where joy resides,
and give it a voice far beyond singing. 

For to miss the joy, is to miss all. ~ Robert Louise Stevenson

How to make a beautiful life.
Love yourself. Make peace with who you are and where you are at this moment in time.
Listen to your heart. If you can;t hear what it's saying in this noisy world, make time for yourself.
Enjoy your own company. Let your mind wonder among the stars.
Try. Take chances. Make mistakes.
Life can be messy and confusing at times but it is also full of surprises. 
The next rock in your path might be a stepping stone.

Be happy. When you don't have what you want, want what you have.
Make do. That's a well kept secret of contentment.
There aren't any shortcuts to tomorrow, you have to make your own way.
To know where you're going is only a part of it.
You need to know where you've been, too.
And if you get lost, don't worry.
The people who love you will find you. Count on it.
Life isn't days and years.
It's what you do with your time and with all the goodness and grace that's inside you.
Make a beautiful life.
The kind of life you deserve.

~ From Quotebites.com

Thursday, September 20, 2012

gathering enligtenment

Source: google.com via Lady on Pinterest
Source: flickr.com via Lady on Pinterest
   
My soul, my heart, my core is scab blistered. But before going on it feels I have to apologize to the ether for carrying on in such a bickering whinny' way the past posts ( and currently as well, wow, haha!). Then again to whom should I apologize? This is threatening to be even more "soap operatic" because literally the past days have proven my innate callousness stamped proven beyond reproach. My insides are knotted, my face tired and drawn, my spirit heavy with the conviction that I have "issues"; grave and must be faced squarely.

To look the monster eye to eye and let it know that it's unwelcome clingy'clutch is  dealt with is perhaps, part victory.

I hate it when this mangled fanged motion called anger takes a grip of my body and I am launched uncontrollably into a tirade of spite. Indeed, I am, I do, I admit it all. Shame wallows me and I walk the walk of the drunken burdened who sways and swoons whatever way.

Awhile ago I came upon this quote, and no better time could it have been for me to read:

It is wisdom to know other;
It is enlightenment to know one's self.
~ Tao te Ching

Hear ye' hear ye! Couldn't be truer and more appropriate. Tis' best and maybe brave to paint one's self honest. Humbled.

t

Saturday, August 18, 2012

waiting


He will turn 23 next month, and here I am still up, waiting, waiting for him to be home -- safe and sound well in bed in what will most likely be the wee' fresh breath morning of a Sunday. That is how it is, this whole twang of being a mother, no matter the age of your child, the being up, here, there, PRESENT, even if it be annoying ( to them, the young 'uns, yes, because I was specifically told before he stepped out at 9 to NOt wait UP) or ignored, nevermind. It is an impulse, automatic, a reflex, the body resisting rest, quivering in wakefulness as if the very cells of me are jolly occupied in a party of coffee - caffeinated energy at 1 am. Fine.

Life happens in stages.

Someday soon they will be on their own..and I will think back to this...the wake-full-ness...and I know I will be thankful that LIFE was kind enough to grant me these someone's that are etched in my heart, to wait for them, when they were young...and still in this home...

perhaps I will miss..the waiting.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

STRESS and Finding Grace in Whatsoever Things

My artworkie! :D
STRESS!
is the feeling of being a confused hungry locked guinea pig in a sopping wet cage with no free range time ever! If I could just... juST...JUST literally crumple, rip, and stomp the word itself with as much belching oooomph' of a blow, fug it out to oblivion, oh man, my friend, would I! 

To think that I've been wifey' for 23 years and a mom for 22, wow! Shouldn't I have it all together by now? Calm, collected, wise, comforting, a pole of strength, a river of rushing wisdom, feminine sage, the LIGHT??

Can I please be ALL that, NOW, the purrfect me in my mind? Seriously, I am an overgrown human hissing cat! Right now there is nothing at all remotely "enchanted" about moi' hahaha! Forgive me, but I am and most likely will ALWAYS be a colossal mass of inner hysteria when any one of my boys ( my hubby included :) is sick.

So it is, shucks, whether your child is 1 or 21 it's still the same gut wrenching wearing your heart-out-on your-sleeve ache! You bleeeeed without the ooze of red thick liquid. It is a trauma that leeches out of your every pore, your every follicle, a painful throb out of your every intake and exhale of breathe.You want to butt-head the ill feel, kiss that offending boo-boo away, hover, fuss, take the yolk of suffering unto yourself -- Oh ugh' I am dopey' simpering drama and can't help it. I'm a mommy and I WORRY (yes, even if he is 21 and not 1!).

Thank the gracious God, right now I think he (my son) is getting better; not as much coughing and no fever and he smiled - i know a smile like that. There is still the long tonight to observe -- and tomorrow I'd still insist he take another blood test. It's a bad bout of flu, BUT I want to make sure...like thoroughly clear my aching heart ( and head) sure it's a seasonal flu, period. Hah, and now it is my hubby sniffling and sneezing and all puffed watery eyed...and my eldest asked for a paracetamol...shazam!

So what does one do in a week of gut churning emotions? Clean - maddeningly! Chop down trees ( yes, I did -- they weren't really THAT big). Make a bonfire of the piles of leaves. Battle garden ants. Drink Coke lite ( instead of tea). Make art (somehow) then stop midway, walk here and there with a plastered smile showing spurious tenacity. Plus, do everything else in a half  dazed zombie semblance of one's self  while attending to patient.

