The day started out pretty well, even though it began with less than six hours of sleep, at 4:40 a.m. I got up at 5:30 and did all the good-girl things first: I wrote, I ate breakfast, I took time to admire the beautiful sky and its hazy crescent moon. I made a huge effort … read more Before dawn
Tag: light
The quiet hours
The tea cup warms my hands as I sink back into the leather recliner and snuggle my feet under a fleece blanket. The only light comes from the lava lamp on the mantel and the faint glow of the skyscrapers across the way. There are no sounds at all. Branches make a sumi painting of … read more The quiet hours
A summer’s day
Had the air conditioning on in the car today. It’s January 17. 76 degrees here in Atlanta, according to our car’s gauge. A week ago, ice on the roads kept the workers away from finishing our house. I read last week that another big chunk of Antarctica has an 11-mile crack and may be about … read more A summer’s day
Unframed
I detest frames, and they detest me. Whenever I try to frame my art, the universe pushes back, hard. This morning I wasted more than half an hour trying to convert a frame with a sawtooth hanger into one with eye screws and wire. I must do this because it is a rule of display for … read more Unframed
An act of faith
I believe in the Light. I believe the Light pulses in every living thing, in every part of the world, in every corner of the universe. I believe that all we see and know comes from the power of the Light. I believe that every life’s purpose is to manifest the Light, in all its colors. I believe that … read more An act of faith
The invisible tree
Of all the Christmas trees I’ve decorated, I only remember one. The most beautiful one. I was single, and working at my first newspaper job. I lived alone in a darling apartment, the upper floor of a former carriage house behind a very grand house on Mahoning Avenue. Depression hovered. I was learning to take care … read more The invisible tree
Walking in the dark
By the time I finished all my chores, it was 5:30. There wasn’t much daylight left. I went for a walk. The shortest day of the year. The planet shifts twice a year. Every year. Without fail. Our mountain roads have no streetlights and not much of a shoulder. I strode quickly to stay warm … read more Walking in the dark
Living like lava
Luscious pink blobs float the length of the lamp. One elongates, turns into a skull, dies, rises, breaks off into a balloon, drips down, merges with a teardrop, becomes a head on a body, head slides down the body, merges, grows, distends into a tall fish, breaks into balls reaching for each other, thinning, two fingerlets … read more Living like lava
City lights at night
Dark comes so early now – it’s hard to make myself get out and exercise. But the evening was warm, the air moist, a lovely mist had rolled in. I went for a walk in the city. Even that early, 6:15 p.m., the city seemed quiet. Still lots of traffic, but the air itself muffled … read more City lights at night
Kandinsky on materialism
Feeling deprived of spirit and art, I started the morning by re-reading Wassily Kandinsky’s “Concerning the Spiritual in Art.” That got my day going right. One of the quotes I highlighted: Our minds, which are even now only just awakening after years of materialism, are infected with the despair of unbelief, of lack of purpose and … read more Kandinsky on materialism