Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Tuesday August 31, 2010 Hurt Hawks by Robinson Jeffers / One Shot Wednesday



Hurt Hawks

The broken pillar of the wing jags from the clotted
shoulder,
The wing trails like a banner in defeat,
No more to use the sky forever but live with famine
And pain a few days: cat nor coyote
Will shorten the week of waiting for death, there is game
without talons

He stands under the oak-bush and waits
The lame feet of salvation; at night he remembers freedom
And flies in a dream, the dawns ruin it.
He is strong and pain is worse to the strong, incapacity is
worse.
The curs of the day come and torment him
At distance, no one but death the redeemer will humble
that head,
The intrepid readiness, the terrible eyes.
The wild God of the world is sometimes merciful to those
That ask mercy, not often to the arrogant.
You do not know him, you communal people, or you have
forgotten him;
Intemperate and savage, the hawk remembers him;
Beautiful and wild, the hawks, and men that are dying
remember him.

I'd sooner, except the penalties, kill a man than a hawk;
but the great redtail
Had nothing left but unable misery
From the bone too shattered for mending, the wing that
trailed under his talons when he moved.
We had fed him six weeks, I gave him freedom,
He wandered over the foreland hill and returned in the
evening, asking for death,
Not like a beggar, still eyed with the old
Implacable arrogance. I gave him the lead gift in the
twilight.
What fell was relaxed,
Owl-downy, soft feminine feathers; but what
Soared: The fierce rush: the night-herons by the flooded
river cried fear at its rising
Before it was quite unsheathed from reality.
-- Robinson Jeffers

I wanted to share this poem with you, it is one of my favorites and never fails to touch my soul.



One Shot Wednesday -- Distant Horizons

Mesas rise above
The desert floor,
To survey distant horizons.
Dust devils dance on the wind.

http://oneshotpoetry.blogspot.com/

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Sunday August 29, 2010 Tiny Creature



Tiny creature upon my back door,
Are you looking in to see,
Strange humans,
Doing strange human things?

I have never seen you before,
Or your kind.
And yet you must live here,
Share the space.

I wonder,
How many others are here,
Right here, right now,
And I never see them.

Yesterday I saw a full grown horny toad, near the road in front of my house. That was the first time in all the time I have lived here. I knew there must have been at least one, as I have seen two babies under an inch long, I think it was a she, and she was lovely. Wonderfully fat, and she seemed to be very proud of herself, sitting under the sage. When we were children in Texas, we used to catch them, and tie a little string around their necks. We would carry them on our shoulders all day. They would sit quietly and observe the world.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

Saturday August 28, 2010 End of Summer



"End of summer makes me wistful", lovely words from a poem by Ase Lilleskare Faugstad, which captures my feelings about the end of summer. Sunflowers bloom along road sides, the nights are cooler, the light seems softer and there is an anticipation in the air of the coming of winter, which is just around the corner. Roasted corn along road sides and the smell of roasted chilies. The footsteps seems lighter, there are preparations to be made. People are gathering wood into large well ordered wood piles. I am told that is how the native people know it will be a hard winter, if the local people make large woodpiles. You begin to smell wood smoke in the chilly mornings. There will be celebrations at the pueblo soon.



Taos Mountain, the mother mountain, the sacred mountain of the valley, is a reassuring landmark. She seems to be anticipating the coming winter, and will welcome her warm, white blanket of snow. She will be transformed into the snow princess. Clean, white, sparkling against the clear blue New Mexico sky.



When I turn East, I am looking toward Taos Pueblo. Probably the most beautiful part of Taos Valley. The name Taos means, where the red willow grow, and the willow are turning red along streams and rivers.



Facing South I am looking toward Santa Fe. The fall is the most beautiful time of the year. Apples are getting ripe, and sold along roadsides and there is a bounty at the farmers markets. The trees are turning lovely shades of yellows, golds, and reds. New Mexico is truly an enchanting place to be!

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Thursday August 27, 2010 Magpie 29

36

Yes I lived there,
House of love,
House of safety,

It was such a long time,
A life time,
Sunlight streamed through
The windows onto the brick floor,
In the kitchen.

Dappled light in the dinning room,
Tap, tap of brick floors,
Flowed onto hard wood floors,
Of the living room.

Stenciling in the entry,
Lead into the large family room
With the hand carved mantle.
It was the center of the house,
The fire burned brightly.

Through the leaded glass door,
One glimpsed the sleeping quarters.
I can still hear the ticking
Of the clock in the hall.
The time for me would end.

And I passed the keys to another,
Still I hold it in my memory,
Though I will never return.
I will always know it,
It is a part of me.

