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.

Follow me on HERE and HERE for daily posts...

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original artwork, prints and more...

Updated Daily: January 2007 - February 2020

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Wednesday, January 31

nadie se trastornaba como él


“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...


Tuesday, January 30

from lips to soul


"it's a lip thing with you.

the first time we met i could not

take my eyes off them.

you probably thought you had something 

in your teeth with the way i was staring.

i know their curvature like the reminiscent

smell of my mother.

give me a photograph of every mouth in the

world and i will pick yours out without question.

i do not have a religion but if i did it

would be them...

...they are what roses and mountains and oceans

could only hope to be.

with you it's a lip thing.

and then it became a heart thing.

and then soul.

and then all."

- Christopher Poindexter



Monday, January 29

fuchsia eyes

2004 hand-dyed silk and concert ticket

a birthday sorpresa he said
i was a bit tired, but went ahead

meeting at the bookstore
in the middle of rain

our waiter was
french
spanish
colombian
quite a cocktail - that mojito
a mountain of gorgonzola cheese, please

annie lennox rocked the house
she's fifty-two not sixty-two
moving like a graceful dancer
with fuchsia eyes...

excerpt from my 2007 journal

Sunday, January 28

dangerous to listen to what they say


"...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...



Saturday, January 27

my love will find you


"I wanted you more than you will ever know, so I sent love to follow wherever you go.

It's high as you wish it.
It's quick as an elf.
You'll never outgrow it...it stretches itself!

So climb any mountain...
climb up to the sky!
My love will find you.
My love can fly!

Make a big splash!
Go out on a limb!
My love will find you.
My love can swim!

It never gets lost, never fades, never ends...
if you're working...
or playing...
or sitting with friends.

You can dance 'til you're dizzy...
paint 'til you're blue...
There's no place, not one, that my love can't find you.

And if someday you're lonely,
or someday you're sad,
or you strike out at baseball,
or think you've been bad...
just lift up your face, feel the wind in your hair. That's me, my sweet baby, my love is right there.

In the green of the grass...
in the smell of the sea...
in the clouds floating by...
at the top of a tree...
in the sound crickets make at the end of the day...

'You are loved. You are loved. You are loved,' they all say.

My love is so high, and so wide and so deep, it's always right there, even when you're asleep.

So hold your head high and don't be afraid to march to the front of your own parade.

If you're still my smal babe or you're all the way grown, my promise to you is you're never alone.

You are my angel, my darling, my star...and my love will find you, wherever you are.

You are loved."

- Nancy Tillman



snapshots from a truly magical day




Friday, January 26

beloved books


"For some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die."

- Anne Lamott

I adore books. I began collecting children's books as a teenager...

My daughter stands amongst magical board books, most of which first belonged to her brother...




Thursday, January 25

impatiently patient

- mixed media from an ongoing series -

"I will be waiting here

for your silence to break

for your soul to shake

for your love to wake." - RUMI




Wednesday, January 24

magic


"I think your applause died out, hands red, tired, and stained with the hue of once excited blood. I think you thought I was magic. Did my curtain lift when I forgot to take my bow? I think you thought you saw mirrors hiding in the fog and light. Backstage and alone I will slide off the cape, set down the hat, and bow to the empty seat I thought you were filling. I think you thought I was magic."
- T. Knott Gregson



Tuesday, January 23

letting go




"Heartbreak is unpreventable; the natural outcome of caring for people and things over which we have no control, of holding in our affections those who inevitably move beyond our line of sight.

Heartbreak begins the moment we are asked to let go but cannot, in other words, it colors and inhabits and magnifies each and every day; heartbreak is not a visitation, but a path that human beings follow through even the most average life. Heartbreak is an indication of our sincerity: in a love relationship, in a life’s work, in trying to learn a musical instrument, in the attempt to shape a better more generous self. Heartbreak is the beautifully helpless side of love and affection and is just as much an essence and emblem of care as the spiritual athlete’s quick but abstract ability to let go. Heartbreak has its own way of inhabiting time and its own beautiful and trying patience in coming and going.

Heartbreak is how we mature; yet we use the word heartbreak as if it only occurs when things have gone wrong: an unrequited love, a shattered dream, a child lost before their time. Heartbreak, we hope, is something we hope we can avoid; something to guard against, a chasm to be carefully looked for and then walked around; the hope is to find a way to place our feet where the elemental forces of life will keep us in the manner to which we want to be accustomed and which will keep us from the losses that all other human beings have experienced without exception since the beginning of conscious time. But heartbreak may be the very essence of being human, of being on the journey from here to there, and of coming to care deeply for what we find along the way.

