Soft - Theme Thursday

Time ebbs and flows
soft,relative
to perception, physics.

Disintegrating in proportion
to speed.
Linear, circular, biological
pliable, transient.

Impression of fading memory
once lived
Now lost in the mists of.....
everything, nothing.

Brick - Theme Thursday

Each of us significant
playing our part in forming
the evolving wall of humanity.

Shared experience cements us
in love, fear, joy, pain.
Individuals strive incessantly
Courageous souls setting their course
for unity, betterment, evolution.

Undermined by apathy, hostility, neglect
creeping in and sapping strength.
Hindered, never acquiescent.
Ever mindful of the promise
Of universal oneness.

Thursday Tale

The way she looks today will stay with me forever. The graceful curve of her neck, those billowing skirts, arranged just so as she turns to answer my knock. The delicate pink skin glowing with the unconscious beauty of youth. The anticipation in her eyes that turns to concern as I lower my head to deliver the news that will send her world crashing down. My little girl will not be married today afterall....

Sunday Scribbling

MAY IS...

Maia is the Greek goddess of fertility, from whom we derive the name of the calendar month of May. She was the eldest daughter of Atlas, and one of seven sisters, all of whom we can see in the night skies in the Pleiades constellation.

The first of May is May-Day when people all over the world dance around the maypole and celebrate the majesty of nature. Here revelers in 1907 celebrate at the National Park Seminary in the US.

It's Mothers Day and the acknowledgement of all that's given throughout the year. Here Florence Owens Thompson, 32 year old farm worker and mother of seven is shown in a pensive moment during the great depression.

May in Australia means the last days of Autumn. It means succumbing to the joys of hunkering down in front of the fire with a steaming cup of coffee and reading a good book.
Here renowned Scottish painter John Faed RA, RSA (1819 - 1902) charmingly represents My Ain Fireside a traditional Celtic song in art.

May Day in AustraliaThe idea of using a proletarian holiday celebration as a means to attain the eight-hour day was first born in Australia. The workers here decided in 1856 to organize a day of complete stoppage together with meetings and entertainment as a demonstration in favour of the eight-hour day.

Sunday Scribbling

Fluffy white clouds of happiness
Edge closer
Balanced upon a foil lined tray
With care
A luminous treasure, fairy shaped
Anticipation mounts
Masterpiece set down with pride
Everybody singing
Breath swells in tiny lungs
Moist exhale
Candles flicker and rekindle
Try again
Extinguished in a puff
Much cheering
Happy Birthday to me!

Iridescent
Beautiful
Glimmering
Human Nature
Spirit Form
Unborn
Glowing
Whole
Evolving
Welcome
Love
Waiting
Patiently
To Shine

Sunday Scribblings

Ever since I saw this picture, I've been thinking about designers and how they influence how we dress, eat, drink and indeed how long we breastfeed our infants....

A few years ago the picture of a standing child (toddler) breastfeeding would have been shocking, confronting and even indecent...still is to many.

There is copious medical evidence to substantiate the value of prolonged feeding to the health of our infants, and still mothers are judged by some for doing what they deem best for their child.

I personally recall sitting at a cafe discreetly feeding my eighteen month old child and having a middle aged man stare at me and pointedly move his chair to face his back to me.

Now, I'm pretty confident as a mother and within myself but I felt that touch of embarrassment, shame and anger creeping in at his obvious ignorance and intended rudeness. Fortunately I was with someone who reaffirmed with me my rights around these issues...what a blessing a good strong friend is :)

With this in mind, it's interesting to me that one retailer in a trendy European maternity boutique (above pic) has chosen to make this statement in a store window and it's flying around the internet to great acclaim. It would seem that there is a shift toward public acceptance of breastfeeding.

Maybe now that it's becoming fashionable to breastfeed, this will become the accepted norm, and our society will actively encourage mothers to nourish their children in this way, for as long as they wish.

We can but hope....

VISIT SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS FOR MORE POSTS

Sunday Scribbling

Be Generous

Be Happy

Be Grateful

Be Friends

Be Fuddled

Be Productive

Be Forgetful

Be Honest


Be Imperfect

Be Yourself

Theme Thursday

Each face precious
A raindrop quenching
Life's endless thirst
For the unique divinity
That is you and me


PICTURE - THE BIRTH OF VENUS - SANDRO BOTTICELLI

What have we taught our children?