"...Memory believes before knowing remembers. Believes longer than recollects, longer than knowing even wonders." --William Faulkner

(I borrowed this quote from Kate Beck post. http://katebeckstudio.blogspot.com/)

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Wednesday August 25, 2010 Theme Thursday



Theme Thursday

Equal

So, if you draw a line down the middle,
What falls on either side, should be equal,
But who's to measure?

Sometimes it feels we really
Don't get our share,
Or we don't give it.

What in life is really equal?
The only thing I can think of is,
What you get out of life is in,

Direct proportion to what you put in.
And if this is measured I think you,
Would find these things to be equal.


The formula for equal isn't so hard after all.....




Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Tuesday August 24, 2010 One Shot Poetry



This One

Have you ever wondered
About the path you have chosen?
I take a step
And I wonder?

Too soon to make a decision.
I weigh the situation.
I am surrounded by unfinished projects.
How can I begin another?

I am determined to get some finish
In here, somewhere,
I take another step,
And I wonder?

The weight of all this unfinished work,
Begins to feel like the weight of the world,
The universe -- all of the cosmos.
I take another step and I wonder?

Maybe all the unfinished projects,
Should be thrown in the trash,
Like yesterday's kitchen garbage.
I take another step and I wonder?

Or...I could complete the tasks at hand,
Head down, push the peanut
Up the hill -- stay with it.
There is no limit,
How's it going?

To finish a task,
Feels good,
To polish the windows on the bus,
The load is lighter.
This is the one ...I've chosen.

I take another step, and I know!

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Mondays Child #8/ Sunday August 22, 2010




Monday's child,
Got up too late,
Missed the bus,
Had to walk,
To late to celebrate.


http://childrensverse.blogspot.com/

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Thursday August 19, 2010 MAG 28






http://magpietales.blogspot.com/


Out of sorts?
Take a soak,
Hard day?
Take a soak.

It is something we can
Do all by ourselves,
In fact, it is best,
Not to share the space.

It is the magic cure,
Nothing better,
Than a cool glass of water,
And a soak.

I wonder....for it seems
An impossibility,
In order to conserve,
Can we soak, in 1/2 cup?


http://magpietales.blogspot.com/

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Wednesday August 18, 2010 Wednesday's Poem



One Shot Poetry -- Wednesday's Poem
http://oneshotpoetry.blogspot.com/

Lovely maiden,
Her tongue is long
And slides from her open mouth.

She seldom speaks,
But stands at attention,
The sentinel of the portal.

She is one who is always there,
But...for the first time,
She reveals her long kept secret.

She reaches out with a very long thin arm,
Then tightly clinched fists, as tight as little clams,
In the morning, a show of lacy sparklers.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Monday August 16, 2010 #228 VIEW/ #129 BEGINNING



Prompt #228 - View

Sunday Scribblings
On Monday
Provide a different view.
Just enough to allow
The tea to cool.

Hi all! First of all I just want to apologize for the delay in posting this week. It's not because I wasn't trying! For some reason Blogger and my computer aren't getting along, so if I am delayed in the future, hang in there - I'm probably sitting at my computer willing it to log in!

The prompt this week is: view. What's the view from your window? What's your view on life? On the current world situation? What's the best view you have ever seen? Had? What's your dream view? Have you expressed your views?

http://sundayscribblings.blogspot.com/

_____________________________________________________________________________



Prompt #129 BEGINNING

Beginnings.......
Can sometimes
Be false starts,

Cross out,
Erase,
Change,
No, go back,
Edit,

Not all beginnings
Lead to the proper
............................endings.

http://onesingleimpression.blogspot.com/

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Sunday August 15, 2010 Sunset in Taos, New Mexico



There are those moments in life that are just so incredible! I wish sometime it would stay that way forever, but change it must. The skies in Taos are the most beautiful ever. They are breathtaking, they seem to fill your chest and it is hard to breath, it is all just too beautiful! Saturday night was just this kind of night.



Actually every sunset is beautiful and the amazing thing is every day the sky is different, and when I say different I mean dramatically different.



Tonight the color changed so quickly. I looked out and the clouds seemed different. I got the camera and suddenly the sky seemed to be on fire.











And then just as quickly the fire went out. I was alone, the beautiful color was gone. There was only that little fingernail of a moon keeping me company.



It was like a symphony of color exploding before my eyes, and I swear my ears could hear it, too. Now all was quiet on the mesa. The beautiful colors that had painted the sky, had faded to grays -- still beautiful, but silent, not a sound, not even the chirp of a cricket -- which is often heard in the late afternoon. It was as if the whole world knew that we had just witnessed an extraordinary event, and as in the symphony hall, after the completion of a performance, you could hear a pin drop. Night fell quickly on this summer night. All is magic!






