September Reign/Rain

I sketched myself as Virgin de Guadalupe and wrote this poem in September. Better late then never player.

As it thundered and stormed

she prepared to leave

all-weather she was

Come inside! yelled the fretful

You won’t survive! yelled the fearful

like an owl her head turned to face them one last time

is this what you call living?

resting fearfully on the periphery of your so called humanity

Inside these boxes – surviving

this could be your last September she said to them all

silence weighed heavy on the moment

nothing was the same

they could never go back

true colors had been shown

from the lessons she had grown

You can live this life faithfully or live it fearfully

not my business either way she said with a smile

good luck in this lifetime

Now it’s time for me to live mine

stepping into the storm she became one

with the wind

the rain

the pain

and burst into golden light

Transcending the bullshit

Hello October

Are you ready to start over?

Rooting for revival

Sketch by Me

She sat silently resting in the forest of her heart.

We can remain stuck in fear & holding on to the past, or we can use our past experiences to move confidently into the future. – Tanaaz

These words echoed throughout the canyons of her mind as strong winds of change began to blow in and around her.

Two cardinals flew by with a message.

When the roots are deep, there is no need to fear the wind. – Unknown

She stood faithfully and fearlessly in the forest of her own heart as her body began moving forward in time with the divine.

And so it is.

Sonic symphony for forward motion: https://music.apple.com/us/playlist/is-she-flying/pl.u-zPyLLJPFxA8RER

Retrograding Woman/ Venus

There are four fire signs fistfighting in the fifth house

Venus must be retrograding

I laugh to myself

Mostly sure my Karmic debits are paid

God closed my eyes for a few moments to  remind me to feel

That is what will heal

Once so worried about using my eyes forgetting  to feel the vibe

Almost left the tribe

I smile now

That’s past and I ’ve learned to appreciate the contrast

A little more than $2 to my name and no desire for fame

I smile

It’s been a while since I’ve be here in the clear with no fear

There are four fire signs fistfighting in the fifth house

Venus must be retrograding

But it’s okay because love is on the way

 

 

Storm King Art Center

I visited Storm King Art Center yesterday. It was divine. The sculptures made me think a lot about proportion and perspective. I felt tiny standing in the open fields with the massive art and large and infinite within. Balance. Perspective. Proportion.  I felt the bigness of the ideas of those artists. Every vista was visually illuminating. We are all deserving of beautiful space to create.   As I waited for the bus at the end of the day I watched the leaves fall -performance art. *Laughs Below are a few pictures and the link to the Storm King Art Center. Sidenote: Aziz Ansari’s Master of None, season 2 episode nine 9 featured this museum. Check that out too if you didn’t already binge watch it the day after it came out. I love that show.

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Art by: Ursula von Rydingsvard-Luba; Alyson Shotz- Mirror Fence; Zhang Huan- Three Legged Buddha; Tal Streeter; Endless Column; Heather Hart- Outlooks; Andy Goldsworthy- Storm King Wall; Menashe Kadishman; Suspended

Dream Teacher

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful teacher. Her classroom was filled with art and big floor to ceiling windows that allowed for the sun’s golden rays to pour in. Other teachers thought of her as a bit unorthodoxies. But that was OK. She knew what she was here to do and the thoughts of others would not distract her.

She had requested her children be allowed to have a longer nap time. She wanted each of her students to be able to wake up in their own way. Waking up was a beautifully unique experience and she felt it in her heart, right in the God space, that this was the lesson that they must learn for their lives. She wanted them to learn to respect and value their dreams and the dreams of others and appreciate the present from an awareness of the connection between their dreams and their realities. You see, their dreams would create their realities. She placed flowers and luscious plants around the classroom, and played soft affirmations throughout the day, she talked about feelings and colors, and what they meant. She taught them to list the things they were grateful for and to appreciate Mother Earth as they connected their toes to the soil. She helped them to understand the complexities of negatives, positives, and balance. All of these things were to fertilize the soil of their subconscious and to enrich the roots of the trees that she hoped would bear healthy fruit in their conscious minds.

She had one little one that never seemed to need to sleep so she didn’t force her. She provided that little old soul with loner tendencies new tasks to complete during nap-time. Sometimes the little girl helped to get the snacks ready or she read books. Sometimes the teacher asked her to draw pictures of what her life looked like in vast detail and sometimes she simply sat in silence swirling in the present. She wanted the little girl to understand that though her classmates were not awake she was not alone and that she could still begin to actualize her dreams in that silence. She could learn, grow, and create in that silence. That was a blessing.

Each day the children would begin to stir around the 33rd minute of the hour.
Two or three would wake up early stretching it out and moving back to their seats, chitter-chattering along the way connecting simply because they had woken up first. On occasion, she had to check their little attitudes because they seemed to think that it was a race, that because they were first to wake up that somehow they were more special. They had not realized that her little helper, her little old soul had been awake the whole time creating in the quiet. She thought it curious that her early risers tried to guide the old soul as if they knew it all. This made her laugh. One afternoon she held the old soul’s hand and looked deep into her wide eyes and reminded her to listen to her own voice. It had gotten strong in the silence. She could trust that voice. She could use that same voice to tell those little egos to mind their own destiny. After a while, the early risers stopped with this conscious competition. They learned that it caused them to miss out on knowledge and blocked their blessings and actually slowed them down. They took on a new role.

The early risers learned to love on and help the sleeping dreamers who woke up crying. Sometimes waking up is scary and you need some soothing. She had some little ones that would wake up ready to run outside and play. Let’s go! they would shout. There were others that would wake up and just lay there processing. They would rise and take their places. She had some that would wake up and fall back asleep and wake up and fall back asleep. She knew that she would have to assist them in breaking this pattern. The time for dreaming is over. Be fearless and get up. There are beautiful things waiting, but they can’t wait forever she said firmly but loving as she gently shook their shoulders. It was time to start tuning in. It was time to start living in the present moment.
Nap time was special. The sleeping dreamers would become the reality creators. The teacher thanked God every day that she could be there in sunshine filled rooms filled with art to teach the children to dream to believe to actualize. Because one day the sleeping dreamers would elevate the whole world.
God bless the sleeping dreamers and the reality creators.