…If heartbreak is inevitable and inescapable, it might be asking us to look for it and make friends with it, to see it as our constant and instructive companion, and even perhaps, in the depth of its impact as well as in its hindsight, to see it as its own reward. Heartbreak asks us not to look for an alternative path, because there is no alternative path. It is a deeper introduction to what we love and have loved, an inescapable and often beautiful question, something or someone who has been with us all along, asking us to be ready for the last letting go."

- David Whyte

excerpt  from CONSOLATIONS: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words



Monday, January 22

my goals for this year


"I no longer have patience for certain things, not because I’ve become arrogant, but simply because I reached a point in my life where I do not want to waste more time with what displeases me or hurts me. 

I have no patience for cynicism, excessive criticism and demands of any nature. 

I lost the will to please those who do not like me, to love those who do not love me and to smile at those who do not want to smile at me.

I no longer spend a single minute on those who lie or want to manipulate. 

I decided not to coexist anymore with pretense, hypocrisy, dishonesty and cheap praise. 

I do not tolerate selective erudition nor academic arrogance. 

I do not adjust either to popular gossiping. 

I hate conflict and comparisons. 

I believe in a world of opposites and that’s why I avoid people with rigid and inflexible personalities. 

In friendship I dislike the lack of loyalty and betrayal. 

I do not get along with those who do not know how to give a compliment or a word of encouragement. 

Exaggerations bore me and I have difficulty accepting those who do not like animals.

And on top of everything I have no patience for anyone who does not deserve my patience.”

 José Micard Teixeira 


snapshot - one of my pieces in a private collection


Sunday, January 21

one day like any other


THE HOUSE OF BELONGING by David Whyte

"I awoke
this morning

in the gold light
turning this way
and that

thinking for
a moment
it was one
day
like any other.

But
the veil had gone
from my
darkened heart
and
I thought

it must have been the quiet
candlelight
that filled my room,

it must have been
the first
easy rhythm
with which I breathed
myself to sleep,

it must have been
the prayer I said
speaking to the otherness
of the night.

And
I thought
this is the good day
you could
meet your love,

this is the black day
someone close
to you could die.

This is the day
you realize
how easily the thread
is broken
between this world
and the next

and I found myself
sitting up
in the quiet pathway
of light,

the tawny
close grained cedar
burning round
me like fire
and all the angels of this housely
heaven ascending
through the first
roof of light
the sun has made.

This is the bright home
in which I live,
this is where
I ask
my friends
to come,
this is where I want
to love all the things
it has taken me so long
to learn to love.

This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life.

There is no house
like the house of belonging."
- David Whyte

I woke up thinking of this poem...


Saturday, January 20

no longer afraid


"Do you really want to look back on your life and see how wonderful it could have been had you not been afraid to live it?"
- Caroline Myss

detail from dyed silk, circa 2003-2005


Friday, January 19

with a smile


"she was
unstoppable
and she took
anything
she wanted
with a smile."
- R.M. Drake



Thursday, January 18

wrapped in moonlight


"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


Wednesday, January 17

touched your perfect body with her mind


"Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know that she's half crazy
But that's why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength 
And she lets the river answer 
That you've always been her lover 
And you want to travel with her 
And you want to travel blind 
And you know that she will trust you 
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind...


Now Suzanne takes your hand 
And she leads you to the river 
She is wearing rags and feathers 
From Salvation Army counters 
And the sun pours down like honey 
On our lady of the harbour 
And she shows you where to look 
Among the garbage and the flowers 
There are heroes in the seaweed 
There are children in the morning 
They are leaning out for love 
And they will lean that way forever 
While Suzanne holds the mirror 
And you want to travel with her 
And you want to travel blind 
And you know that you can trust her 
For she's touched your perfect body with her mind..."


- L. Cohen (circa 1967)




Tuesday, January 16

born wild and willing to burn

- detail from 2013 mixed media on canvas in a private collection -

"She was never crazy. She just didn't let her heart settle in a cage. She was born wild, and sometimes we need people like her. For it's the horrors in her heart which cause the flames in ours. And she was always willing to burn for everything she has ever loved." - Robert M. Drake

my wild, sacred freedom is expressed through my artwork, my soul's work...

