♥ "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.

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

Alice Neel Painting from Pinterest

 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 wrong, terribly 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! 

I Was Just Talking About Happiness and Hair

Napa Wine Valley by: Lombardi

When I close my eyes this is where I go.
To the neatly patterned browns and collard greens,
and   blurred crimsons and sun kissed hues of this masterpiece,
I succumb. Lost; come find me.
I am given to much dreaming I suppose.

Half past midnight the other night, my husband had the distinct pleasure of being the lone audience to my chatter on the - wisdom - of - life. My life. (hehehe!) That he was apparently tired ( just a little bit) ) escaped me. What can I do? One must be a vessel of insight when the inspiration assaults!

I talked about "happiness" and how we, the people, of the earth, complicate and struggle to snag it. Verbosity floats out there. Happiness can be an online lesson, read between pages, lectured up on stage, preached at the pulpit, sang, planted and painted. As if one must be particularly skilled.

Or, happiness might be a resort valley you save up (plus,VISA) to vacation to. Happiness. So foreign in its someday. So if. So when. Faraway.

Look into people's eyes and you might see in degrees the play for someday. Someday I'll be happy, when I've arrived and if I have it!  Someday. If. When. Words detrimental to sanity.

The waking up in the morning, the coffee, the day's trade, callanetics, the grass,  the misunderstanding, the laughing, the being silly, the afternoon sunlight, coffee conversations, the deadline, the regurgitating cat, the angry word, the rude, the miscalculated risk, the stupid nonsense, cheap chocolate, tempranillo, the getting sick, the being surprised, the procrastinating, the exulting, the insulting, the forgiving,  latte with fattening whipped cream  and cluelessness...( all the other darn industry of life left unsaid ) - they and those and them are IT!

Happiness unadulterated is truly quite a fortune! The good, the bad, the ugly, the sexy, the whatever of now, rim it with your own brand of silver lining IS happiness. We simply take responsibility. 

For a year I wore my hair quite long. 

A week ago I cut it. By my own self, yes I did! Easy. 

Snip and snip and it was all done. 

Happiness. 

" There is always a question in your mind about something, and there is always an answer gift wrapped in the moments of your life."

~ Neale Donald Walsch

More on my happiness today:

• Reading Goddess Leonie; " How To Have A Miracle A Day"
• Reading Madelyn Mulvaney 
• Listening to this: "Oh Lori"
• Reading this book
• Of course I always read Carmen
• Poetry, poetry, poetry

Happiness I look forward to:

• My new batch of corporate folks to teach.
• Writing a good poem. It will come.
• Painting something pretty.
• A new friend. I don't know who, but there will be. There always is.

Monday Morning Resolve

Painting By: Berthe Morisot

"The better part of happiness
is to wish to be what you are. " ~ Desiderius Erasmus

Should I indulge in a second cup of coffee? I'm thinking in writing as I diddle on this thought. My mornings are sacred to me. I want them all to myself; hugging quiet, quaintly reflective, full of these lilting bird songs I am most blessed to hear considering that outside the confines of my gated living, the bombarding noise of a chaotic city thrives!

Even here, my home secluded and a tale afar from the main thoroughfare, I cannot escape the dribble tattle of noises, noises, noises: a plane flying overhead, the neighbors maid doing her morning laundry (the screech squeeze sound of scrubbing a mere rhythm to the stereo she has open ), a car and two and three every now and then, and now the other neighbor with her pots and pans. Inside my home, it is my cleaning lady, moving chairs, sweeping and dusting. Kindly, I send her on a brief errand if but to reclaim a moment of that perfect peace I had when I first woke up.

