HER-story:

With words and images, I am telling my story. Through art, through sculpture, I am remembering HERstory...
CASIMIRA

Friday, June 30

soy el mar de todos tus puertos


el talismán de tu piel me ha dicho -
que soy la reina de tus caprichos,
yo soy el as de los corazones,
que se pasean en tus tentaciones,
el talismán de tu piel me cuenta
que en tu montura caerán las riendas

cuando una noche de amor desesperados
caigamos juntos y enredados
la alfombra y el alrededor, acabaran
desordenados
cuando una noche de amor que yo no dudo
la eternidad venga seguro
tu y yo, el desnudo y el corazón...seremos uno

yo soy la tierra de tus raíces: el talismán de tu piel lo dice,
yo soy la tierra de tus raíces: lo dice el corazón y el fuego de tu piel,
yo soy la tierra de tus raíces: el talismán de tu piel lo dice,
yo soy la tierra de tus raíces: a ver que dices tu

el talismán de tu piel me chiva
que ando descalza de esquina a esquina,
por cada calle que hay en tus sueños,
que soy el mar de todos tus puertos,
el talismán de tu piel me cuenta
que tu destino caerá a mi puerta
 

- © ROSANA ARBELO

sunrise 

Thursday, June 29

finding faith in myself


"Show me forgiveness -

For having lost faith in myself -
And let my own interior up -
To inferior forces -
The shame is endless -
But if soon start forgiveness -
The girl might live..."
- Bjork

snapshot of my daughter at sunrise, light upon light 


Wednesday, June 28

sunrise


sleepless nights
salty tears reminiscent of the sea
you and me

serenades of birds
hidden in the trees
signaling what will be

blessed fire dancing in the skies
waves of emotions
birthing another day

excerpt from my journal and snapshot from today's sunrise 





Tuesday, June 27

healing


"Things falling apart is a kind of testing and also a kind of healing. We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don't really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It's just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy." - Pema Chodron 




Monday, June 26

las aguas de mis pensamientos


"Hay almas que tienen
azules luceros,
mañanas marchitas
entre hojas del tiempo,
y castos rincones
que guardan un viejo
rumor de nostalgias
y sueños.
Otras almas tienen
dolientes espectros
de pasiones. Frutas
con gusanos. Ecos
de una voz quemada
que viene de lejos
como una corriente
de sombra. Recuerdos
vacíos de llanto
y migajas de besos.
Mi alma está madura
hace mucho tiempo,
y se desmorona
turbia de misterio.
Piedras juveniles
roídas de ensueño
caen sobre las aguas
de mis pensamientos.
Cada piedra dice:
“¡Dios está muy lejos!”
Federico García Lorca (1898-1936)

Sunday, June 25

honoring respect: Pixie Lighthorse


I gifted myself a most wonderful book by Pixie Lighthorse. I am so happy I brought it with me during the family beach week.

"...I am seeking new ways to respect myself, you, the Earth and my dear ones...Help me speak with sacredness on my mind. When I don't agree with what is being said, turn up my ability for high-frequency communication and awareness to the level I would most love to receive when I am in the same position ...Help me receive the sentiment behind the words, because few will be able to say it like I want to hear it..."

- Pixie Lighthorse, from her book "Prayers of Honoring Voice"

sunset





Saturday, June 24

healing family secrets


"Buried in the recesses of your family's history you may find secrets. Due to cultural and societal prohibitions, these facts about the family typically remain repressed, as are the strong feelings associated with these secrets. There's considerable shame that prevents these secrets from being acknowledged and dealt with, so they become toxic to other family members.

...these repressed feelings and behaviors get projected onto others in the family, who then act out these toxic feelings without being aware of their original source...

Sometimes the secrets are so huge that discovering the truth behind them changes someone's life around 180 degrees. 

...When these secrets remain buried, they end up being projected onto other people or passed along through the generations...The poisonous influence of family secrets can remain in the lineage for several generations, often enacted by one or more family members until there is active healing.

There are a number of resources for healing this ancestral karma, and it's often through the healing journey that someone finds out about these secrets. Once the secrets are brought out into the open, there's opportunity to release their hold on the family members, and subsequent generations will no longer have to carry them...

...Being secrets, they are often submerged under layers of guilt and shame yet are often acted out or projected onto others...

