Magic Moments-come with connection

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I would never have dreamt of going to a reunion let alone a High School one, however, when this 50th plus 1 year reunion came up on the same day and in the same town for which I had already made plans to visit my Mother I decided to chance going to it.

I traveled alone and after a good visit with my Mother attended the gathering.

I went, of course, with my owm in spirit at least, and had a wonderful time for I listened more than talked, stuck to water and ice for refreshment, and focused primarily on getting to know the women.

My classmates and I (at least those who came) are a pretty neat group of  interesting people. I hope many of them will take the time, as I will, to reach out and affirm the connections we made or remade this afternoon. As we shared stories I did discover that staying married for almost 50 years made one decidedly unusual although I assured others that one could view that achievement as problematical even if highly honorable.

On the long drive home I had the pleasure of listening to a lovely harp concerto by Ditterdorf and the tone poem The Moldau  (‘Vltava” in Czech) from Smetanas series Ma Vlast thanks to the superb sound system my loving husband got with the car he chose for me. And I gave thanks to mp for helping me learn the value of spending quality time in connection with other people especially with my mother. And, most importantly, I drove very attentively.

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Angel in the dust

PS i am working on w/c sketches of guess what-ROADS! the ones in the country are lovely.

Magic Moments of Gratitude

Purple Asters and golden rod reaching down to kiss their reflection in the still dark water-

Bright grey-green lichen and red leaves reflected in the quietly running stream-

Golden sun dappling the lane through the tree tops high above-

A young hawk swooping down and up again before the slowly coasting car and miracle-               I stopped- and looking though my new sun roof took a magic moment to observe-


All these things and more were offered on my walk this morning but only received because of the love shown me by J, J,  R, and A. -Thank you dear friends.


Further, my gratitude flows out to those who organized and led us in a candlelight vigil for Sibyl and Lee Pellum Sunday night. Though I can not know all who attended I feel connected and grateful for this community of friends and humbled by their numbers as I continue to remember Lee’s goodness and pray for Sibyls healing. ( for readers of this blog outside our local community: these were two good friends who were out on their daily morning walk when a young man swept them to oblivion as he left the road with his car-a tragic accident which is much too common.) Drive carefully, please.


Your angel in the dust

Magic Moments-at home


Inspiration for working from sketch to larger painting-

I have much to be grateful for; for still being able to walk, and sing, and paint, and most of all for caring family, and friends. I am so very grateful that a special friend introduced me to the practice of yoga; it continues to help in healing both body and spirit.

Today having missed rehearsal with the choir I went to yoga instead of singing in church.The movement and breathing of yoga was like listening again to the breathing of the ocean. It eased physical and mental pain and opened my heart to being at peace here within my own home far from the restorative sound of the ocean. May it do the same for you.

Here is the poem our yoga leader, Mary, closed with:


Prayer for Peace


May I be at peace.

May I have an open heart.

May I know the beauty

      of my true nature.

May I be healed.

May my life be a gift

     of peace in the world.


May the world be at peace.

May we all have an open heart.

May we all know the beauty

    of our true nature.

May we all be healed.

May we all serve as a gift

    of peace to each other.


Within each heart

     there is a place of peace.

May we each live from that place,

And thus we are healed into

     the heart of peace.


Angel in the dust










Magic Moments-On Inspiration

Inspiration for painting comes from many sources-

  • First Nature-

The first and most obvious for me is our natural world. I am captivated by the subtle play of ambient light on objects both inside and out of doors. I love landscapes and gardens, flowers and birds. I have also become fascinated by the human figure and the stories I see in faces. (Now can I ever live long enough build the skill to do portraits?… Has anyone yet discovered the fountain of youth?!!!)

  • Then there is music-

Outside or when working on location the environment itself provides the background noise or music. I love painting near moving water or among trees for that reason. In the studio I often play Reba’s #1s, her 30 best hits. I like the steady beat. Since I now know the lyrics pretty much by heart I don’t have to be distracted by trying to listen too acutely. In a similar fashion collections of Enya’s best provide the right kind of constant beat for yoga practice, something which has become essential for me. Music is my energy source; it can be guitar, hammered dulcimer, country and western, early renaissance, baroque, or whatever WMNR comes up with. However, I do find that classical-romantic music, that from Beethoven on, can be distracting as it has too much to say of its own.