Ah, I know these are the sounds of life, but at 43 my mornings have taken a clearer definition to me, and I must do something ( wake up earlier, or change routines) to honor that early solace need that my soul craves. If only I could move to the mountains or have my home a walk to the sea. I cannot! Maybe, someday. Today I embrace the gifts that I presently enjoy:

• my pretty city cottagey' homey' ( and a community park to enjoy) 
• morning kiss
• a clear sparkly fresh morning,
• somebody to help me with chores, 
• that smile I had when I opened my eyes, 
• a resolve to have the day play out beautifully ( which means I am healthy of mind),
• a healing from almost 2 months of allergies and sinus attacks ( i can breath! I can breath!)
• and the most significant, a lifting of my spirits! 

Today I will accomplish what need be - and then some, like:

• writing my list of 100 things to enJOY for the rest of the year!  
• my lovely menu for the week ( and purchases that need be done) 
• plans for decorating, and my garden plantings too!

Most of all, I will take care of myself. This is a must. Only then can I have something to give of me to those I love.

Cherished

By: Trofimov Oleg

 ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥ •´¯`•.¸¸.♥

What can I do with my happiness?

How can I keep it, conceal it, bury it where I may never lose it?

i want to kneel as it falls over me like rain,

gather it up like lace and silk, And press it over myself again."   

         ~ Anais Nin

"Why do you  always smell sweet?"
He whispered -- his face slightly buried in my hair, our {tender} moment suspended - before he had to reluctantly pull away, walk to the door and lend himself to the day's hustle. It wasn't so much a question. It was a statement bestowed as an answer to itself.

A time ago, I won't bother to discern the exactness of hour, but it was when the light of the day drew golden shadows on leaves merry making to the mellow bliss of a contented February breeze, he took my hand and pressed it consciously on his lips. He let's go, gazes at it, smiles and tells me my fingers are perfect candles...it pleases him.

My days are pearls and lace and roses. How could I have forgotten, neglected, that we weave the love we adorn. Love presses itself over and over to my person. Enough of incessant snuffles,for life calls that I employ myself to happiness.

I sit here, contemplating,
how utterly grateful I am
to be eminently,
cherished.


The Lady Prism

About The Painting:

Trofimov Oleg has the most seductive paintings, truly! His masterpieces are undoubtedly gateways to visual paradise. There are several pieces of his which speak to me the most. and I do intend to share  those in my page. His beautiful paintings can be found here: OLEG TROFIMOV

Because My Life is My Art

November Morning Affirmation:
As written in my Facebook page, Wednesday, 10:12 am.

"May life bid that I leave each space I enter be it corner space, room space, the heart space of a family, friend or stranger I encounter, even the gap between spaces, a little more beautiful, because I was in it. -- I am surrounded by beauty. I see beauty everyday. I create beauty everyday. Deeply, my life is my art."

Boldly it was written. Meant to bolster my inner self to fixate on nothing but devoted value, I closed my eyes and inhaled one affirming breath. Every pore rejoiced in the conviction. And to this very click on my laptop, it remains the prayer

Moments cruise by and NOT everything I do aligns itself to the beauty I speak of. -- Maddening.-- Aftermath of faults weigh me in. A twitch of my mouth, a shake of my head betrays the insolence of my actions. Don't I even possess the prudence to keep back a sarcastic remark when irked? This and other pebble stone grievousness monkey in my mind.

IiI

"La Demoiselle de Magasin"
James Tissot

Pages in hurried counsel sweep through my frame: Art writings and biographies pass by my monitor, inundating me with elegant lessons about the living of those who seemed to have mastered life. Phantoms of genius unfurling as mists in my mind clamor;

"No, no, realize,  beauty is a juxtaposition - chaos and calm, delight and despair, confusion and order!Reality is pretty."

That my life and everything I throw helter - skelter into the canvass of it - the light and dark is a masterpiece that will not be ignored - the covered shadows giving depth to hallow points in order to focus the bright. Welcome to your life, they say. It is what it is and - it is beautiful. I believe so.

The life long learner sat across a teacher again.
Because, she called on beauty, it answered her plea.
My life, truly, is my art.

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