I am wild, sacred and free
- when I create
- when I dance
- when I kiss
- when I make love
- when I write
- when I laugh
...and I am always willing to burn for love...

detail from 2013 mixed media on canvas from an ongoing series where I explore painting as poetry and meditation




Monday, January 15

I just want to be with you...


"If you, if you could return -
Don't let it burn -
Don't let it fade -
I'm sure I'm not being rude -
But it's just your attitude -
It's tearing me apart -
It's ruining every day -
For me -
I swore I would be true -
And fellow, so did you -
So why were you holding her hand?
Is that the way we stand?
Were you lying all the time?
Was it just a game to you?
But I'm in so deep -
You know I'm such a fool for you -
You've got me wrapped around your finger -
Do you have to let it linger?
Do you have to, do you have to, do have to let it linger?
Oh, I thought the world of you -
I thought nothing could go wrong -
But I was wrong, I was wrong -
If you, if you could get by -
Trying not to lie -
Things wouldn't be so confused -
And I wouldn't feel so used -
But you always really knew -
I just want to be with you..."


- The Cranberries, circa 1993


Sunday, January 14

she has mined the gold that was deep inside



"...but even so, just as he starts to leave, when he notices a bit of dirt under his thumbnail, he stops to scrub it out. Although she has never complained at all about his grubby appearance whenever he came in tired from the digs and sat drinking with her, she might feel differently now that she is going to take him upstairs.

He is glad to see the show again because it gives him time to anticipate and dream, to build up to a private finale. Though he doesn't fool himself. She has to have known for a while how much he thinks of her, and yet, kind as she always was when he told her all his troubles, he knows she has another regular man, more sophisticated, more of her world. As one more time he watches the extraordinary grace with which she dances, all that gauzy fabric whirling around her, his longing has a different quality now that he knows his desire will soon be met...

...But it is not just the mechanics of what she does that impressed him. He has all he longed for now, even what he never quite understood before that he wanted. It is not just that she had made him happy. He is laughing to find himself lighter than air. And she has given him a deeper pleasure, too; as if reaching into the center of who he is, she has mined the gold that was deep inside."

- Susan Griffin

Saturday, January 13

stubbornly refuse


"You'll learn, as you get older, that rules are made to be broken. Be bold enough to live life on your terms, and never, ever apologize for it. Go against the grain, refuse to conform, take the road less traveled instead of the well-beaten path. Laugh in the face of adversity, and leap before you look. Dance as though EVERYONE is watching. March to the beat of your own drummer. And stubbornly refuse to fit in." - Mandy Hale



Friday, January 12

beloved high priestess Melba Debayle


detail from mixed media on paper: crystal quartz, silk thread, vintage tulle, vintage gold lame, watercolor, photograph, pen, ink and pencil, circa 2007

Thursday, January 11

beloved baby sister

- detail from a mixed media on paper -

Once upon a time, a beautiful and brilliant little girl with wise wide eyes and an ancient soul captured my heart...my sister, my goddaughter and my beloved friend, happy birthday...




Wednesday, January 10

no puedes por razones técnicas


"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 

Tuesday, January 9

dream a little dream of 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




Monday, January 8

en silencio tu mirada dice mil palabras


"Yo te miro, se me corta la respiración
Cuanto tu me miras se me sube el corazón 
me palpita lento el corazón 
Y en silencio tu mirada dice mil palabras 

La noche en la que te suplico que no salga el sol...

Tu cuerpo y el mio llenando el vacío 
Subiendo y bajando...
Ese fuego por dentro me esta enloqueciendo,
Me va saturando

Con tu física y tu química también tu anatomía
La cerveza y el tequila y tu boca con la mía
Ya no puedo mas 
Ya no puedo mas 
Con esta melodía, tu color, tu fantasía
Con tu filosofía mi cabeza esta vacía
Y ya no puedo mas 
Ya no puedo mas 

Yo quiero estar contigo, vivir contigo
Bailar contigo, tener contigo
Una noche loca 
Ay besar tu boca 
Yo quiero estar contigo, vivir contigo
Bailar contigo, 
tener contigo una noche loca con tremenda loca

Tu me miras y me llevas a otra dimensión 
estoy en otra dimensión
Tu latidos aceleran a mi corazón,
Que ironía del destino no poder tocarte
Abrazarte y sentir la magia de tu olor...

Bailando amor, es que se me va el dolor..."
- Enrique Iglesias 

snapshot of my sweaty shoulder after dancing...