HER-story:

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

Monday, December 31

releasing 2018


releasing 2018...

keeping my beloved Nicaragua in my heart...



Sunday, December 30

dreams


Last night, I dreamed I was creating enormous quartz crystal sculptures...

I was also making gargantuan gemstone rings...

My sculpture is calling to me...

snapshot - some of my favorite wearable sculpture, solid sterling bangles created for spiritual warriors of light 

Saturday, December 29

always something there to remind me


"I walk along the city streets you used to walk along with me -

And every step I take reminds me of just how we used to be - 

Well, how can I forget you, girl?

When there is always something there to remind me -

Always something there to remind me -

As shadows fall, I pass a small cafe where we would dance at night -

And I can't help recalling how it felt to kiss and hold you tight -

Well, how can I forget you, girl?

When there is always something there to remind me -

Always something there to remind me -

I was born to love her, and I will never be free -

You'll always be a part of me -

Oh whoa ooh whoa ooh whoa oh -

If you should find you miss the sweet and tender love we used to share -

Just go back to the places where we used to go and I'll be there..."

- as sung by the Naked Eyes

yes, yet another selfie...I am going through a major 80s musical phase and figure my children will treasure these selfies of their MAMA one day 




Friday, December 28

alignment


"You are expanding wildly within and your powerful ripple is causing havoc around you.

Your change has been noticed and causing distress for some.

Chaos is inevitable now you are shifting into your true being.
It’s up to you: Will you choose the chaos or will the chaos choose you?
Both have the same outcome.
To drop you into BEing.
In alignment of you.
Will it be a fight for things to stay the same and draining you of your life force?
Or will it be uncomfortably surrendering into the liberating change the Universe is conspiring to create for you?
Slowly but surely the drums that are playing in your soul will tremble loose everything that no longer honours your highest truth.
You choose this path.
Walk it speaking your own voice
Radiantly dance into the night
Woman you are too awake.
Face your boundlessness and roam free."

Sharona Lautoe

self-portrait - my shoulder 

Thursday, December 27

still making love



"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)


Wednesday, December 26

a woman like that


I heard this song on the radio last night. 

I remember saving up money to buy the 45 single...

"Jessie is a friend, yeah

I know he's been a good friend of mine

But lately something's changed that ain't hard to define

Jessie's got himself a girl and I want to make her mine
And she's watching him with those eyes
And she's loving him with that body, I just know it
Yeah 'n' he's holding her in his arms late, late at night
You know
I wish that I had Jessie's girl
I wish that I had Jessie's girl
Where can I find a woman like that
I play along with the charade
There doesn't seem to be a reason to change
You know, I feel so dirty when they start talking cute
I wanna tell her that I love her
But the point is probably moot
'Cause she's watching him with those eyes
And she's loving him with that body, I just know it
And he's holding her in his arms late, late at night
You know
I wish that I had Jessie's girl
I wish that I had Jessie's girl
Where can I find a woman like that
Like Jessie's girl
I wish that I had Jessie's girl
Where can I find a woman
Where can I find a woman like that
And I'm looking in the mirror all the time
Wondering what she don't see in me
I've been funny, I've been cool with the lines
Ain't that the way love supposed to be
Tell me, where can I find a woman like that
You know, I wish that I had Jessie's girl
I wish that I had Jessie's girl
I want Jessie's girl
Where can I find a woman like that
Like Jessie's girl
I wish that I had Jessie's girl
I want, I want Jessie's girl..."
- Rick Springfield

snapshot - selfie from Christmas Eve



Tuesday, December 25

pleather and diamonds my dear


Noche Buena...
dressed in my pleather pants and my grandmother's diamonds...my dear...

snapshot - my dinosaur wreath 

Monday, December 24

Noche Buena




- vintage snapshot of my grandparents' home -



Tonight families gather to celebrate each other and to honor Christ’s birth.

Those who are far away are missed more than ever.

Those who have passed away are always remembered.

A feast is prepared and enjoyed amidst laughter and song.

At midnight, bells ring to announce La Misa del Gallo, midnight mass with choir and candlelight.

Esta noche es Noche-Buena
Y no es noche de dormir.
– old Spanish verse

Sunday, December 23

all I needed



"Looking from a window above, it's like a story of love -

Can you hear me?

Came back only yesterday 

I'm moving further away,

Want you near me
All I needed was the love you gave -
All I needed for another day 
And all I ever knew 
Only you 
Sometimes when I think of [your] name 
When it's only a game 
And I need you 
Listen to the words that you say 
It's getting harder to stay 
When I see you
All I needed was the love you gave 
All I needed for another day 
And all I ever knew 
Only you 
This is going to take a long time 
And I wonder what's mine 
Can't take no more 
Wonder if you'll understand 
It's just the touch of your hand 
Behind a closed door 
All I needed was the love you gave 
All I needed for another day 
And all I ever knew 
Only you..."

- Vince Clarke

selfie 


Saturday, December 22

succulent soulfulness

- my artwork - my soul's expression -
"People discuss my art and pretend to understand as if it were necessary to understand, when it's simply necessary to love." - Claude Monet

I actually love when someone questions my creations.

I don't always have the answers.  

I create from a place of succulent soulfulness...  

...in complete freedom without the need to please anyone, without the need to explain...

It is the soul that speaks through my artwork and communicates with my collectors.

from my journals



Friday, December 21

the art of motherhood


 "I may not work outside the home, but I sure as heck work in it.

Be it homeschooling, housework, raising my kids, or working from home, I have stuff to do. I don’t sit around all day, eating cheesecake and napping.

Don’t assume that just because someone doesn’t leave the house for work, they’re just waiting for someone else to come along and give them something to do with their time."

