Magic Moments-A chapter in my Life

Photos from February 2016-

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Late last night on our way home following the Memorial service for my father and mother which i had organized, some hidden obstruction material embedded in the exit ramp slashed both of my right tires. We were returning from what had transpired to be a moving and fulfilling day. I was set to resume my painting and try again to center myself having fulfilled my obligations to my siblings and family.

My car is my only independence. Once again I feel so punished. How does one get past this?

Turn around, away from the computer screen, count your blessings (we are all OK) and pick up the paint brush. I’ll try to post some studies of mergansers ASAP.

Holly

(Angel in the dust)

 

Magic Moments-Home

is where the Heart is.IMG_5995 (1024x768).jpg

 

Island Song

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High Tide comes in

Washes over hard rock faces

Lifts tangled seaweed hair

Caressing our thoughts

Breathing life into every

                   crevice of our spirits-

With its ebb-

                     We wait.

 

The surf still poundingIMG_5997 (768x1024)

In our

Hearts

 

 

       for R

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Haiku for Monhegan island 2017

Far below the cliffs

The sea foams teal blue and white

Seals play in the wavesIMG_6006 (1024x768).jpg

 

White gulls ride the wind

Over churning cobalt teal

Vertigo blinds meIMG_5990 (1024x768).jpg

 

Golden rod, Asters

Bend like bright waves on the rock

A sea gull cries outIMG_5987 (768x1024).jpg

  

 Cool wind lifts paper

Artist pauses, looks again

Grey fog breaks like foam

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 Who am i to paint

Such wonders: an ocean vast?

 -Insignificant

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And lost.

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Winter Ilex on Monhegan

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Holly (Angel in the dust)

 

Magic Moments- somewhere in time

Somewhere in time i knew you well.

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Pencil drawing of a white rose done while waiting for my Mother on Star Island 2013

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.

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Jeanne on Star Island 2002 pointing out Norman’s favorite flower, the tiny blue-eyed lily.

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.

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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.

Holly (angel in the dust)

MAGIC MOMDENTS-THE POWER OF WORDS

a poem re- blogged from NoTalentforCertainty.wordpress.com

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sketch of Esperanza done for an advent calendar

A life unfinished, glowering in the distance,
A diffidence, a shyness from the day;
The slow conceit that happiness is wanting,
A careful plan turned into throwaway.

The birds know things, I think, that I’m still learning,
Like how we must move on, sometimes, to live —
I see them round the palace in the morning.
We’re made to take; we have to learn to give.

There’s moisture on the windows of my vision,
As though the night had cried itself to sleep;
I hear the distant calls of faint derision,
Resentment for the company I keep.

It’s up the hill: my fate, my destination,
To Movingstock, to live among the crows,
And breathe a song of maybe-new tomorrows,
And feel each passing season as
It goes

by Owen servant