...The secrets, as well as the act of keeping secrets, continue to be forwarded until someone in the lineage is willing to tackle these issues and seek healing for the damage done."

- Dr. Steven D. Farmer

detail from a recent mixed media on paper 






Friday, June 23

howling at the darkness of the new moon


"We have come together to fall apart 

The queen of chaos straddles 
our corpora callosa

Reins of raw silk weaving our wills 
into the corners of the collective mind

There's more to chaos than meets the mind 

dialoguing with demons, goddesses
and gods

Wings lying unconscious at our sides
rise and shudder

If chaos were only chaos
we wouldn't sit in the darkness
of new moons choking back howls

If chaos were only chaos
this edge would rise up razor sharp
and take off our heads

Off with our heads!

We'd eat our cake and dance on the crumbs

Oh, God!

If chaos were only chaos
she'd take her spiked heel
and pierce our throats

Ripe verbs would do us all night

Words would fly from our lips like birds
in a formation never seen by humans

If chaos were only chaos
the words wouldn't matter
and the poem would always be there

Always be there

Be there

Be there

We have come together here

We have come together

We have come together to fall apart."

- Jewel Mathieson



the warrior in me has awakened

decapitating demons

slashing fears
through tears

crushing judgements
while dancing and dreaming

the warrior in me

the blessed spiritual warrior in me
manifesting peace



Thursday, June 22

hunger and hunt


"I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratúe."
- Pablo Neruda translated by Stephen Tapscott

"Tengo hambre de tu boca, de tu voz, de tu pelo
y por las calles voy sin nutrirme, callado,
no me sostiene el pan, el alba me desquicia,
busco el sonido líquido de tus pies en el día.
Estoy hambriento de tu risa resbalada,
de tus manos color de furioso granero,
tengo hambre de la pálida piedra de tus uñas,
quiero comer tu piel como una intacta almendra.
Quiero comer el rayo quemado en tu hermosura,
la nariz soberana del arrogante rostro,
quiero comer la sombra fugaz de tus pestañas
y hambriento vengo y voy olfateando el crepúsculo
buscándote, buscando tu corazón caliente
como un puma en la soledad de Quitratúe."
- Pablo Neruda

detail from mixed media on paper

Wednesday, June 21

summer in love


decide to spend this summer in love...

write letters to the moon...

flirt with the sun...

and please remember to kiss under the summer rains...

summer solstice blessings


Tuesday, June 20

no pido mucho


"Look, I don't ask much, just your hand, to hold it...I need that door you gave me for coming into your world, that little chunk of green sugar, of a lucky ring. Can't you just spare me your hand tonight at the end of a year of hoarse-voiced-owls? You can't for technical reasons. So I weave it in the air, warping each finger, the silky peach of the palm and the back, that country of blue trees. That's how I take it and hold it, as if so much of the world depended on it..."
- Julio Cortázar translated by Stephen Kessler

the original version in Spanish always takes my breath away...

"Mira, no pido mucho, solamente tu mano, tenerla...Necesito esa puerta que me dabas para entrar a tu mundo, ese trocito de azúcar verde, de redondo alegre. No me prestas tu mano en esta noche de fin de año de lechuzas roncas?No puedes, por razones técnicas. Entonces la tramo en aire, urdiendo cada dedo, el durazno sedoso de la palma y el dorso, ese país de azules árboles. Así la tomo y la sostengo, como si de ello dependiera muchísimo del mundo..."
- Julio Cortázar 

Monday, June 19

the mythical lover


"My love for you has driven me insane. I wander aimlessly the ruins of my life, my old self a stranger to me. Because of your love, I have broken with my past. My longing for you keeps me in this moment. My passion gives me courage. I look for you in my innermost being. I used to read the myths of love. Now I have become the mythical lover." - RUMI

antique bronze Venus wears one of my pieces created for the mythical lover within each of us




Sunday, June 18

sacred wildness


"But can you love me in the deep? In the dark? In the thick of it?

Can you love me when I drink from the wrong bottle and slip through the crack in the floorboard?

Can you love me when I’m bigger than you, when my presence blazes like the sun does, when it hurts to look directly at me?

Can you love me then too?

Can you love me under the starry sky, shaved and smooth, my skin like liquid moonlight?