- Melissa Charles

my children come first...motherhood is a sacred dance I have chosen and been blessed with...

Thursday, December 20

your words in my head


"I can hold my breath.
I can bite my tongue.
I can stay awake for days,
if that's what you want,
be your number one.

I can fake a smile.
I can force a laugh.
I can dance and play the part,
if that's what you ask,
give you all that I am.

I can do it...
but I'm only human.
And I bleed when I fall down.
I'm only human,
and I crash and I break down.

Your words in my head,
knives in my heart.
You build me up,
then I fall apart,
'cause I'm only human.

I can turn it on,
be a good machine.
I can hold the weight of worlds,
if that's what you need,
be your everything.

I can do it...
I'll get through it,
but I'm only human...
just a little human.

I can take so much,
until I've had enough..."
- C. Perri

I cannot fake a smile, much less a laugh and I am a protective lioness with those I love.










Wednesday, December 19

balance


"...and lately I've begun wondering 
if you're trying to tell me something 

we used to talk all night
and do things alone together 

and I've begun

(as a reaction to a feeling)
to balance
the pleasure of loneliness
against the pain
of loving you "

- Nikki Giovanni



Tuesday, December 18

je suis

Je suis ton pile -
Tu es mon face -
Toi mon nombril -
Et moi ta glace -
Tu es l’envie et moi le geste -
Toi le citron et moi le zeste -
Je suis le thé, tu es la tasse -
Toi la guitare et moi la basse -
Je suis la pluie et tu es mes gouttes -
Tu es le oui et moi le doute -
T’es le bouquet je suis les fleurs -
Tu es l’aorte et moi le coeur -
Toi t’es l’instant moi le bonheur -
Tu es le verre je suis le vin -
Toi tu es l’herbe et moi le joint -
Tu es le vent j’suis la rafale -
Toi la raquette et moi la balle -
T’es le jouet et moi l’enfant -
T’es le vieillard et moi le temps -
Je suis l’iris tu es la pupille -
Je suis l’épice toi la papille -
Toi l’eau qui vient et moi la bouche -
Toi l’aube et moi le ciel qui s’couche -
T’es le vicaire et moi l’ivresse -
T’es le mensonge moi la paresse -
T’es le guépard moi la vitesse -
Tu es la main moi la caresse -
Je suis l’enfer de ta pécheresse -
Tu es le ciel moi la terre, hum -
Je suis l’oreille de ta musique -
Je suis le soleil de tes tropiques -
Je suis le tabac de ta pipe -
T’es le plaisir je suis la foudre -
Tu es la gamme et moi la note -
Tu es la flamme moi l’allumette -
T’es la chaleur j’suis la paresse -
T’es la torpeur et moi la sieste -
T’es la fraîcheur et moi l’averse -
Tu es les fesses je suis la chaise -
Tu es bémol et moi j’suis dièse -
T’es le laurel de mon hardy -
T’es le plaisir de mon soupir -
T’es la moustache de mon trotski -
T’es tous les éclats de mon rire -
Tu es le chant de ma sirène -
Tu es le sang et moi la veine -
T’es le jamais de mon toujours -
T’es mon amour t’es mon amour -
Je suis ton pile -
Toi mon face -
Toi mon nombril -
Et moi ta glace -
Tu es l’envie et moi le geste -
T’es le citron et moi le zeste! -
Je suis le thé, tu es la tasse -
Toi la putain et moi la passe -
Tu es la tombée moi l’épitaphe -
Et toi le texte, moi le paragraphe -
Tu es le lapsus et moi la gaffe -
Toi l’élégance et moi la grâce -
Tu es l’effet et moi la cause -
Toi le divan moi la névrose -
Toi l’épine moi la rose -
Tu es la tristesse moi le poète -
Tu es la belle et moi la bête -
Tu es le corps et moi la tête -
Tu es le corps. hummm ! 
T’es le sérieux moi l’insouciance -
Toi le flic moi la balance -
Toi le gibier moi la potence -
Toi l’ennui et moi la transe -
Toi le très peu moi le beaucoup -
Moi le sage et toi le fou -
Tu es l’éclair et moi la poudre -
Toi la paille et moi la poutre -
Tu es le surmoi de mon ça -
C’est toi qu’arrives des mois si ?
Tu es la mère et moi le doute -
Tu es le néant et moi le tout -
Tu es le chant de ma sirène -
Toi tu es le sang et moi la veine -
T’es le jamais de mon toujours -
T’es mon amour t’es mon amour -
- Carla Bruni


Monday, December 17

his love exhausted her stars


"He returned to her and his lips awakened every atom in her body. His love exhausted her stars, she could not help it! She stumbled and lost her balance, wrapped herself in his moonlight and forever she seasoned his love." 
- R.M.Drake


Sunday, December 16

liquid moonlight



"A Wild Woman doesn't want to be your Girly friend
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 restores you to your own wild nature."
- Alison Nappi 

Saturday, December 15

quiet in the rain


"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...





Friday, December 14

as in love


"light reflects from your shadow,
it is more than I thought could exist,
you move through the room,
like breathing was easy,
if someone believed me,

they would be,
as in love with you as I am,
they would be,
as in love with you as I am,
they would be,
as in love with you as I am,
they would be,
in love, love, love...

and everyday,
I'm learning about you,
the things that no one else sees,
and the end comes too soon,
like dreaming of angels,

and leaving without them,
and with words unspoken,
a silent devotion,
I know you know what I mean,
and the end is unknown,
but I think I'm ready,
as long as you're with me,

being
as in love with you as I am
as in love, love, love..." 

- Romy Madley Croft

Thursday, December 13

can you love me


"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


snapshot of my eye