CASIMIRA

CASIMIRA
HERstory through ART
With words and images, I am telling my story.

Through art, I am remembering HERstory...

I've been blogging daily since 2007.

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Updated Daily: January 2007 - February 2020

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Sunday, February 28

believe

self-portrait

do you believe in prayer?

do you believe in miracles?

do you believe in love?

not just romantic love
not just physical chemistry
but unconditional love

do you believe in forgiveness?

do you believe?

I'll believe for you today...

Saturday, February 27

dulzura & calor

2009 mixed media
Dame la dulzura de tus labios
El calor de tu cuerpo
El placer de tus manos
El milagro de tu amor
Llename de ti y así los dos revalsaremos de pasión.

------------------------------------------

Tu eres mi cielo siempre rodeandome de amor.
Tu eres mi sol siempre dandome calor.
Tu eres mi luna siempre mi luz en la oscuridad
Yo te prometo ser lo mismo y crear para los dos un paraíso hasta la eternidad.

- Edda M. Sevilla Somoza (b. 1949)

Happy Birthday Beloved God Mother Tilly!

Friday, February 26

share it

self-portrait
do you embrace your magnificence?

the light within - the power of spirit

it is in each of us

embrace it

share it

our planet needs your light

humanity needs your spirit, your contribution

Thursday, February 25

let go

self-portrait from a series
she danced
for joy

she danced
for soul survival

she let go
surrendered to the dance
and found bliss

Wednesday, February 24

dreams

self-portrait from a series
the house
I dreamed with the house
again

my childhood summer home
from her bedroom window
one could see the blue waves and sand

a part of me is ready to live on the beach

what are your dreams telling you?

Tuesday, February 23

stay open

self-portrait from a series
Moments of guilt, moments of contrition, moments where we are lacking in self-esteem, moments when we are bearing the trial of being displeasing to ourselves, are essential to our growth.

- M. Scott Peck (1936-2005)

do you think you are perfect?

are you always right?

stay open...

Monday, February 22

healing begins

one of my crystals on top of hand-painted silk, circa 2004
from the depths of the mother earth

the healing begins

fire and light

believe you are whole

I woke up with these words in my mind, in my heart
and yet, I cannot remember my dreams

Sunday, February 21

house of angels

my son with one of my journals
a house of angels
candle-illuminated temple

haunting chants

she danced in the glow
she swirled in the grace

from last night's dreams

Saturday, February 20

in my dreams

self-portrait from a series
in my dreams

I am one with the wind

I merge with the mountains

I melt into the landscape of my soul

in my dreams I touch the face of Our Creator

and I awaken

Friday, February 19

es ella

self-portrait from a series
escucho su voz
en los vientos

obedezco sus consejos
en los sueños

siento las fragancias de rosas

es ella
la madre

es ella
la diosa

es ella
la niña y la mujer

When I write something in Spanish, it is a challenge to translate into any other language without losing the essence.

I hear her echo
in the winds

I obey her advice
in the dreams

I breathe in the fragrance of roses

she is
the mother

she is
the goddess

she is
the girl and the woman

Thursday, February 18

self-denial

self-portrait from a series
crescent moon mother smiled
as I trenched through ice and snow to the temple

the obese priest spoke eloquently of self-denial

the nun dug her thumb deep into the ashes
uttering REPENT as she marked my forehead

Wednesday, February 17

echoes of the thirst

sterling silver sculpture "BLOOM"
I woke up with echoes of this poem in my mind...
it is titled "The Thirst"
...lovers kissing in the midst of Mother Nature
LA SED by JUANA de IBARBOUROU

"Tu beso fue en mis labios
de un dulzor refrescante.
Sensación de agua viva y moras negras
me dio tu boca amante.

Cansada me acosté sobre los pastos
con tu brazo tendido, por apoyo.
Y me cayó tu beso entre los labios,
como un fruto maduro de la selva
o un lavado guijarro del arroyo.

Tengo sed otra vez, amado mío.
Dame tu beso fresco tal como una
piedrezuela del río."
what do you thirst for?

Tuesday, February 16

for the best

detail from a self-portrait
are we exactly where we are suppose to be?

does everything really happen for a reason?

for the best?


last night I dreamed with ghosts.

this morning I wrote about them.


I am painting with him at my side

he hands me a rose petal and laughs

Monday, February 15

Rubén Darío

mixed media, 2010, from an ongoing series
...her dark eyes
saw the apple in the garden:
with red lips
she tasted its nectar;
with red lips
that today know more than all the sages...

¿Eva era rubia? No. Con negros ojos
vio la manzana del jardín: con labios
rojos probó su miel; con labios rojos
que saben hoy más ciencia que los sabios.

Venus tuvo el azur en sus pupilas,
pero su hijo no. Negros y fieros,
encienden a las tórtolas tranquilas
los dos ojos de Eros.

Los ojos de las reinas fabulosas,
de las reinas magníficas y fuertes,
tenían las pupilas tenebrosas
que daban los amores y las muertes.

Pentesilea, reina de amazonas;
Judith, espada y fuerza de Betulia;
Cleopatra, encantadora de coronas,
la luz tuvieron de tus ojos, Julia.

La negra, que es más luz que la luz blanca
del sol, y las azules de los cielos.
Luz que el más rojo resplandor arranca
al diamante terrible de los celos.

Luz negra, luz divina, luz que alegra
la luz meridional, luz de las niñas,
de las grandes ojeras, ¡oh luz negra
que hace cantar a Pan bajo las viñas!

- Rubén Darío (1867-1916)

dare I attempt to translate a poem by one of Latin America's greatest?
perhaps just to give you a taste of this delicious verse...