Can you love me when I am howling and furry, standing on my haunches, my lower lip stained with the blood of my last kill?

When I call down the lightning, when the sidewalks are singed by the soles of my feet, can you still love me then?

What happens when I freeze the land, and cause the dirt to harden over all the pomegranate seeds we’ve planted?

Will you trust that Spring will return?

Will you still believe me when I tell you I will become a raging river, and spill myself upon your dreams and call them to the surface of your life?

Can you trust me, even though you cannot tame me?

Can you love me, even though I am all that you fear and admire?

Will you fear my shifting shape?

Does it frighten you, when my eyes flash like your camera does?

Do you fear they will capture your soul?

Are you afraid to step into me?

The meat-eating plants and flowers armed with poisonous darts are not in my jungle to stop you from coming. Not you.

So do not worry. They belong to me, and I have invited you here.

Stay to the path revealed in the moonlight and arrive safely to the hut of Baba Yaga: the wild old wise one… she will not lead you astray if you are pure of heart.

You cannot be with the wild one if you fear the rumbling of the ground, the roar of a cascading river, the startling clap of thunder in the sky.

If you want to be safe, go back to your tiny room — the night sky is not for you.

If you want to be torn apart, come in. Be broken open and devoured. Be set ablaze in my fire.

I will not leave you as you have come: well dressed, in finely-threaded sweaters that keep out the cold.

I will leave you naked and biting. Leave you clawing at the sheets. Leave you surrounded by owls and hawks and flowers that only bloom when no one is watching.

So, come to me, and be healed in the unbearable lightness and darkness of all that you are.

There is nothing in you that can scare me. Nothing in you I will not use to make you great.

A wild woman is not a girlfriend. She is a relationship with nature. She is the source of all your primal desires, and she is the wild whipping wind that uproots the poisonous corn stalks on your neatly tilled farm.

She will plant pear trees in the wake of your disaster.

She will see to it that you shall rise again.

She is the lover who restored you to your own wild nature."
- Alison Nappi

self-portrait from a new series in progress


Saturday, June 17

senses


"...my friends have become strangers and I'm surrounded by enemies, but I'm free as the wind, no longer hurt by those who reproach me.

I'm at home wherever I am, and in the room of lovers I can see with closed eyes the beauty that dances behind the veils, intoxicated with love I too dance the rhythm of this moving world.

I have lost my senses
in my world of lovers."

- RUMI

Friday, June 16

I will bare my soul in time



"Did I disappoint you or let you down?
Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?
'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,
Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.
So I took what's mine by eternal right.
Took your soul out into the night.
It may be over but it won't stop there,
I am here for you if you'd only care.
You touched my heart you touched my soul.
You changed my life and all my goals.
And love is blind and that I knew when,
My heart was blinded by you.
I've kissed your lips and held your hand.
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.
I know you well, I know your smell.
I've been addicted to you.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
I am a dreamer and when I wake,
You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take.
And as you move on, remember me,
Remember us and all we used to be
I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile.
I've watched you sleeping for a while.
I'd be the father of your child.
I'd spend a lifetime with you.
I know your fears and you know mine.
We've had our doubts but now we're fine,
And I love you, I swear that's true.
I cannot live without you.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
And I still hold your hand in mine.
In mine when I'm asleep.
And I will bare my soul in time,
When I'm kneeling at your feet.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.
I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow..."

- Sacha Skarbek, sung by James Blunt 


so many dreams...
direct messages...




Thursday, June 15

tus quince mil encantos


"entre el cielo y el suelo hay algo,
con tendencia a quedarse calvo,
de tanto recordar,
y ese algo que soy yo mismo,
es un cuadro de bifrontismo,
que sólo da una faz,

la cara vista es un anuncio de signal,
la cara oculta es la resulta,
de mi idea genial de echarte,
me cuesta tanto olvidarte,
me cuesta tanto,

olvidar quince mil encantos es
mucha sensatez
y no sé si seré sensato
lo que sé es que me cuesta un rato
hacer las cosas sin querer

y aunque fui yo quien decidió
que ya no más
y no me cansé se jurarte
que no habrá segunda parte
me cuesta tanto olvidarte
me cuesta tanto..." - José M. Cano

mixed media from a series


Wednesday, June 14

he is always alone



"I saw you this morning.
You were moving so fast.
Can’t seem to loosen my grip -
on the past.
 


