8/16/17 What is a land artist? To be honest this is a question I asked myself when I came across an article on it. The movement emerged during the 1960’s and 70’s in part as a statement in opposition to the idea that gallery’s and museums were the only places of artistic activity. At the […]
6/26/17 Notes to Myself: Dreams, like water droplets cling to the slippery, sharp edge like water droplets. Waiting to fall or evaporate into something else. Yet there they are so beautiful from the outside. Perfect in their form before they have begun to travel. Shall I go up close and look inside their shiny reflection? […]
4/20/17 Notes to Myself: I don’t know. And sometimes that feels scary. Sometimes it feels like I don’t know where I’m going but I don’t think about that too long. When I’m creating that seems to disappear into the atmosphere and there’s a great peace within my soul. Maybe I can be a flower. I’m […]
3/10/17 Notes to Myself:Freedom I feel it! It’s like facing the wind and letting my petals flex without fear. It’s not outside myself it is within. I can stop looking for it. It’s here. Smiling, vibrant and strong. I won’t be swept away into nothingness. I will be liberated from all that is temporary and […]
3/2/17 Notes to Myself:Comparing, shadows depletes my soul. It discourages my true spirit and that of others, always. It’s a harm I do to myself when I practice it. And it invalidates everyone’s unique and precious potential, including my own. I read recently… “My experiences will directly reflect my thoughts.” I rather my experiences not […]
1/25/2017 Notes to Myself: How is it the white slats of my Adirondack Chair are glistening in the sun at the end of January? It’s beautiful but I don’t like it. Not for now! Not for January. Where is my winter? My snow? Is it among these slats of white? Or has it slipped through […]
1/10/16 Notes to Myself: “Eternity is called whole, not because it has parts, but because it is lacking in nothing.” Thomas Aquinas My spirit is whole and complete constantly seeking to open like a rose. My humanness provides contrast, like thorns on a stem, from where I can blossom.