Fruit and Death
Autumn Haiku Sprawled on sunny ground Crunchy leaves and dusty grass Scent of fruit and death AEP 10/9/20 Fruit and death. The scent of autumn, and what comes to mind as I clear out the house we’ve lived in for nearly 30 years. Finding things long forgotten,...Painting With My Dead Friend
Holly, a dear friend of mine, died last summer. She was a writer and a creative soul in many ways, including artmaking of all kinds. She was an imaginative free spirit who appreciated the unconventional. So her art was usually quirky. Self-taught, she didn’t often...Buzzing Bees
In numerous cultures around the world bees were sacred, associated with the Divine Feminine. Archeologists have found images of bees, bee priestesses and bee goddesses dating back millennia. This came to mind in September, when at the women’s workshop I attended on...Images of Insecurity
Until a few days ago I was at a retreat center in upstate New York. Twenty women and the facilitator, Jalaja Bonheim, came together for a week, experiencing the powerful geometry of the circle, allowing sacred space and silence to fortify us and help us move from...Hidden Treasures
Wonder is the heaviest element on the periodic table. Even a tiny fleck of it stops time. Diane Ackerman After five days up on the North Shore I’m noticing that words for a blog are hard to find. Lumbering along rocky beaches, comforted and exhilarated by booming...Share This Post
Welcome to Whisperings
“There is a place where words are born of silence,
A place where the whispers of the heart arise.”
— Rumi
I will ponder here what whispers to me in the silence. I’d love for you to whisper back; maybe we will all get clearer—or maybe, like in the old kids’ game of “telephone” we will end up somewhere else entirely (which would be fun too)