And we’re still making love
In My Secret Life.

I smile when I’m angry.
I cheat and I lie.
I do what I have to do to get by.
But I know what is wrong,
And I know what is right.
And I’d die for the truth
In My Secret Life...
...I bite my lip.
I buy what I’m told:
from the latest hit,
to the wisdom of old.
But I’m always alone.
And my heart is like ice.
And it’s crowded and cold.
In My Secret Life."

-  Leonard Cohen (1934-2016)


Tuesday, June 13

you have become the poem


"Lady, i will touch you with my mind.

Touch you and touch you and touch

until you give

me suddenly, a smile, shyly obscene 



(lady i will

touch you with my mind.) Touch

you, that is all,



lightly and you utterly will become

with infinite ease



the poem which i do not write."

- e.e. cummings (1894-1962)


no, those are not typos you see above, but Edward Estlin Cummings' innovative and unconventional writing style in lowercase letters 

snapshot - cover of the book he gave me



Monday, June 12

peace



"Any time anyone complains of worry, anxiety, depression, fear, hatred, jealousy - whatever it is - let him sit back and analyze the cause. If he is really sincere, he will find out that what he wanted something for himself. Selfish desire causes all the problems. Do things for the sake of others, not for yourself. That is the simple and practical way to find peace."
excerpt from "The Golden Present"
Daily Inspirational Readings by Sri Swami Satchidananda

Beloved Gurudev's wise words...Om Shanthi, Shanthi, Shanthi...


Sunday, June 11

blue hair


love your soul

you must love your soul

love your soul

I do love your soul

my hair turns blue 

waiting for you 


detail from mixed media on wood, 2017


Saturday, June 10

no doubt


"When the rain is blowing in your face,
And the whole world is on your case,
I could offer you a warm embrace,
To make you feel my love.


When the evening shadows and the stars appear,

And there is no one there to dry your tears,
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love.



I know you haven't made your mind up yet, but I will never do you wrong.


I've known it from the moment that we met, no doubt in my mind where you belong.


I'd go hungry; I'd go black and blue,

And I'd go crawling down the avenue.
No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do
To make you feel my love.



The storms are raging on the rolling sea

And on the highway of regret.
The winds of change are blowing wild and free,
You ain't seen nothing like me yet.



I could make you happy, make your dreams come true.

Nothing that I wouldn't do.
Go to the ends of the Earth for you,
To make you feel my love..."
- Bob Dylan 

snapshot taken at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City




Friday, June 9

soul-craving


"The way to maintain one's connection to the wild is to ask yourself what it is that you want. This is the sorting of the seed from the dirt. One of the most important discriminations we can make in this matter is the difference between things that beckon to us and things that call from our souls. Nowhere can this be seen more clearly than in the choice of mates and lovers. A lover cannot be chosen a la smorgasbord. A lover has to be chosen from soul-craving. To choose just because something mouthwatering stands before you will never satisfy the hunger of the soul-self. And that is what the intuition is for; it is the direct messenger of the soul."

- Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes


Thursday, June 8

dance me to the end of love


"Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin -
Dance me through the panic, 'til I'm gathered safely in -
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove -
Dance me to the end of love -

Let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone -
Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon -
Show me slowly what I only know the limits of -
Dance me to the end of love -

Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on -
Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long -
We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above -
Dance me to the end of love -

Dance me to the children who are asking to be born -
Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn -
Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn -
Dance me to the end of love -

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin -
Dance me through the panic, 'til I'm gathered safely in -
Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove -
Dance me to the end of love..."

- Leonard Cohen

mixed media

Wednesday, June 7

touch in


"When things are shaky and nothing is working, we might realize that we are on the verge of something. We might realize that this is a very vulnerable and tender place, and that tenderness can go either way. We can shut down and feel resentful or we can touch in on that throbbing quality."

- Pema Chodron

mixed media on paper, 2013


Tuesday, June 6

dreams woven with action


"Dreams are necessary to life...Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious, and they must be brought into connection with action. They must be woven together."