  • And the work of other artists provides so much inspiration-

In my quest to use watercolor more sympathetically a contemporary water-colorist has become one of my inspirational mentors. See his work on:

I have favorite painters, John Singer Sargent, Turner, and Corot  to name only a few of many, and Photographers, and poets including Rubert Brooke, Rumi, Rudyard Kipling, Robert Frost, Celia Thaxter, and many more. Movies are also a source of thought and sometimes inspiration. “North by Northwest” and “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel” my most recent movie picks, are still reverberating in my mind. I feel that I know these people and some of them very well or too well indeed. They may end up in a painting. I would love to paint to/for poems and someday even to classical music.

  • And then there are loved ones and friends-

There is so much to do and so much to look forward to when inspiration comes. I have my “New Day” to Thank for helping me move toward these goals. One must hang onto that golden thread of hope, practice change, and stand up for what matters. The world is a beautiful if challenging place. As the poet, May Sarton, is quoted to have said: “Yes. (I am writing again) Because I have a Muse again…Poetry (read Painting) is a gift; you can’t make it on will…. It doesn’t matter if I go to bed with her or not.”  Sarton then continued, as I also  would; “with me it’s the Muse who causes poetry (and painting) by focusing the world. Focusing the world-Yes! That is what occurs for me. So thank you, my dear Muse. Please stay with me. You help me see and feel the world with greater intensity and in more depth than ever before. It is a gift from heaven.

Angel in the dust

Magic Moments-Poetry-Pictures painted with words-


How did it get to be September? Another summer is nearly gone and so many dreams have not been realized. As a dear friend said, “I am working on acceptance”. I know we all must do that: we need to trust that we are exactly where we are meant to be, not forgetting the infinite possibilities that exist in ourselves and in others but using the gifts we have now and taking joy in what we can do today.

The thing is to live without expectation; and, to keep the threads of Hope and Faith strong.

I love to write out my thoughts; sometimes the writing takes the form of poetry and sometimes a list, but more often a virtual letter, one which will never be sent. I have a whole file of these now and I don’t know why i persist in doing it. Perhaps it is because I am so often filled with sadness when I encounter something beautiful that I see or hear and am unable to share. I suppose that is my reason for writing and also my reason for trying to paint.

I am fascinated by the many reasons other artists have for writing or painting. Almost all of them are driven to their creative work and each handles the need in different ways; some by going public with shows and sales and some by stashing the work away in portfolios, making the art just for the joy of doing it. I am beginning to think the later approach maybe the best path for me to follow, at least for the time being, and so i may limit or eliminate my contributions to shows and competitions. To date however the need to share persists. So here are two poems I wrote last week (in lieu of being able to paint). The first I rewrote on August 31st from a rather gloomy version written on the 29th.

The second is meant to be a play on words. This poetry writing business is tricky. I’d love comments from other would-be poets.



The Lifeline


Hope, that thin frayed strand, woven

From dreams and the creative imagination,

Twisted by time, mended by memories of

Love and friendship-true reaching out to you

Across a gulf so often rimed by tears

Tears with absolute separation.


Unable to hold against the ebb tide,

Unable to withstand a loss too great to understand,

Grief swells up from deep within

Strains every last resolve

Shatters reason and snaps-


The line

Slack now, stretches out with the receding tide

Tracing that lost friend

A love letter

In the sea wrack left behind.


 Morning breaks across the rocks,

A New Day dawning at its best.

With a glitter of sparkling diamond

The sea murmurs, whispers, mocks,

Stretches to the empty horizon

Inviting solitude for a Soul at rest


 But now a gentle breeze freshens,

Lights a smile of gratitude

On a face turned out to sea.

For you are sitting safely on the shore

Dreaming dreams of yet to be

-The lifeline held once more-


      Sea Point

                                                                                        September 2016

                                                                                         Rewritten August 31, 2016



A Life Line

(Of all but 20 years)


50 years is a lifetime

Of Trust

Of good times-not too many bad

Of happy times-not too many sad

Of being busy-or lazy-stay-a-bed

Of making things-or cleaning up

Of kindness

Of being one with you-

In love with you,

My Husband of 50 years



December 25, 1966-2016