Leaf Fall, Snow Fall
Voracious winds split open to spill their crumbled spoils,
unfurling leaf confetti in airborne swirls and coils.
They empty them on lawn and deck, a sign of what is coming
when winter drops its glittering load—beautiful and numbing.
I do not fear chill prospects, for I’ll be warm and snug
as my house wraps arms around me in its protective hug.
For the Sunday Whirl 615 the prompts are: grim glittering crumble empties confetti voracious unfurls wind split mind sign deck
Click on photos to enlarge.
Yesterday I had a “Collectors of Mexican Folk Art” group visit my house and forgot to close the gate to the upstairs casita after they left. Today while I was in Ajijic, I received the first three photos above from my next door neighbor. Guess Zoe and Coco wanted to go up and meet Frida. For those of you who don’t know, Frida (who died a few years ago) used to spend most of her time up on my dome over my bedroom surveying the surrounding scene. That is her you see in the final photo, taken by me years ago. Since my house is on the side of a mountain, she could see for miles, all the way down to the lake and up to the top of the mountains. She loved to see the action of everyone who passed.
When she died, I put her ashes into this statue of a dog who looked like her and was about her size and cemented it to the top of my dome. It is accessible by a stairway up the side of my house which leads to the terrace outside the casita. Frida would jump up on the ledge and scurry up onto the dome–a trick she learned from the cats when she was an only-puppy and thought she was a cat. Once when I was at another neighbors, I saw Morrie up there with Zoe and Coco, who never met Frida in the Flesh. They evidently learned the way and at the next opportunity, visited her by themselves. As you can see by the second to the final photo that shows the statue of Frida minus her guests, it is a long way up to the top of the dome!
First three photos were taken yesterday by David Bershad. Thanks, David. Last two photos are earlier shots taken by me.
Number 9 Blues
Those eyes,
that song,
A bird the color
of the moon
we met under.
The wind
a ribbon of sadness.
Cold hands,
broken heart—
all the hue
of a trumpet’s lonely staccato.
Click on photos to enlarge.
I did this post for Wednesday Quotes, but after compiling it, realized there is a theme of “Alone.” Oh well, since most of my time is spent alone and what I do when I’m alone is to write or work in my art studio, I guess by some stretch of the imagination, it works.
“Done Begins with Do” was the motto chosen by my class when we graduated from high school and I’ve been following that advice my entire life. I think it applies to the other two quotes, so I’ve included it as well.
“When you’re tired, learn to rest. Don’t quit.”
I have the above line of advice taped to my desk beside my computer. On the other side of it is the one below from The Autumn Garden by Lillian Hellman. (I have since read that the line was actually written by Dashiell Hammett to help her during a period of slight writer’s block.)
“That big hour of decision, the turning point in your life, the someday you’ve counted on when you’d suddenly wipe out your past mistakes, do the work you’d never done, think the way you’d never thought, have what you’d never had––it doesn’t come suddenly. You’ve trained yourself for it while you waited, or you’ve let it all run past you and frittered yourself away.”
Vidalia Onion Dicer. No More Tears!
Sauerkraut and mustard, ketchup, onions, relish—
a hotdog was created merely to embellish.
The tears came later, when the bill came. Go HERE to read the story of the thirty dollar hot dog. And you’ll just have to imagine the story of my my recent forty-dollar corn dog eaten at a hotel in Billings, Montana. Pictured below, its story is too painful to relate. No onions, this time.
Here is the link for the prompt, and here are more poems on the subject for dVerse Poets: Vidalia Onions
When Lou showed a blog of his hand-formed wooden spoons, I had to brag about all of mine. Here they are in permanent display in my kitchen. I sometimes use 5 per recipe. Easier than rinsing and drying off the same spoon with each ingredient added. I purchased these during years of doing art and craft shows as well as on the street from vendors since I moved to Mexico. I hope Lou will put a link to the blog showing his spoons in comments…
For Travel With Intent’s One Word Sunday: Circle
Click on Photos to enlarge and read the captions.
This is the description of the last photo, which was cut off if you clicked on it to enlarge: This little guy rapped loudly on some tree in the neighborhood until I finally went out to see where he was. But, the minute I went out the door, he would freeze and become invisible. Finally, however, I caught him doing his business, whereupon he promptly flew away and has not returned. Here he is eighty feet up in the tree.
This was one of my posts made exactly one year ago today:
Click on photos to enlarge. Explanations of the sculpture are given below the poem.
Anima/Animus
The sword of guilt is something I continually hone,
and in this I feel that I am surely not alone.
Guile and temper are not exclusively my sin,
for animus is something that we all carry within.
In the early nineteenth century, animus was used to mean “temper” and was typically used in a hostile sense. In 1923, it began being used as a term in Jungian psychology to describe the masculine side of women. The anima as the unconscious feminine side of a man. (Excerpts from Wikipedia)
The photos are of my mixed media sculpture entitled Anima/Animus. The detail in the second photo symbolizes the shattering of the male side of the ego by a feminine consciousness. The metal object in the glass case is a small replica of the instrument used to sever heads from bodies in sacrificial preHispanic temple ceremonies. The hammer shattering the glass is meant to symbolize the gentling effect of the feminine on the masculine.
Prompt words today are animus, guilt, guile, exclusive and alon
For Flashback Friday.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 