- Anais Nin

mixed media from my journals

Monday, June 5

tu sabor


“Te confieso que no tengo un instante sin pensar en ti, que cuanto como y bebo tiene tu sabor, que la vida eres tú a toda hora y en todas partes. Que el gozo supremo de mi corazón sería morirme contigo. -¿Y ahora? - Ahora nada - Me basta con lo que sepas."

- Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Sunday, June 4

every little thing


"Though I've tried before to tell her
Of the feelings I have for her in my heart
Every time that I come near her
I just lose my nerve as I've done from the start

Every little thing she does is magic
Everything she does just turns me on
Even though my life before was tragic
Now I know my love for her goes on

Do I have to tell the story
Of a thousand rainy days since we first met?
It's a big enough umbrella
But it's always me that ends up getting wet

Every little thing she does is magic
Everything she does just turns me on
Even though my life before was tragic
Now I know my love for her goes on

I resolved to call her up
A thousand times a day
Ask her if she'll marry me
In some old fashioned way

But my silent fears have gripped me
Long before I reach the phone
Long before my tongue has tripped me
Must I always be alone..."

- STING


Saturday, June 3

preso


"Cada vez que te beso me sabe a poco.
Cada vez que te tengo me vuelvo loco.
Y cada vez, cuando te miro, cada vez,
encuentro una razón para seguir viviendo.
Y cada vez, cuando te miro, cada vez,
es como descubrir el universo.

Te quiero, te quiero
y eres el centro de mi corazón.
Te quiero, te quiero
como la tierra al sol.

Cada vez que la noche llega a tu pelo
de cada estrella blanca yo siento celos.
Y cada vez, cuando amanece, cada vez,
me siento un poco más, de tu mirada preso.
Y cada vez, entre tus brazos, cada vez,
despierta una canción y nace un beso.

Te quiero, te quiero
y eres el centro de mi corazón.
Te quiero, te quiero
como la tierra al sol."

-  José Luis Perales


Friday, June 2

cuando tardas y demoras en volver


"El amor es un bolsa de recuerdos
es un grito, una mirada entre los dos
es un abismo sin final
el esfuerzo de tu manos con las mias
la caricia de un buen beso y sin medida

Es sentirse mas que dos cuando caminas
es gastarse en una boca el corazon...

El amor es asertijo, es el pecado santigual
es la locura de los sexos, el sudor de nuestros huesos
y es un punto de partida en nuestra vida
que nos cega la mirada y nos lastima

Es sentirse mas que dos cuando caminas
es gastarse en una boca el corazon...

El amor es mi extructura, es la palabra
las esquinas de tu boca, la verdad
es pilar que me sostiene cuando siento que estoy solo
cuando tardas y demoras en volver

Cuando tardas y demoras
y hace tiempo que no vuelves
y se retarda nuestro encuentro es mi amor el que soporta
y es mi muro elaborado con heridas
el que inyecta su veneno y asi vivo

Es sentirse mas que dos cuando caminas
es gastarse en una boca el corazon...

El amor es complicado acurrucarlo
cuando decide marcharse del lugar donde aparco
el amor es nuestro punto de partida
es sentirse mas que dos cuando caminas
es tu pierna entre cruzada, que me anima la garganta
y te canto esta cancion

El amor es mi estructura, es la palabra
las esquinas de tu boca, la verdad
es pilar que me sostiene cuando siento que estoy solo
cuando tardas y demoras en volver

El amor es no espantarse a las miradas
es querer vivir el tiempo un poco mas
es pilar que me sostiene, cuando siento que estoy solo
cuando tardas y demoras en volver..."

- PERROZOMPOPO


Thursday, June 1

chiudo gli occhi e penso a te


"Io lavoro e penso a te,
torno a casa e penso a te,
le telefono e intanto penso a te...

Come stai e penso a te,
dove andiamo e penso a te,
le sorrido abbasso gli occhi e penso a te...

Non so con chi adesso sei,
non so che cosa fai,
ma so di certo a cosa stai pensando...

E' troppo grande la città,
per due che come noi,
non sperano però si stan cercando... cercando...

Scusa è tardi e penso a te,
ti accompagno e penso a te,
non son stato divertente e penso a te...

Sono al buio e penso a te,
chiudo gli occhi e penso a te,
io non dormo e penso a te..." 

- Lucio Battisti (1943-1998)