A simple breath, the bubble forms
then floats in search of things adored
keen awareness, filling bareness
collections placed and interlaced
a meaning soon restored.
She dipped below an ocean wave
And gave with grace a treasure saved
of centuries old, its story told
seasons more to yet unfold
A single pearl unscathed.
From Collections from Breathing – a WIP book of poetry
We do it from time to time. Right?
I’ve seen you do so (when I wasn’t disappearing).
“WordPress? Blogging? Later …” you’ve said.
Well, here’s a quick re-emergence, a brief “shout out” to say,
GIVE ME A MINUTE. I’M ON A ROLL.
In every fabric of my soul
where fibers weave and thread
where stitching seems quite flawless
there are stains from when I bled
Ah, but isn’t it quite marvelous
to know this quilt has tracked
all my strains and struggles
yet I still remain intact.
Yes, I still remain intact.
— by C. Dennis-Willingham
photo image – quilt of Maya Angelou made by Faith Ringgold
via Fabric
We were born. We didn’t have a choice.
We didn’t enroll for this class called “LIFE.”
Why would we ever want to “unenroll”?
We might miss something unexpected, something better.
Yes, some days all the hallways are the same.
They lead to the same old classroom,
the same old teachers.
Pencils get dull.
The roof leaks.
Trash cans get filled. Emptied.
But then on the big cork board in the hallway, we see something new.
So even as we sneeze through the dusty air,
step over the nails,
hold our hands over our ears as the hammers pound
and the saws whiz
there’s a new spring in our step.
Something better is coming.
image credit
via Enroll
It is quite indisputable
we all can act delusional
I believe it to be suitable
to live a life unusual
The world is not inscrutable
it’s alive with things quite beautiful
and everything’s improvable
Just try.
photo credit
via Inscrutable
Once you get rid of the riffraff, the world is calm and beautiful.
I created this image by merging two of my paintings via photoshop.
daily word press prompt: via Riff
I just had a birthday
but they say it’s been a year
so I am here
standing strong
a thumbs up and a cheer.
Fifteen years ago, I wrote an entry in my journal about turning 45. Soon afterward, I copied the pages and turned it into a piece of art. I painted a journal (the image is flat) then made it three-dimensional by coating a separate piece of card stock with gesso. I glued it so it would protrude from the canvas.
In the original journal, I wrote how, inside, I was the same person who played guitar at sunsets, had intimate conversations with perfect strangers, and questioned everything about life.
Today, I have more answers. But I will always question.
What I positively know to be true is this–a line from a song:
I have seen His/Her face many times.
And for that, I am forever grateful.
And, as my 28 year-old son once said at the age of two,
And he said this when no music was playing. A lesson to live by.
I grow my flowers lovingly
I touch, their pedals sigh
from knowing of their task in life
–delight and mystify.
The rose, it’s thorns protective, pierce
a skin, naive of threat
but once a droplet, red, descends
the memory’s inset
As the milkweed draws the monarchs
quite stupefied am I
to learn a universe as this
creates to gratify.
Early artwork by CD-W (I guess because of its simplicity, it’s still one of my favorites)
Carolyn Dennis-Willingham 