|Posted on July 13, 2014 at 3:45 PM||comments (0)|
Little fingers flutter with puzzle pieces putting them into place. Like parchment crinkled and ready to break. There’s a fine line somewhere and yet it is invisible. No one can see it but me. I help her guide her hand to another piece and show her where and how to put it in place. She’s so little. So frightened. Of me? Why would she be frightened of me?
She’s Carly the puzzler. Fat blocks of puzzle, pink, blue, yellow, orange, lilac… She likes being able to put them in right so they are nice and neat. She concentrates hard, barely noticing that I am there. I like you, she says to me. I want to smile, but I have no face.
She’s very proud that she can put the pieces in the right place. Diane softly guides her and that helps her out.
She’s three. She sees the mittens and thinks about the snow and making tunnels with Cathy. Cathy helps her with many things like tying her shoe laces. She knows she has to learn these things. Cathy likes to teach her.
She tried to ride the trike while she brushed her teeth. She felt big sitting on the seat, so high and near the tree.
|Posted on July 6, 2014 at 4:50 PM||comments (0)|
I define Well-Being as a basic human right that is required for existence on all levels of life which includes Physical, Emotional, Spiritual, and Sexual well-being.
|Posted on July 6, 2014 at 4:10 PM||comments (0)|
Looking at “Grandma’s Garden,” I am reminded of times spent with my grandmother on the family farm. I followed the white dog around the buildings and the acreage surrounding it each day for hours. I saw beautiful vistas of patchwork landscapes lined with green trees and tackle still hanging in the barn, dried with age. I recall these times now with great pleasure and longing for simpler times.
It was summertime and very warm under the great blue Kansas sky. I sat with my pencils and drew what I saw; naïve sketches that related my feelings and reactions to each subject. Color and how it worked together became very important to me. I was twelve or thirteen and impressionable. I tried to draw the horses that grazed in the fields and other scenes I would come upon. When I was stuck in the farmhouse, I drew copies of other peoples work. This would include “Holly Hobby” and “Onion-head” children. I looked at Grandpa’s prize horses in pictures on the wall and tried to emulate them with little success.
When I tired from my adventures with the dog, we would lie under the shade of the big walnut tree and nap. I loved that dog. She was beautiful with her long white coat and perky, sometimes bending ears. I felt safe in my solitude.
When I spent time in the garden with Grandma, I was at peace, something I didn't know much about. I just knew it was kind and gentle and I wanted it all of the time.
|Posted on June 26, 2014 at 10:55 AM||comments (0)|
At times I am a marionette
hanging from a string
An unknown force skipping with me
hopping with me to the beat
of a stronger drum
I watch as the Others carry me through
my mind and spirit directing from afar
I dangle waiting
for the next tug
Sometimes I am a bird
soaring gracefully on the air
I am an eagle at ease
in my Self flying free
Then I am grounded to the soil
rocking in rhythm
cycling one day to another
moment to moment
thought into action into reality
I create myself every step of the way
to be me
|Posted on June 13, 2014 at 6:00 PM||comments (0)|
like a cleansing and purging of the soul
it can drain you of poison toxins negative thoughts
and help you find release relief and hope
looking or creating we become someone different
someone stronger bolder
Art is neither good nor bad something to be scrutinized exploited contained or blamed
we are creators of our own truths
we do not lie in fields of heather to pretend we are done
no we become part of the whole
one violet piece of heather one amongst millions
we are Art incarnate
existing to grow
to do something better than living
we are alive
we create life on the palette
on the ten-pound
on the canvas and on the heart
Art expresses love fear strength passion
all things within and out
the freedom to express ourselves to shine as no other to change our world
to share our Self with others
Art is not lonely but connects us to others in a spiritual realm
passion experienced no other way
- Lesa Weller