HER-story:

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

Saturday, June 30

my ovaries and Snoop Dogg


Two years ago I dreamed I was good friends with Snoop Dogg. He wore two braids, a purple suit, sunglasses and a CASIMIRA necklace.


We spoke about our fears and my ovaries. He showed me enormous paintings he had purchased at my latest exhibit...


Analyze that: Snoop Dogg, fears, my ovaries and enormous paintings...

...and a CASIMIRA necklace...

I need to paint. A lot more...

images found online and saturated in blue hues


Friday, June 29

hold the space


"The only beloved who can always be counted on is God. The ultimate partner is a divine one, an experience of ourselves that is totally supportive and forgiving. Until we know this, we keep seeking sustenance from men that they cannot give us. Most men and women today are wounded. The search for some one who isn't in pain is unreasonable until we ourselves are healed of our own dysfunctions. Until then, we will be led to people as wounded as we are in order that we might heal and be healed together. What this means is that NO PARTNER can save us, deliver us, or give meaning to our lives. The source of our salvation, deliverance, and meaning is within us. It is the love we give as much as it is the love we get. The passion we need to feed is our relationship to God. This is ultimately our relationship with ourselves.

It's not as easy as a good date, as much fun as sex, or as dramatic as romantic tension. It is work. Personal growth, recovery, religious practice, spiritual renewal - whatever words we care to use - these are the keys to our return to sanity and peace. When we have reclaimed our wholeness, we are ready to face the worldly beloved. Until then, we will look to a romantic partner to give us peace rather than remember that our role in the relationship is to BRING peace, by receiving it from God allowing him to spread his peace through us to all mankind.

How often I have betrayed myself, forgetting - or more accurately, resisting - the twenty minutes of meditation, the hour of reading, the spiritual meeting or recovery group that would prepare me for the roller coaster ride that always lies potential in an intimate relationship. Part of our problem is that we expect love affairs to always feel good. They don't. Actually, relationships don't feel good anyway. We feel good. Unless we are centered within ourselves, we cannot blame a relationship for throwing us off. No man can convince a woman she's wonderful, but if she already believes she is, his agreement can resonate and bring her joy.

This is our function in each other's lives: to hold the space for each other's beauty, that our beloved can leave us and we still feel in his absence how beautiful we are."

- Marianne Williamson

I received this passage after my daily ritual of morning meditation, prayer and yoga...

and my dear, if the word "god" turns you off, simply substitute it with one that connects you with the Divine Life Force that resides within...





Thursday, June 28

sacred sweat

- detail from watercolor on paper -
how do you pray?

when do you pray?

do you pray?

Although I have encountered moments of reverence at churches during masses throughout the ceremonies,  my soul's prayers - my connection with the Divine - are more purely and more intensely felt elsewhere.  In nature.  In silence.  In dance.  In painting.  In yoga.  In sculpting.  In lovemaking.  In compassion.  In laughter.  In salty tears. In long embraces.

Today I sweat my prayers...

"To sweat is to pray, to make an offering of your innermost self.  Sweat is holy water, prayer beads, pearls of liquid that release your past.  Sweat is an ancient and universal form of self healing, whether done in the gym, the sauna, or the sweat lodge.  I do it on the dance floor.  The more you dance, the more you sweat.  The more you sweat, the more you pray.  The more you pray, the closer you come to ecstasy." - Gabrielle Roth




Wednesday, June 27

que sepas


“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

Tuesday, June 26

te extraño


"Te extraño -


como se extrañan las noches sin estrellas, 

como se extrañan las mañanas bellas, 
no estar contigo, por Dios que me hace daño.

Te extraño - 

cuando camino, cuando lloro, cuando río, 
cuando el sol brilla, cuando hace mucho frío, 
porque te siento como algo muy mío.

Te extraño - 

como los árboles extrañan el otoño, 
en esas noches que no concilio el sueño, 
no te imaginas Amor, cómo te extraño.

Te extraño - 

en cada paso que siento solitario, 
cada momento que estoy viviendo a diario, 
estoy muriendo Amor porque te extraño.

Te extraño - 

cuando la aurora comienza a dar colores, 
con tus virtudes, con todos tus errores, 
por lo que quieras no sé, pero te extraño..."