...her dark eyes
saw the apple in the garden:
with red lips
she tasted its nectar;
with red lips
that today know more than all the sages...

Sunday, February 14

Azarías H. Pallais

2009 mixed media, husband's great uncle
Desde que era muy niño, saltaba de alegría,
cuando la fresca lluvia de los cielos caía.

Chorros de los tejados, vuestro rumor tenía
el divino silencio de la melancolía.

Los niños con las manos tapaban sus oídos,
y oyendo con asombro los profundos sonidos

del corazón que suena como si fuera el mar,
sentían un deseo supremo de llorar.

Y como por la lluvia, todo era interrumpido,
se bañaban las cosas en un color de olvido.

Y vagaban las mentes en un ocio divino,
muy propicio a los cuentos de Simbad el Marino.

Las lluvias de mi tierra me enseñaron lecciones... ...
con Alí Baba, pasan los cuarenta ladrones.

Y cantaban mis sueños en la noche lluviosa:
¡Lámpara de Aladino, lámpara milagrosa!

Y al caer de la lluvia, la criada más antigua
desgranaba sus cuentos en una forma ambigua.

Otro de los milagros que en la lluvia, yo canto,
es, que al caer sus linfas, se pone un nuevo manto

mi ciudad que al lavarse... ...yo pienso en una de esas
austeras e impecables ciudades holandesas:

Una ciudad lavada, sin polvo, nuevecita,
donde reza el aseo su plegaria bendita.

Como, “pulvère procul” se lee en los pergaminos
de un noble de otros tiempos, por todos los caminos,

Cuando pasan las lluvias, se alegra y se extasía,
lejos, lejos del polvo, la profunda alegría:

La de andar sin pecado, por silencios de amor,
como un dulce ojo de agua de inocente rumor.

Si se libra el camino, del polvo –su pecado-
se vuelve como el santo de Asís, enamorado

de todas las criaturas, de todas las criaturas,
y a todas les ofrece sus blancas aventuras.

Son todos los caminos como flor de aventura
para el dulce Quijote de la Triste Figura.

- Azarías H. Pallais(1884-1954)


today is the first day of Nicaragua's International Poetry Festival
hosted in the colonial city of Granada

this year, the celebrated poet is my husband's great uncle
Azarías H. Pallais

best known as Padre Pallais
regarded as a saint by many
a priest, a prophet, a poet
a man truly ahead of his time...

Saturday, February 13

ombligo de la diosa

2010 photograph from a series, that is baby's hand
todo comienza
en el ombligo de la diosa
hoyuelo sagrado de vida
en donde sueño existir

all begins
in the naval of the goddess
sacred furrow of life
where I dream of existing

Friday, February 12

mama mia, mama linda

2010 photograph
my son is only 18 months old
and is fascinated with Mother Mary

he calls her "Mama Mia" - "My Mother"
he calls her "Mama Linda" - "Beautiful Mother"

in this photograph, baby placed a favorite figurine in front of the window

perhaps he recognizes the sacred connection
between Mother Nature and Mother Mary...

Thursday, February 11

Alexander McQueen

Oyster Dress, 2003 photo courtesy of The Costume Institute
the mermaid queen

wished to live in layers of petals

out of shredded shipwrecked silk

he sculpted

theatrical decadence

birthing a pearl


in memory of Alexander McQueen (1969-2010)

Wednesday, February 10

trees telling me secrets

a lovely tree outside my window, inspiring an idea for sculpture
I absolutely adore the contrast of bare trees dusted with snow.
Their branches stretch, twist and turn, telling me secrets.

"I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show."

- Andrew Wyeth (1917-2009)

Tuesday, February 9

more snow?

he loves the snow & the snow loves him back
let us welcome winter's snow

with the wonder of a child

let us welcome winter's dance

and celebrate the seasons of our lives

Monday, February 8

cardinal

our visiting cardinal
the red bird has appeared every morning

a messenger

a reminder

in the midst of winter

Sunday, February 7

give thanks

touching the cold window
today I give thanks

for having a warm home

today I give thanks...

Saturday, February 6

diapers & peanut butter

yesterday afternoon, preparing for the big blizzard

no more yogurt
no more organic whole milk
no more bananas, not even very green ones



luckily, we still found diapers in baby's size
and peanut butter

Friday, February 5

dreams

trees outside my window
Dreams pass into the reality of action. From the actions stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living.

- Anaïs Nin (1907-1977)

what are your dreams?

what specific actions are you taking to transform them into realities?

Thursday, February 4

no importance

mixed media on paper, illustration from a series
what are you worried about?

"I think these difficult times have helped me to understand better than before how infinitely rich and beautiful life is in every way, and that so many things one goes around worrying about are of no importance whatever."

- Isak Denisen

Wednesday, February 3

sit quietly doing nothing

detail from a corner of my desk

sit quietly doing nothing,

spring comes and the grass grows by itself.

- ZEN proverb


Maternal instinct is that protective wild lioness, unafraid to use claws and jaws...unafraid to risk life and strength for her child.

However, sometimes the best protection is allowing our children to learn on their own. Empower them to distinguish danger and yet be unafraid. Show them by example how to get up and stand after a fall.

Tuesday, February 2

hand in hand

my son with his Grand Mother, Mama-Mama
hand in hand

round and round

they walked

he led the way

following the little path

speaking his invented language

- with the flowers

- with the fountain

- with his Grand Mother

from today's museum musings

Monday, February 1

18 months

baby & me
he is 18 months old today

my little prince

motherhood blesses, changes, challenges, transforms...