We've taught them about nearly
Nearly old, cool, pretty enough


We've taught our children

To constantly live in the nearly
Children wanting desperately to be
All the while missing out on being

It's easy to look at kids and say

I was never in a hurry to grow up
I was never rude to my parents
We never had those issues...
Back when we were kids

But who created these changes?

Was it the toddlers
Who wear miniature adult clothes
Or the adults who manufacture them

Was it the girls
Who want dolls with sexy clothes
Or the adults who market and buy them

Was it the teenagers
Who dabble in drinking and violence
Or the adults who advertise them
With infantine sterotypes

Families who role model abuse?

And so it goes on
In an endless cycle of blame
Until somebody stops blaming

And starts listening

Maybe we can win back
Their trust love and respect
And they can win back ours

When we become models of Being

Human, whole, complete, present

Not waiting for our big moment
But here for them

Right Now

PICTURE

Paper
Turning into
A token of the sensual
A precious vestige of humanity
Hanging on as the wheels of history
Inch forward through to the technological age
The innately satisfying scratch of pen on paper
Liquid paints soaking in as luscious strokes absorb
Into the greedily porous material changing the way
A picture looks, blurring of the edges make it an image
Reflective of its former self but never the same
Blending, seeping, encompassing, absorbing
The other colours highlighting the grandeur
Emphasising the blemishes of our culture
Blending, seeping, absorbing
Finding ourselves enhanced
Integrating the humanity
Of experience
Into reality
Forever


PICURE - COLOURED CREPE PAPER

free

to be

who i am

just who i be
is it me
who is
free
free indeed
just me wholly
as meant to be
being free as
free can
be



PICTURE - ROYALTY FREE STOCK PHOTOS

luck...

An unrelated series of events bestowed upon us by the Gods of Providence

An incarnation as a mouse being toyed with then eaten by the cat

Feeling the hope for escape gradually ebb until life seeps away completely

The cat, lithe, superior, callous, intent on savouring the meal ahead

Confident the existence of this mouse is solely to satisfy it's appetite

The victim of a subterfuge, a scam, a sham, somebody else's agenda

Being blown along, at the mercy of what might happen next

The perpetrator, wounding a victim through thoughtless words and deeds

Sliding into the role of aggressor, fitting someones idea of who they are..again

or...

Something we choose to make for ourselves every morning when we open our eyes

A decision we stick with when things seem tough, unfair or inexplicable

Having the courage to face another day when it all seems too *&^$ing hard

Those little choices we make to stay on track when it would be easier to just give in

To another person's agenda, opinion or intent for us..'coz that's how it's always been

Luck, to me, is a choice to define who I am on my own terms

Every day I have the right to deal with my life in a way that fulfills me

Blaming circumstances is tiring and hinders the opportunity for a better outcome

I choose to make my own luck.

PICTURE-COLOURFUL LUCKY FISHES-YANG YULIANG

SPACE
MUST you sneeze inside my ear
and must you suck upon my hair?
Must you throw that bowl so far
while singing twinkle little star?
Must you follow me around
so very close without a sound?
So stepping back on little fingers
screams inside my head still linger.
We are still one, we're not yet two
I am old and you are new.
Bound by love, frustration all
power divine for one so small.
MUUUUMMY
Space is but a dream of mine
sleep my elusive valentine...

PICTURE - THE LOUVRE

BIRTH

muscles clench

...and release...

immediacy of task

moving into the world

no way out but through

gripping, primeval, raw

ultimately human

alive, slippery,beautiful

so warm, so complete

here at last....

sky
azure blue
corn shining green
magical glimmer enlivens me
sun hope and heart warming radiation
permeates the hibernation of the meanwhile
until I join the sanctity of my little garden world

GLASS
Glimmering in the sunshine
Elusive as a ghost
Cherry red and glorious
Fine grains of sand
Filtered, fired washed to nothingness
Stretched like some magnificent toffee
Endlessly tapering to a drizzling tail
A globe crimson Autumn
Viewed in a swirling mass of colour
A vision of transparency
Solid molten fire
Always moving, always changing
Showing me the world through
The lens of somebody's creation

Fire

BUSHFIRE

So dark

Can't breathe

Hiss and crackle

Radio static ....10 kilometers away...

Hope slowly eroding, passing...GONE