- Armando Manzanero 

detail from mixed media on canvas


Monday, June 25

all my pictures of you

- a little sketch from my journals -
"I've been looking so long at these pictures of you 
That I almost believe that they're real 
I've been living so long with my pictures of you
That I almost believe that the pictures are 
All I can feel

Remembering
You standing quiet in the rain
As I ran to your heart to be near
And we kissed as the sky fell in
Holding you close
How I always held close in your fear

Remembering
You running soft through the night
You were bigger and brighter and whiter than snow
And screamed at the make-believe
Screamed at the sky
And you finally found all your courage
To let it all go

Remembering
You fallen into my arms
Crying for the death of your heart
You were stone white
So delicate
Lost in the cold
You were always so lost in the dark

Remembering
You how you used to be
Slow drowned
You were angels
So much more than everything
Hold for the last time then slip away quietly
Open my eyes
But I never see anything

If only I'd thought of the right words
I could have held on to your heart
If only I'd thought of the right words
I wouldn't be breaking apart
All my pictures of you

Looking so long at these pictures of you
But I never hold on to your heart
Looking so long for the words to be true
But always just breaking apart
My pictures of you

There was nothing in the world
That I ever wanted more
Than to feel you deep in my heart

There was nothing in the world
That I ever wanted more
Than to never feel the breaking apart
All my pictures of you" - THE CURE



I am finally finding all of my courage to let it all go...






Sunday, June 24

woman


"Imagine a woman who believes it is right and good she is a woman.

A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories.

Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.

Imagine a woman who trusts and respects herself.

A woman who listens to her needs and desires.

Who meets them with tenderness and grace.

Imagine a woman who acknowledges the past's influence on the present.

A woman who has walked through her past.

Who has healed into the present.

Imagine a woman who authors her own life.

A woman who exerts, initiates, and moves on her own behalf.

Who refuses to surrender except to her truest self and wisest voice.

Imagine a woman who names her own gods.

A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness.

Who designs a personal spirituality to inform her daily life.

Imagine a woman in love with her own body.

A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is.

Who celebrates its rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.

Imagine a woman who honors the body of the 
Goddess in her changing body.

A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and her wisdom.

Who refuses to use her life-energy disguising the changes in her body and life.

Imagine a woman who values the women in her life.

A woman who sits in circles of women.

Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.

Imagine yourself as this woman."

“Imagine a Woman” © Patricia Lynn Reilly, 1995

Saturday, June 23

free spirit discipline


"Do you have the discipline to be a free spirit?" - G. Roth


Friday, June 22

unnoticed and necessary my dear


"I would like to watch you sleeping, 
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you, 
sleeping. I would like to sleep 
with you, to enter 
your sleep as its smooth dark wave 
slides over my head

and walk with you through that lucent 
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves 
with its watery sun and three moons 
towards the cave where you must descend, 
towards your worst fear.

I would like to give you the silver 
branch, the small white flower, the one 
word that will protect you 
from the grief at the center 
of your dream, from the grief 
at the center. I would like to follow 
you up the long stairway 
again and become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands 
to where your body lies 
beside me, and you enter 
it as easily as breathing in.

I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
and that necessary."
- Margaret Atwood

unnoticed and necessary...
air...breath...yes...to enter your dreams

Thursday, June 21

summer solstice


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


mixed media on paper 


Wednesday, June 20

move on


"Your past is over!

By bonding to your past, you not only ensure that you'll be immobilized today, but you prevent yourself from healing...

In a universe that's an intelligent system with a divine creative force supporting it, there simply can be no accidents.  As tough as it is to acknowledge, you had to go through what you went through in order to get to where you are today, and the evidence is that you did.  Every spiritual advance that you will make in your life will very likely be preceded by some kind of fall or seeming disaster.  Those dark times, accidents, illnesses, abuses, and broken dreams were ALL IN ORDER...

Practice living in the moment, and REFUSE to allow any thoughts based on your past to define you.  Stop and take notice of all that's in your immediate space - the people, creatures, vegetation, cloud formations, building designs, everything.  Stay in the present by meditating and getting closer to the ultimate now...God.

Your past history and all of your hurts are no longer here in your physical reality.  Don't allow them to be here in your mind, muddying your present moments.  Your life is like a play with several acts.  Some of the characters who enter have short roles to play, others, much larger.  Some are villains and others are good guys.  But all of them are NECESSARY, otherwise they wouldn't be in the play.  Embrace them all, and move on to the next act."
- Dr. Wayne Dyer


2013 limited edition mixed media on paper

Tuesday, June 19

tell the truth


"Do I move you?  Are you willing?

Do I groove you?  Is it thrilling?

Do I soothe you?  Tell the truth now,

Do I move you?  Are you loose now?

The answer better be - YES, yes...it pleases me.


