Sometimes Painting a Dog

I hope you and your loved ones are well.

I believe every human being should paint a dog. This is our Mojo. My daughter, who will miss him when she leaves in August to study Sustainability, asked me to paint his endearing face for one of her blank walls.

Mojo


I’ve been on a personal mission to improve my word and art mind while trying to avoid deep media dives. I generally remain off-politic on this site, maintaining this space as my creative respite. But there’s so much going on out there, and I worry what this world will be like for my young adult children and their future families. The heat isn’t only climate-related.

I believe every human being is entitled to:
be whoever they believe they are
love whoever they choose
A woman’s body is her own as are her personal choices
I pray my daughter has the freedom to make her own choices
(Mojo’s background was originally purple, my daughter requested more earthly tones:) )

mojo purple

My Blue Boys in “THE BARK”

I’m so very proud to have an essay and portrait in The Bark, a wonderful online magazine dedicated to man’s best friend.
Tributes is a special online section dedicated to stories about our beloved dogs past.” —The Bark
Click image or highlighted text to visit, The Bark!

I hope you and all those in your loving circles are managing during these difficult days.❤️

4:20 am

My poem “4:20 am” published in the weekly Avocet – a magazine focusing on nature and all its breathtaking wonder.

Baby Elf

my poem “4:20 am” (attached below) is in the weekly Avocet – issue #262 –
 Avocet link if you’d like to submit writing to this important publication for Mother Earth

 

4:20AM

frost creeps into the holes of my old moccasins

the taffy-stretched shadow of a red sunset maple

reaches across the dark grass

as if she too

desires the moon’s infinite perfection

stars tuck away in their opaque shells

this is autumn’s whisper

 

I peek through my eyelashes

must commit to memory

must etch my soul with rehearsed minutes

before tomorrow’s living

rubs out this wonder

 

4:30AM

I remain frozen in my silent place

knowing the sun will wipe away

the beautiful moon

this pristine silent moment

don’t want to go back inside a walled house

 

wish I could honestly tell you

a love affair with nature

enticed me from my bed

 

at 4:15 AM

my Dachshund needed to pee

baby elf sketch created a few years back with pencil

my pink dog

dear God
I seem to have lost my faith
the pixie-haired girl stuck
to a weathered pink dog with stale bubblegum
has stumbled too low
to be found in my dreams
her memories as diaphanous as Christmas spirit
present only if you’re willing to believe
Lord, somewhere while seeking gold
my pick-axe and pan rusted
jewels of this earth
fake gems plastered in false promises
my pink pup disintegrated long ago
nothing to grab onto now
no faith to embrace
no shield to burnish
stamped with the devil’s pitchfork
locked inside life’s eternal circle
the sign of peace
we alight here in this place
our time measured in a fish eye blink
lays out no global welcome mat
too many starving toes crowding “welcome”
and the rubber rainbow has discolored
beneath this vast azure roof
no one shares a meal together
I’m gonna tell you something, Lord
despite this miraculous ability to hate
that we’ve been granted
my greatest fear
is the moment
I believe these words
I’ve just written
the pink dog is still tucked away safely inside my heart

My Charlie

My Charlie

 

may she sparkle

Caroline detail

Caroline detail

Didn’t think much about it. I seldom do. Heard it was difficult. It is. She’s going off to become whatever it is she wants to become. She will be a student of sustainable agriculture. I ventured into Mad Men territory while in school. We are different that way. The best way possible. She will try to effect agricultural change. Make an earthly impact. Walking our Dachshund this morning (still miss my Shepherd) gazing down at the road thinking back to those days–trying to remember lessons for her. The rocks and tar rolled out then rumbled flat. There are cracks and joint fixes. Sparkles of glass and dull-faced stones. Her life will be like this road. Combinations of things adhered together, splitting sometimes, getting fixed or not, hot in the heat, icy in the cold–dangerous at times. Her feet will walk as she destines they should–barefoot or booted. She will be smart and she will not be smart. Go off to study abroad. Maybe fall in love or at least what she thinks is. I pray she will be happy. I know to ask for ‘always’ is unrealistic. She is so much more confident than I was at that age. I’m hoping enough to keep her out of situations. When one doesn’t like who they see each morning in the glass, trouble follows. I didn’t think she would be teary-eyed. She is. But she is also excited. Imagine, it’s all shiny right now…may it glisten for a long while. This place is more raw than ever. And they all know it. Let them enjoy the sparkle in a bubble while they can pretend.
caroline largerphoto detail-Caroline, age 18
above, painting detail, from a larger portrait-Caroline is 8

let cling to our skin

they cling to the legs
Ignorance and Want
beneath rich velvet robes
two malnourished beings
present in Their suffering
we remain focused on our priorities
during this season of hope and love
wrap tenderly our hearts
with Their existence
let us go forth
in humble spirit
and grand charity

fiercefor Rocky
Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
The Ghost of Christmas Present

she followed me home

the version tonight
I do not like her
the woman who came home
that one
she followed me
had the nerve to walk in my shoes
into the house
in soles not made for stomping
yelling in a voice that should be singing
she’d said
the other version, the one I like
warned me awhile ago
things might get a little ugly
like a volcano
festering stuff below the tonsils
when that one gets angry
she’s not pleasant
not even to the cute little dog
no one is safe
the only thing two extra legs buys you
when she’s in that mood
is a fast walk into a little crate
I hope when she finishes firing off all her rockets
she flattens into an autumn shadow
I want the person who entertains me
yea, the one who mostly laughs
even when it gives her smile lines

Pumpkin Sweet

Pumpkin Sweet

at the beyond

Nothing is the same
All the lights are on
yet the dark is oppressive
I imagine you’re out there
Dreaming
lets me smile
I think you’re in the next room
Pretending
is a talent of mine
I miss you completely
Maybe one day
we’ll be together again
at the beyond
when I grow tired of pretending
and short
of breath

Rocky

Rocky

missing you greatly, my dear friend and companion

The Magical Last Light

I’d like to share something that I’ve selfishly kept to myself for many years. It’s free and it’s beautiful.

My favorite moment occurs when conditions are just right: the sky is a foreboding grey, the sinking sun is well onto closing down for the day, and a gentle wind lifts the tree leaves like fluttering butterflies.

The moment begins when the sun’s last rays illuminate just the tree tops. Then it happens–lasting only a few surreal minutes. Nothing else can describe this sight except magical–the magical last light.
trees ligthIt’s truly spectacular. The interior light in my studio softens even the dogs take notice.
dogs studioIt’s like leaving Kansas for Oz…
color treesI hope you enjoyed this moment as much as I. If you take the time to seek out this light, you too will be reminded that all things are possible–even peace on earth…

Reworked old post from 2014, I thought fitting for today 🙂