May I find inner peace and strength to live each day as deliberately as nature.
My life just now is a whirl wind. It’s been life in the fast lane with no time to paint. Still I hold faith that I will find/make that time to paint when the moment is again right.
So, Dear Reader, I am still around and even though I must recycle an image or two in the Fairy Boats I am painting at least a little and always evolving. I live in Gratitude for all that has and is happening with-in me. I hold fast in knowing this moment is perfect.
Our souls are autonomous; expressed perhaps through our physical being and reflected in our relationships with others but they are independent of us or…well we really don’t know do we? So when one dies what happens to their soul? Where does it go and what does it do? Is it dependent on time at all? Or is only its expression dependent on time?
The idea of soul is a beautiful thing and one which can give great solace or great pain. I happen to believe that we each do have souls. I believe that because how else can I explain the extrasensory perception I have experienced and that has been confirmed from time to time to be absolutely real in time. There has to be a ‘me’ external of my physical being for those things to have occurred.
When a loved one dies each of us may say, “May her Soul rest in peace”, and each will have their own reality in mind. The soul of the departed will be as it will. Let us wish it well and filled with happiness, and contentment wherever it may be.
And so I wish contentment for my mother, Jeanne Robert Ott Saunders who physically left us a little after 1:30 this beautiful summer afternoon, August 11, 2017. She opened her eyes briefly for my husband, Jamie, and died peacefully shortly thereafter. She was at home where she wanted to be under my sister, Erika’s care. She got to see and be with all her children during her last few days. She would have celebrated her 99th Birthday in a week on August 25th.
May her soul rest in Peace-the peace of our love for her-that connection we have had and continue to have with her somewhere in time. And may it bring us peace, contentment, and happiness to know she is there. I’d like to think she has finally joined our father, Norman, and is also with her father, “Daddy Roar”. Her real presence is missed by all of us. It has been a long good-bye following a vibrant life.
Jeanne at Leland house 2016. “Consider the lilies how they grow… And yet i say… Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed as one of these.” She loved the simple beauty of the natural world, the beauty of music, art, poetry, and most of all dance.
So today I bought a Day-Minder for 2017: I guess that means I intend to keep on trying.
Everyone makes New Years resolutions even when they claim they won’t and I am no exception; I will title mine “YES” for moving forward one day at a time into the New Year. “Y” is for Yoga practice, “E” is for exercise of all kinds, social and solitary, “S” is for sketching. And here is today’s sketch-
Not Jean-Baptiste-Simeon Chardin but the best i can do.
I make no promises except to try, and to be mindful, and kind.
Ishvarapranidhana: one of the five observances of yoga needful to find balance and harmony within oneself.
(Spirituality-take one of the Rose -piano version by Jamie which i am unable to upload to my blog but can email to you if you would like it and Surrender-take one by me in watercolor below-drag and drop) And yes, I paint to music.
Little Angel could have bloomed fragrant and bountiful in spring
Only Fate delayed the arrival of her Prince and now
Frost is in the air.
Buffeted by wind, broken-stemmed, tired, and old
She sends out a few more blossoms reaching toward heaven.
Even her leaves flame in a fond farewell.
And like bright confetti tossed in abandon after the party is over
Her petals drop gay against the grey of winter’s long sigh.
The things I like best about winter are my cozy black Damart tights and top. They’re warm and sleek. And, I like the silence of the snow and the way it has mounded up in the apple leaves like scoops of sugar in little cups. I could love it if my eyes were burning green and gold, but they’re not. They’ve changed to grey.
For the rest; the grey cold fits my mood internally and externally. This weather is such a contrast to last year on this same day in late October. Then the world held promise sparkling like the visions of a child but now it exists just to be dealt with.
Winter: dull and chilling, or cold and invigorating; we wait to see. Hope holds fast as frosty breath breaths white clouds over a garden outlined in white. And soul and spirit wait patiently yet fearfully like tulip bulbs beneath the soil planted in spite of the danger of being consumed and brought to extinction over the long bleak months of winter. Will they be there to bloom in May?