SUNDAY, AUGUST 15, 2010 Prompt 129: Beginning



What is the beginning,
But the other side of life's coin,
I was born in the middle.
And the middle is where,
All the little juicy things happen.

http://onesingleimpression.blogspot.com/



Sunday 160 Summer Heat



The heat of summer
Makes me crazy

I long for winter's
Cold Breath

Today promises another
Scorcher

The air so hot
I think I'll die

All is hot
Melancholy stops my heart

http://petzoldspracticalprose.blogspot.com/2009/06/sunday-160.html

Friday, August 13, 2010

Friday 13, 2010 Response to Magpie Tales and Johnnie Winona Ross




Today is Friday, and this morning I opened to the Magpie site, to see the writing prompt. To tell the truth I was stumped, I started a couple of ideas and no luck. When I looked carefully at the picture, I began thinking about the surface of the pipes pictured and was struck by the contrast of the paintings I saw yesterday by a wonderful artist, Johnnie Winona Ross. And surface is so important to his work. While the pipes in Magpie's picture were rusty, and oxidized, rough to the touch, Johnnie's painting are smooth as a polished stone.



I found on Elins Eagles-Smith Gallery site his biography: Johnnie Winona Ross creates elegantly abstracted paintings that evoke both the austere landscape of Northern New Mexico's high plain and the burnished surfaces of ancient Pueblo pottery.

These are two things I love. I have seen Johnnie's work since he moved to Taos in 1999, where he first showed at the Parks Gallery. But one thing that was so wonderful about his show at the Museum in Santa Fe, was to see his work in the context of many of his other works. And of course to get to meet him was a very special privilege.

The Elins Eagles-Smith Gallery describes his process this way, beneath their satin, burnished surfaces are revealed subtle drips of colored pigment that appear in banded stripes. In a rhythmic flow that is reminiscent of falling rain, the dripping is sparse at the top and becomes more intense as it nears the bottom. These works are composed of more than one hundred layers of glazed pigments. Each of these is shaved with a straight razor until a chronology of the painting's history is revealed to the viewer. Finally, utilizing the traditional burnishing stone of native Pueblo potters, Ross buffs the surface of the painting until he achieves a soft warm gloss.

Johnnie Winona Ross resigned his post as chair of the art department at the Maine College of Art in Portland and moved to Taos New Mexico in 1999, to devote himself full time to painting. He exhibits his work in New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Dallas, and throughout Northern New Mexico.

Johnnie Winona Ross
August 13, 2010 --January 9, 2011
New Mexico Museum of Art 107 West Palace Avenue, on the Plaza in Santa Fe
NMArtMuseum.org

And for more information go to Kate Beck: Art Notes http://katebeckstudio.blogspot.com
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
On and of the Mesa: Johnnie Winona Ross, Carole Sue Ross

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Thursday August 10, 2010 The Pink House by the Bay



http://themethursday.blogspot.com/2010/08/thursday-august-12-2010-palm-link.html

I am reminded of the Pink House by the bay,
Cary and Kathleen, gentleman and anything but a gentlelady,
Summer breezes blow,
Onie and Jo, soul of the whole shebang,
Lash your trusty companion,
And Hondo without the sense to get out of the road.
Fig trees blossom in spring,
...Palm trees rustle in gentle breezes.


Places to wonder, places to hide.
Billiards upstairs, trunks and wardrobes.
Colorful flowers bloom across the green,
Manicured lawn,
Racing to the water's edge,
The long pier, just right for fishing.
A summer home for the family,
...Palm trees rustle in gentle breezes.


They used to walk the cow down to the bay,
Thirty miles or more,
So there would be fresh milk for the children,
Later a full-time home.
All of the old folks were gone,
And now we are gone, too.
...The palm trees rustle in gentle breezes.

We returned from the honey moon,
I was sitting in the car,
You returned a boy,
Left me with my luggage to enter the family home, alone.
...The palm trees rustle in gentle breezes.

Over the years, each day passed,
Each night,
Things slowly changed.
We wrapped each other in love,
Giving all that we had,
In the best way we knew how.
Now it is only a memory,
...The palm trees still rustle in gentle breezes,

And I wonder do they ever think of us?