Are you ready for this action?

Does it give you satisfaction?

Are you hip to what I'm saying?

If you are then let's start swaying.

The answer better be - YES, yes...it pleases me.


When I touch you, do you quiver?

From your head down to your liver?

If you like it let me know it...

Don't be psychic or you'll blow it...

The answer better be - YES, yes...that pleases me."


- Nina Simone

Monday, June 18

he did not dare


“To him she seemed so beautiful, so seductive, so different from ordinary people, that he could not understand why no one was as disturbed as he by the clicking of her heels on the paving stones, why no one else's heart was wild with the breeze stirred by the sighs of her veils, why everyone did not go mad with the movements of her braid, the flight of her hands, the gold of her laughter. He had not missed a single one of her gestures, not one of the indications of her character, but he did not dare approach her for fear of destroying the spell.” 

“Le parecía tan bella, tan seductora, tan distinta de la gente común, que no entendía por qué nadie se trastornaba como él con las castañuelas de sus tacones en los adoquines de la calle, ni se le desordenaba el corazón con el aire de los suspiros de sus volantes, ni se volvía loco de amor todo el mundo con los vientos de su trenza, el vuelo de sus manos, el oro de su risa. No había perdido un gesto suyo, ni un indicio de su carácter, pero no se atrevía a acercársele por el temor de malograr el encanto."

- Gabriel Garcia Marquez (1927-2014)

snapshot - an unintentional selfie of my shoulder...


Sunday, June 17

salty smiles

- mid-1970s - Rehoboth Beach, Delaware -

The beach holds memories of sand castles and salty smiles. It is where I need to begin telling my story, telling her story...with Father Sun and Mother Moon...

excerpt from my journals

Happy Birthday Dad, I love you beyond words!


Saturday, June 16

recuerdos


"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)

Friday, June 15

curious


"...you never were the one...
and then I lay here open,
on the floor,
on the ground,
on the stairs,
on the way,
...and it's dangerous to go and listen to what they say...
the way you hold yourself straight,
you were never innocent,
and I just lay here frozen,
curious..."

- Zola Jesus

it is certainly dangerous to listen to what they say...



Thursday, June 14

stay open


"I'm a fool for that shake in your thighs.

I'm a fool for that sound in your sighs.

I'm a fool for your belly.

I'm a fool for your love.

I want to make this plain.

Oh, I know your faded, 
but stay, don't close your eyes...

Caught in this pool held in your eyes.

Caught like a fool without a line.

We're in a natural spring,

With this gentle sting between us.

Stay, stay open..."

- RHYE

a favorite song and a selfie 




Wednesday, June 13

new moon


butterfly medicine on this new dark moon

grateful

grateful

grateful

•••

One or Two Things

  1
Don’t bother me.
I’ve just
been born.

  2
The butterfly’s loping flight
carries it through the country of the leaves
delicately, and well enough to get it
where it wants to go, wherever that is, stopping
here and there to fuzzle the damp throats
of flowers and the black mud; up
and down it swings, frenzied and aimless; and sometimes

for long delicious moments it is perfectly
lazy, riding motionless in the breeze on the soft stalk
of some ordinary flower.

  3
The god of dirt
came up to me many times and said
so many wise and delectable things, I lay
on the grass listening
to his dog voice,
crow voice,
frog voice; now,
he said, and now,

and never once mentioned forever,

  4
which has nevertheless always been,
like a sharp iron hoof,
at the center of my mind.

  5
One or two things are all you need
to travel over the blue pond, over the deep
roughage of the trees and through the stiff
flowers of lightning — some deep
memory of pleasure, some cutting
knowledge of pain.

  6
But to lift the hoof!
For that you need
an idea.

  7
For years and years I struggled
just to love my life. And then

the butterfly
rose, weightless, in the wind.
“Don’t love your life
too much,” it said,

and vanished
into the world.

- Mary Oliver 

Tuesday, June 12

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


2013 mixed media 



Monday, June 11

un sueño abierto


"Una esperanza un huerto un páramo

una migaja entre dos hambres

el amor es campo minado

un jubileo de la sangre

cáliz y musgo / cruz y sésamo

pobre bisagra entre voraces

el amor es un sueño abierto

un centro con pocas filiales

un todo al borde de la nada

fogata que será ceniza

el amor es una palabra

un pedacito de utopía

es todo eso y mucho menos

y mucho más / es una isla

una borrasca / un lago quieto

sintetizando yo diría

que el amor es una alcachofa

que va perdiendo sus enigmas

hasta que queda una zozobra

una esperanza un fantasmita."

