Ode to a Sweatshirt
As I reached happily for my well worn hooded sweatshirt again this morning, I wondered suddenly why I feel such affection for it, and for all those I’ve ever had, why I am always on the lookout for new ones to replace those that wear out, and why I am so excited when...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...Deep Rest
Still resting in the pause of the sun, the eclipse of the new moon, listening to the stars sing in the dark… What is singing to you now? Where is stillness waiting for you? I’d love to hear. (click on the picture for a sharper view)...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...Respite from the Mind
I’ve just returned home from several enchanted days on Lake Superior. My greedy mind — muted for awhile by movement, story, song, beauty, affection, and silence — now wants to read mail, catch up on national news, make necessary appointments, resume tasks set...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)
