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,...An Art Path In a Pandemic
Oh my, here we are. This painting is several years old, but eerily it makes me think of the virus, its stealthy infiltration of our systems and our cities. The last week has been a hard one for me because I have been awash in fear and grief. Not...Lesson from a Horse: Part II
Last year at this time I went to a daylong personal growth workshop with horses. In these workshops horses are not ridden; participants touch, lead and observe them. Powerful, gentle and extremely sensitive, horses are excellent mirrors because they attune to what our...A Search for Home
I’ve been thinking about home. And the longing for home. For a long time I have wanted to move, probably out of Minnesota, but when I think about where to go, I get muddled. Because I think there might be several kinds of home, and mine pull me in different...The Day After
I am posting this blog on the new moon, the day after the midterm elections. We begin two new cycles–lunar and political–yet much has not changed. I found helpful today the wisdom in this poem by Carrie Newcomer so I thought I’d pass it on....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)
