Wednesday, December 13, 2023

A Spill of Acorns

The fortune teller takes your hand and leads you to the woods. 

You wonder if the decision to meet by moonlight was a good idea, but your feet follow his until the only sounds are leaf-shaped. You pause in a small clearing, and the fortune teller draws nine acorns out of his pocket and cups them between his palms. He encourages you to place your hands under his and together you raise the nuts skyward, a gift for the stars. When he brings your hands back to eye-level, the acorns are warm and radiating light.  He invites you to sit next to him as he gently spreads his fingers, tumbling the precious globes onto the damp earth of the forest floor.  And it is then that he begins to tell your future in a spill of acorns...

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Thursday, October 31, 2013

New Design and the Story Behind It...


On the night my mother died, it snowed.

I got the call, and drove through the flake-laden darkness to her hospice room for the final time. Death had wiped away all signs of stress, my mom looked peaceful and at least ten years younger. I sat with her body for a bit, eventually moved to gather the flowers and cards and the blanket that had been knitted just for her. I paused at the door for one last look. And then the coroner came to take her away.

The rest of the evening passed in a vague blur. Mom had finalized most of the arrangements, so it was just a matter of setting everything in motion. Afterwards, I nibbled on pizza, (is it strange that I can still recall this, almost six years on?), and then dropped into bed.

 Morning came with a rush of remembrance. Grief, the shadow-ghost that had been lingering ever since my father passed a little over a year before, invaded my world yet again. I brewed some tea, a small, warm comfort, and settled in to check my e-mail. An update from Tuscan artist Daniel Martin Diaz, whose newsletters are infrequent and random, was tucked among the condolences. He was announcing a new work of art that, like many of his paintings, contained both text and image. This particular piece was of a stylized sugar skull, along with the Latin phrase, “Etiam in morte, perdurat amor.”

My tea cooled as I stared at the screen, incredulous as I translated the words. Tears came as I plugged them into the computer, just to make sure my translation was right. Sure enough, the words swimming before my eyes less than a dozen hours after my mother died, read…

Even in death, love prevails.

I thought about ordering a print of that work, or maybe a t-shirt, but time went on and I lost my window of opportunity. The sentiment, though, and it’s spectacular timing, stayed with me. This year, I decided to make my own sugar skull design, just in time to honor the day of the dead. It is dedicated to those that we hold near and dear in our hearts.

Friday, May 31, 2013

"As You Wish"

I am entirely delighted to say that this issue came together beautifully. It is chock full of fantastic poetry, fiction, and academic musings. The cover art is by Rima Staines, and the interior features captivating images by Kirsty Greenwood and Brooke Shaden Photography. More info can be found on the Cabinet des Fees website here.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

On This Night...

Full Moon Dancing:
I have finally caved to social media madness and created a Facebook page for my photography.
If anyone is interested in following along,
you can find it here.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

1 Billion Rising

Dancing to "Break the Chain" on a sunny afternoon!
So awesome to be a part of it...

Thursday, January 3, 2013

Hello 2013!

Out dancing and doing the photography thing.
Blog posts (and possibly commenting as well) will likely
be sporadic at best, but I'll still be keeping an eye
on my reading list.
Thanks for all the inspiration!

Monday, October 29, 2012

Wind. Leaves. Words. Dance.


* At the Goblin Market * 

To ride the midnight train, you’ll need one old coin and a finger bone. It will not take you where you expect to go.

You can purchase love, but you’ll have to pay dearly.

Both story and song are good to barter with.

Framed pictures, the color of cloth and pretty women will not
Look the same in the morning. Trust me on this.

There is a stall that sells questions. Choose wisely.

Yes, you can commune with the dead.

Never eat the apples.

 *  * * * * * * * * * * * *
Every year, Autumn seduces me effortlessly. The colors, the scents, the quality of the light! Long sleeves with thumb-holes and fleece and hot chocolate and boots! And paths like this:
We are on storm watch tonight. It is appropriately blustery, and I suspect the leaves are having a last hurrah.
Soon the trees will be bare.
This is also the season when dance events pick up. I recently performed a tribal fusion piece with a friend at Rakkasah East, a weekend long festival that celebrates all forms of bellydance.
And this past weekend, I had the opportunity to photograph some very lovely dancers at a local hafla:

It is such a pleasure to "capture" the bliss!