I miss my BLISS! I miss smiling and combing my hair! I miss sanity! Thank goodness for fantastic photos like this one (below) I gleamed from Pinterest , It is just amazing! I adooore how colors and books and wine and odd dippity shapes blended together-- this is so my homey' style! The whole story can be found here:

 --> Natalie's Beach Girl Meets Book Nerd Nest


Of course, all sour days must pass ( a cycle of pain and birth it is)  and life is beautiful the way we make, stir or blend it. Let me meditate on an ancient wisdom I love..." whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things." ~ Philippinas 4:8

So yes, I do. Grateful still that there is grace in every whatsoever little thing.

Monday, July 23, 2012

Liquid Wisdom ♥L❀VE ♥

I believe we are called to the duty of delight. ~ Dorothy Day
 ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥L❀VE ♥´¯`•.¸¸.•   

Tired, tired, tired, tired,  tired! And there is still dinner to take care of. I must, simply and most truly prepare something special tonight as the hubby had been quite giving ( and understanding) about the take in dinners I presented two evenings (or 3? ) in a row. My trusted Lady Help is sick and hasn't been able to come for her regular duties in assisting me with the keep of my home. And with those five days soaked in storm, even that big mess in my eenie' front tree yard had to be dealt with by me and me alone. Exhausted am I. 

But even with this tiredness clinging to my very bones, there is this deep sense of bonding with the walls I feel; like the spirit of my homey' and I just shared a secret day of being only "you and me" together. Everything is more peaceful and cozier.
´¯`•.¸¸.• 
The storm has passed, my help will be in tomorrow, a hot bath is running for me right now, and later still the presence of my husband and sons will fill this home. Not to forget, a late cup of green tea before dinner will be enjoyed. I am blessed.

♥ Listening to the beautiful Chopin Compendium

Monday, July 16, 2012

just being quiet with me


You must not ever stop being whimsical, and you must not, ever, give anyone else the responsibility for your life. ~ MaryOliver
 *”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥  
Two points. First, to always be whimsical: I can do whimsy. Second, to never give anyone the responsibility for your life. Hmm...poetic profound and so to the face.

It's a Monday afternoon and I am sick. Not as sick as I was yesterday but definitely out of whack. What a shame to start the week weepy, wallowed and wilting -- oh! my! haha! 

No, I will fight this. I cannot give anyone the responsibility for my life. Must must must pull myself up, mend and not pathetically wait for anyone to make me feel better. Yes, even if this bug makes me perceive everything ( even yesterday and tomorrow ) in such a mass of grey clouded disdain, I musn't  drown in morose thoughts but be present to life's prettiness and whatever small event to be thankful for.

Grateful for:
1. Having finally started doing my art (once again). How brave of me.
2. Pretty inspiring sites and started a Tumblr roll of it. Fun!

I will get my groove back once again for sure. Right now there is a mothering of myself needed, I admit. As much as my home is a space of  contentment and I am deeply devoted to family, I feel that a part of me wishes for more solitude. More just being quiet with me.

And this quote by Fitzgerald brought a smile to my sicky blue' day....

"It was only a sunny smile, and little it cost in the giving, but like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living."
~ F. Scott Fitzgerald 
Having fun with: Midsummerprism Tumblr
and fun too at Lady Prism Pinterest

Sunday, July 1, 2012

the silver born in you


Dream. So me. I am utterly captivated! I found this photo on Pinterest followed the link and was in transit magically into the whispy world of "Romany Soup" by blessedwildapplegirl. I don't normally use other's photos ( in fact this, I believe is the first time ever) so I scouted for permission and there it was. --> link back. And who wouldn't want to "share" her tapestry of heaven, eh? I see myself here, table and all ( because I have the same table with flowerettes and the tea pot and the greens and  the apples and pears and nestled by a window too) looking out into the street. I found the perfect description for my current moment.
Visit Romany Soup. Prepare for magic.

♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ    
" Do not take away the rose,
the lance flower that you pluck,
the water that suddenly 
bursts forth in joy,
the sudden wave,
of silver born in you "
~ Pablo Neruda
♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ    


This week I will be charmed. There. I declare myself married to poetry and writing and (my ) art. YES,   until my veiny veins morph into tendril baby vines of inspiration and pappy petal buds of pretty creep out my very pores and grow me  into a daisy - or a primrose, whichever, no matter,  it would be  the true juicy flower soul of me  zoetic! A licentious menage a' troit  ( none of the Shelley scandal, haha!) of the most wanton creative kind - if I may say so - for this is who I am.  And is now my life. And will be my sparkling fabulous future. Thus be it. Thus be! Thus be!


It has come to a brazen point where I have to think "par-si-mo-nious-ly" of myself ( i am chilled to say that word -- MYSELF for it feels criminal  and so selfish ) ; to let go and not be so phobic of the future, not so clingy to the present, not be into my ( wee' grown up early 20's) boys' faces - ( to put it mildly, because having young adults in the home, in all honesty is quite a challenge. I hover still. This mommy has to grow up. Sigh). 


The unshackling! I give myself permission to come to me and bless my flair and wit and not be encumbered by "irrelevance" ( circumstance or  person); to nurture mind with beauty and insight, and nourish my soul with the refinement, the elegance of the enchanted present that renders itself before me; like that hazy' waft of misty rain that fell softly and danced before my very eyes painting the tree lined road a sight so zen. i see magic i know. a world behind the curtain of this world i see.  


"burst forth in joy...the sudden wave of 
silver born in you." 


I will.