The piece I created for the "Taking Flight" book...

No Death...

This is my latest piece. It says, "There is no Death." It reminds me that we are eternal...

Taking Flight

It has been quite some time since "the book" came out. I have been so busy, I haven't had time to post about it. I feel so honored to be a part of this amazing creation! I was a little nervous about what people would think of my work and my words...putting my artwork and my words out there for the world to see was hard for me, because I feared judgement, but I am feeling better about it now. My sister is such an incredible person and for her to actually choose me to be in something so precious to her, well, I am in awe and so blessed...

Remember April, 1969

I am somewhere among the folds of red lanterns in Vietnam
and in the sound of my mother’s moans as you made love.
I linger in the recesses of your mind
like smoke from your very last cigarette.
As long as you live you can never forget me.
I know this;
and in a way it is a comfort.
I am an unwanted nuisance of tangles of memories;
like strings of colored lights after years of Christmases gone.
I am there,
still and knowing.
There are times when I can remember your hands;
large and unyielding and rough, like your heart.
There are times I can remember your voice;
drunken and deep, with a Jersey drawl (if there is such a thing)
and I wish things could have been different,
yet stay the same.
It is a safe place...
one in which you and I know all to well.

In the Leaving

"In the Leaving"
was the title of a poem I wrote once
but never even finished it
or ever began it really,
because I could never
truly imagine
life without you--
an expanse of dark and time;
like being wholly
separated from God.
You are my savior of sorts
and "In the Leaving" fills me
with a silent knowing,
yet it can still mystify me
like the line of a song I cannot remember,
but it's just on the tip of my tongue...

Sweeping Beauty #2

This is the latest piece in a series I am doing...I personally love it...made with a vintage dustpan (that has seen better days), heavy wire and a beautiful multi-colored antique broach. Display your favorite photographs on an interresting conversational piece.

Defiance, an antique assemblage I created

NO WORRIES Clock (sold)

Peaches

The peaches
are never as sweet
as they were
at Mrs. Hahn’s—
among the scents
of coffee and aged upholstery
and dusty metal blinds
and the black rotary phone—
time knew no time.

The hours passed
with the little old German lady;
both of us
carried away
with TV trays and coffee nips—
she in her flowered shift
and I, in my summer youth
and the perfectly ripened peaches
on a little brown shelf.

Convenience Store Poet

My husband says I am his convenience store poet...not a derogatory term really. He likes my poetry because it is usually short and he says he gets his quick fix that way...in and out in a jiff and time to contemplate a little afterwards.
I don't think I really consider myself a poet. I feel like I'm just a dabbler compared to so many others that I read, but then again, don't "they" say that you shouldn't compare yourself to others? Who is "they" anyway? I picture a tall futuristic and reflective building in a huge city somewhere with Large Black Letters that say, "THEY."

the Escape

Chrome

This is a short poem I wrote from a word prompt from Poetry Thursday...

my
elongated face
distorted
in the chrome reflection
of the kitchen faucet--
dishes again,
like a million times before
I practice my religion
of housework
and unholy laundry
and again
the dishes
and my distorted face
in the chrome.

Squashed Bucket photograph holder

Fairest One

I revised this mirror a little bit...I added "Fairest One". I should be sure I am finished before I post!

Magnified Beauty

For Kelly

I can see now
beyond the constraints of myself;
the potential
I always knew i had
but never allowed
out to play in the light
of my spirit.
"Own it," she said.
"Own it."
My sister sunshine
you have given me
so much.

Magic Slippers

She always knew there was magic in her slippers...

Dream Pillow

self portrait

Remember your Divinity

Leaving...

Love in shades of white...(sold)

blessed are those...

This is a piece I made for my sister and her husband years ago...it says, "Blessed are those whose lives you touch...spirits intertwining"

Dreaming Heart (sold)

Time Flies (sold)

An assemblage created with Granny Schott's old clock, wire and my paper wings.

Moments

Sweeping Beauty (sold)

This is a holder for photographs that I made. The photographs on it are for example. Any pictures would work well.

Flying Irony (sold)

Milk

Meet me... (sold)

Welcome Home (sold)

No Worries (sold)

Crush

You've grown away from me now--
curled up upon yourself
like a faded fern frond
once moist and green beneath my fingers
and
now you are
crispy
crackled and bleak
crumbled in the palm of my hand
--so fragile
you are,
beneath my crush.

Home

"Home"

Somewhere between darkness and light
I am here.
waiting for you once again
as the earth awakens
and stretches her arms around me,
still, I ache for your arms.
What are you doing this minute
under the fluorescent lights
and in the bustle of hallways,
spreading your compassion like the tide
over those hurting hearts
that feel so far from home.
Return again to me my love
for I am so far from you now,
so far from you, my home.

early rising

I have begun waking at 5 a.m. Not due to lack of sleep... It is a way to refresh my inner self. It is difficult finding the time when you are a mother of five and this time is golden to me. I usually drink coffee, but lately I have been drinking tea...somehow it makes me feel closer to my mother and my sister, who have been drinking tea religiously for years.
It is hard for me to type for the eyes of others, as when I journal, it is sporadic and ragged, yet dotted with lines of loveliness...a line of poetry or two. I am going to participate in poetry Thursday's with my sister's adamant urging. She inspires me and I love to watch her artwork progress. With each new painting a part of herself is born...like a butterfly just beginning to open its wings.

snow

...today I took an afternoon nap with the baby. I love the sound of his little tiny breath, and the scent of his hair. Snow was wafting down outside the window in downy feathers and he and I, with heavy eyes, drifted off to sleep.

Newly Fallen

I found the leaves
today,
neatly pressed in pairs and threes
between the pages of
the dic tion ar y
as I looked up
Entrepreneur.
I imagined you there
in your soul soaked old man coat
(the one I mended with silver thread)
conducting a
deliberate
&
silent gathering
of the newly fallen
as you flowed through
the arms of forest--
contemplating which
of thousands
to send
to me
to win back my heart
which was
never really lost.
I found the leaves today...

leaves

Christian came home Friday with a suprize for me. "I know how much you love leaves mom." he said, as he reached deep into his coat pocket and produced a bulging handful of brightly colored leaves...

page 35

pale wrists of God
salt the earth in slow motion
accumulating in a
steady gathering of
hours,
minutes,
seconds...
and still
the day seeps sleepily
from under the hem
of my tattered white robe,
oozing thick and
ungatherable,
no matter how frantic
my hands.
And looking up from my chore
I can see no further
than the sloppy street corner
beyond the pane that divides
cold from warm.
Still I brighten
and dry my hands
knowing you are turning
toward home.

Remembrance

As Queen Anne’s finest rolls down its sleeves,
And the dusk falls thick on the heels of the eve,
Silhouettes of bare branches finger the sky,
And Winter smoothes her white sheets with a sigh
Of warm remembrance –
Fall you and Spring I.