- Mario Benedetti 



Sunday, June 10

tell me you'll miss me


Stars shining bright above you,

Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"

Birds singing in the sycamore tree,
Dream a little dream of me.
Say "Night-ie night" and kiss me,

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me.

While I'm alone and blue as can be,
Dream a little dream of me.
Stars fading, but I linger on, dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear
Just saying this
Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me
Stars fading, but I linger on, dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear
Just saying this
Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me.."

Songwriters: Fabian Andre, Gus Kahn, and Wilbur Schwandt




Saturday, June 9

disassembled by her


"He sweeps his arm across plates and glasses on a restaurant table so she might look up somewhere else in the city hearing this cause of noise. When he is without her. He, who has never felt alone in the miles of longitude between desert towns...He lies in his room surrounded by the pale maps. He is without her. His hunger wishes to burn down all social rules, all courtesy. Her life with others no longer interests him. He wants only her stalking beauty, her theatre of expressions. He wants the minute and secret reflection between them, the depth of field minimal, their foreignness intimate like two pages of a closed book.  He has been disassembled by her..."

- Michael Ondaatje

recent selfie 


Friday, June 8

rage


Wisdom found me this morning during sunrise meditation and yoga:

"Under the tutelage of Wild Woman we reclaim the ancient, the intuitive, and the passionate. When our lives reflect hers, we act cohesively. We carry through, or learn to if we don't already know how. We take the steps to make our ideas manifest in the world. We regain focus when we lose it, attend to personal rhythms, draw closer to friends and mates who are in accord with wildish and integral rhythms. We choose relationships that nurture our creative and instinctive lives. We reach our to nurture others. And we are willing to teach receptive mates about wildish rhythms if need be.

But there is another aspect to mastery, and that is dealing with what can only be called women's rage. The release of that rage is required. Once women remember the origins of their rage, they feel they may never stop grinding their teeth. Ironically, we also feel very anxious to disperse our rage, for it feels distressing and noxious. We wish to hurry up and do away with it.

But repressing it will not work. It is like trying to put fire into a burlap bag. Neither is it good to scald ourselves or someone else with it. So there we are holding a powerful emotion that we feel came upon us unbidden. It is a little like toxic waste; there it is, no one wants it, but there are few disposal areas for it. One has to travel far in order to find a burial ground...

...All emotion, even rage, carries knowledge, insight, what some call enlightenment. Our rage can, for a time, become teacher...a thing not to be rid of so fast, but rather something to climb the mountain for, something to personify via various images in order to learn from, deal with internally, then shape into something useful in the world as a result, or else let it go back down to dust. In a cohesive life, rage is not a stand-alone item. It is a substance waiting for our transformative efforts. The cycle of rage is like any other cycle; it rises, falls, dies and is released as new energy. Attention to the matter of rage begins the process of transformation.

Allowing oneself to be taught by one's rage, thereby transforming it, disperses it. One's energy returns to use in other areas, especially the area of creativity. Although some people claim they can create out of their chronic rage, the problem is that rage confines access to the collective unconscious - that infinite reservoir of imaginal images and thoughts - so that a person creating out of rage tends to create the same thing over and over again, with nothing new coming through. Untransformed rage can become a constant mantra about how oppressed, hurt and tortured we were...

...Rage corrodes our trust that anything good can occur. Something has happened to hope. And behind the loss of hope is usually anger; behind anger, pain; behind pain, usually torture of one sort or another, sometimes recent, but more often from long ago.

In physical post-trauma work, we know that the sooner injury is dealt with, the less its effect spread or worsen. Also the more quickly a trauma is contained and dealt with, the faster the recovery time. This is true for psychological trauma as well. What condition would we be in if we'd broken a leg as a child, and thirty years later it still had not been properly set?

...There is a life beyond thoughtless rage...it takes a conscious practice to contain and heal such. But we can do it. It truly takes only climbing through one step at a time.

So rather than trying to "behave" and not feel our rage or rather than using it to burn down every living thing in a hundred-mile radius, it is better to first ask rage to take a seat with us, have some tea, talk a while so we can find out what summoned this visitor. At first rage...it doesn't want to talk, it doesn't want to eat, just wants to sit there and stare, or rail, or be left alone. It is this critical point that we call the healer, our wisest self, our best resources for seeing beyond ego irritation and aggravation. The healer is always the "far-seer." She is the one who can tell us what good can come from exploring this emotive surge."
- Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Ph.D