leonada’s missing earring

she worried about perfection
ha, worry
nearly she was
face, figure
form, function
she appreciated the way men’s eyes melted into her mocha skin
women, well they frowned
she was too much
they didn’t have enough of what she had
everything was together for her
for leonada
until the morning she woke
and discovered
an earring missing
the pair had been carved from ancient volcanic rock
blessed by a miraculous shaman, now gone from this world
the earrings were light and
in their lightness
embodied spirituality to leonada
no one else ever moved in this close to her satin mocha
no one
just these earrings

now one was not a pair
and leonada’s underground eyes never welled
until this day
but only for a short while
she gazed long into her long mirror
then in one sweep – a seagull wing breezing the ocean
she hung the blessed earring to her lobe
her dark stallion hair tamed into a hoop of matching size
she turned away from her long reflection
and swayed out the door into the day
a small smile unfurling at the edges of her full lips

I woke with eyes blurry
window shades drawn
my bedroom black though the sun was rising
I smiled at the little glowing lights in my room
one each from the clock radio, the DVD player, the smoke detector
I imagined them
bright stars in a magical night sky
that’s what leonada
would have seen
I too, began my morning with a blessed smile
Leonada
and this, Leonada ends my subbing fashion sketches – thank you
may your day begin with a small smile

Miss Direction

Put your trust in the sky
she’s old and has been around
covering the world since inception
Put your faith in the sun
he’s a gentleman who
lives to share his warmth
Put your love under the moon
she will protect your dreams
and all who enter them
Put your human in your hands
let’s give ourselves
a fighting chance
Put your soul in your heart
fighting is for love
not war
Cloven with HeartI’ve shown Cloven several times now, she’s one of my favorites
Sometimes we humans can learn much from our brother and sister
animal friends, if we’d only follow their directions

past echoes

There is an oddness in the distance
faceless voices
disappearing 
between the rush of cars
Years ago, it would have been a herd of cattle

running for the lunch bell
on the road
, past my house

I sit on the front porch
perched on a yellow plastic Adirondack chair
drinking wine from a tumbler
pretending it’s a brown bag
and fantasizing I don’t have to work

Those faraway voices 
echo now
like dairy farmers’ spirits
loading Bessie’s milk onto Old Erie railroad cars
bound for the city

Retired sounds 
I imagine floating up
to the sun that once fed the cows golden grass

The birds, the flitty ones
with bright yellow bellies like my chair
flutter by my porch

saying their good nights or goodbyes
depending on how cold
this early autumn eve turns

warbler

long-winded happiness

so many struggling
wanting more than ‘millimoments’ of euphoria
wondering where to find this fickle contentment
happiness
a promised aftereffect of the human condition
what if
we’re not supposed to be searching
what if
cheerful reflection is too deep in the wishing well
perhaps earth isn’t designed for constant contentment
wouldn’t sunup be iridescent blue
stars illuminate pathways to lovers
tides even-flow with the heavens
maybe
happiness is more like the wind
unpredictable
rustling leaves and racing clouds
never settling
what if
we took solace in these haphazard thermals
where seeds still take root
winged beasts soar
and cool air displaces sweating flesh
let’s not search for happiness
let’s take comfort in its randomness
knowing we’ll all eventually be found

Autumn Leaves

I’ve published this little gal a few times, she keeps wanting to be seen…

the five mountains: a little saggy humor

kids,
as you saunter down the road of life
skippin’ down arbitrary routes
some planned, others not so much
there’s gonna be five mountains

you’ll notice after comin’ round that first mountain
some of the sun grabbed at your skin while you were playin’ outdside
there are a few epidermical things you didn’t start out with
continue on passed the shadow-casting, grandfather clock
ignore him, he likes clangin’ abruptly

you’ll notice after comin’ round that second mountain
the moon tugged a bit too hard during those deep nights
gravity’s mojo is wearin’ off and things are lettin’ loose
continue on passed the sexy, glass timepiece modeled after Sophia Loren
even she can’t stop the sands from pourin’

you’ll notice after comin’ round that third mountain
the last two mountains are now obliterated from view
there are boxes and jars everywhere with taped promises of renewal
along with heavy-duty inversion boots and a thick pamphlet:
how to minimize life’s lines by hanging upside down just ten minutes a day

you’ll notice after comin’ round that fourth mountain
the journey has been exceptionally difficult
you’ve been tryin’ to walk on your hands
while wearin’ your heavy-duty inversion boots
you decide it’s time to retake control of your feet

you’ll notice after comin‘ round the fifth mountain
you shoulda stayed on your feet round the fourth
you start laughin’ at yourself with teeth that may or may not be yours
and then there it is, the reason you made it round all those other mountains
your old friend

a smile
remember?
the one you were born with… 🙂

Sexy Skeleton

Sexy Skeleton

Born months ago with Prisma pencils, I’ve shown this gal a few times, she always makes me smile 🙂

…and now for mountain six…

Glow Little Glow Worm

Here’s  a little something sure to lighten your heart. I love 1940’s-50’s music and I adore the Mills Brothers. My dad would often play his Mills Brothers records when I was a kid. Their clear harmonious voices made him smile, they made me smile too. I hope you enjoy Glow Worm as much as I do. Below the boys’ video, you’ll find another friendly glow worm (well, okay – he’s really a snake – sshhh – please don’t tell him) 🙂

Sss

Sss

May your dreams be bathed in warm moon glow and happy glowworms 🙂

SSS done with Prisma a few months back – previously posted

Mojo’s Tail

The simplicity of a dog’s tail measuring more than temperature. How that tail remains alert until its owner unearths a treasure. A perfect ball – mushy, once yellow – perfect just the same. It’s Mojo’s treasure. The purity of finding bliss. Wind be damned. The grey sky an extemporaneous play with an early curtain call. How Mojo’s tail flies – a noble waving banner from the winning side. The captivating colors of victory unfurl. Mojo’s tail is happy as is he – by extension…
mojo gardenmojo in snowMay you dream of finding singular happiness in the simple things…
Mojo’s pics snapped this blustery morning.
Red wolf (endangered) with a happy tail created last week with marker and pencil.
red wolf

Peace and Homemade Applesauce

Dear Friends,
For the last six days, my home was filled with family and friends. My pantry, garage and fridge were packed with food. Twenty-six people shared Thanksgiving at my table(s). Including my immediate family, nineteen people slept under my roof until saturday. It was – as promised – our annual Thanksgivingpalooza. But, the past few days of insanity, loudness and laughter were wrapped up warmly in homemade applesauce, 3 turkeys and a ham.

I sit here now alone in my studio tapping keys to speak. The dishwasher is the only thing chattering. My mom and dad left about an hour ago. The giant husband and delicate daughter are both at work. The big son is at a friend’s house. I’m here with Rocky the Shepherd and Mojo the Dachshund wishing they’d kept up with their ESL lessons. Rocky is a bit sad like me. Mojo is happy because he’s no longer being carried like a strapless handbag.

Every year as much as I wish for peace and quiet by day four of Thanksgivingpalooza, I realize it’s only the quiet that returns. Peace can be loud, insane and crazy wrapped up warmly in homemade applesauce, 3 turkeys and a ham.
Clown AroundThank you. May you dream of a life filled with friends, family and warm applesauce.
Sad Clown created a month ago, waiting for the right moment to share…