Erasing the past –collecting ash with chopsticks –infertile practiceembrace, learn, and recreatewe are clay – artist’s magic.
I offer Rage a chairinvite a conversation She rants about childhoodand neglect, powerlessnessin the face of abuse And I nod and remember,suggest she’s also feeling grief And she talks about cryingalone, no one caring, and howI don’t let her cry anymore I put up walls, I agree,and ask how I can help Stop leaving me […]
Wee rowan laddrums me into nighta fabled rhythmconjuring mysticaloneiric encounters There is freedomin dreamingslipping egoβs holdsoul taking flight There is sorrow toofor when the drummerβssong is donemorning must come. (Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Yes, those porch rail flowers are a gift to passersby! I should be more grateful for them.
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I am not a gardener, and my neighbours put me to shame, but I do enjoy their efforts.
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π
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Such bright colours.
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Thanks.
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Beautiful splash of color π
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Thanks.
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Welcome!
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Itβs a happy colour.
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It really is. Thanks.
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Love the colour! So cheery!
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Thanks
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So lovely! β€
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Thanks Deborah!
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