August 10, 2010 By the Seashore



I play by the shore
Arrange my shells, driftwood and seaweed,
I build sand castles,
I shade my eyes and scan the beach,

It is empty as far as I can see,
You know the place I play,
I am there regularly,
Yes, I remain,

I wait for you,
We splash into the sea,
It is only my imagination,
It is quiet around me,

Except for the sound of the surf,
That I hear when I raise the shell to my ear,
And I hear it, no matter where I am,
Perhaps I only imagine the surf, too,

The gulls cry and dive for bits of nourishment,
And like the gull,
I fly aimlessly and watch for you,
There are no longer games to play,

Each minute of time ticks on endlessly,
This is "it", the real thing,
Just a brief space
Without, definition.

Monday, August 9, 2010





microfiction#43
Susan,at http://www.stonyriver.ie/
hosts a weekly writing prompt
using the below photo
write using only 140 character or less



The old postcard
Slid out from between the pages,
Telling the tale from long ago.
They sailed from New York.
Taking the World Tour in stages.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Saturday August 7, 2010 A Heart Tied with a Knot



The heart that's bound,
Tied in knots
Hold it together,
Try not to let it fall apart,
Use different knots,

The Love Knot, Strangle Knot, Witches Knot
All the different hitches,
From Half to Slip,
The unusual Hairy Devil,
To the plain bow knot, etc.,

Old knots unrecorded,
New Knots to discover,
Knots made up on the spot,
What's the use of this long list of knots,
Holding the heart that is falling apart,

Torn wide open...
Because you loved too much,
...or not enough,
Silver threads or a bit of old string,
There is nothing new in this activity.

Friday, August 6, 2010

August 6, 2010 Hearts upon my Doors



The morning is quiet and it seems that it will be another hot day, although it is cool now. The sky is blue without a cloud, one might say, "All is well." I was reminded this morning of the hearts I have placed upon my doors.



Though I see them all the time, sometimes I don't "see" them and I forget why I put them on my doors. In New Mexico there is an old tradition, to put a cross above the door, to remind the person who sees it, of the loved one who is gone. I guess I had something like that in mind, when I placed the hearts upon my doors.



It was not long after I moved into this house, this little house in the high mountain desert. My own heart was heavy, so I thought to relieve my heart, I used lots of color that I loved thoughout my house. We respond to color emotionally. We say I love that color or I hate that color.



And the next thing I did was to hang hearts on my doors. To remind myself to keep my heart open and to create a life filled with love. It seemed important to remember that we can create the life we want. Some of the hearts I bought for myself, and some were gifts given to me.



When I begin my new life, I have created some new traditions that mark special events in my life. I look for ways to celebrate our own life and I give thinks and I live each day in gratitude. If we want to change the world, we have to begin with ourselves.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Magpie Tales August 5, 2010



Take my hand,
Come into the woods with me,
So much green,
Makes me dizzy,

Come into the woods with me,
The landscape I've grown used to
Is austere --like love.

Come into the woods with me,
So much green,
Is intoxicating to the desert dweller,

Come into the woods with me,
A place to hide
A place to play

Come into the woods with me,
Just for a little while,
Just for today.

Thursday August 5, 2010 Celebrations in Taos, New Mexico



It is interesting, photographs help us to remember. And this photograph reminds me of the day we hiked in Abiquiu. Abiquiu home of Georgia OKeefe. It is an interesting little town, high on a hill. The road used to go right through it. It is a town very similar to a Pueblo, many of the rules of the town are same. And Angelos are not really welcome. There are tours in Miss OKeefe's home, but when it is over you are expected to get into your car and leave. Once a tour member left her house on foot and began to explore the little village, and was told, "Miss Okeefe respected us and didn't wander about our town, and we would appreciate it if you would do the same." She then hurried back to her car, and left the village. Leaving all quiet behind her.

You might wonder, how did this village come to be. The people are descendants from Hopi children, that were stolen and sold into slavery in the city of Santa Fe. When these children became adults, the people who had owned them, and abused them, were afraid of them. And no longer wanted them to live among them in Santa Fe, for fear of retaliation. So the little town of Abiquiu was founded. And we wonder why the people of Auiquiu do not want us to come to their town and be among them? The slavery of children went both ways of course. I have heard it was a practice that was started by the French. (Blame it on the French.) Taos has another celebration, which it celebrates the mountain men, who were of course trappers and traders and I have been told Taos was a trading center, where slaves were traded. But who can say how these things get started. It is true our behavior toward the native people and the wild life of the United States was nothing to be proud of.

I remember years ago. In July there is a celebration in Taos called Fiesta. And of course, being new in town, I went to the celebration. I was appalled to see, in the parade there were children dressed as Native Americans on horse back, and children dressed as Spaniards with long poles with points on the end, also on horseback. The "Spaniards" were riding after the "Native Americans" attempting to stick them. I asked several people in the crowd around me about this, and was told they were celebrating the coming of the Spaniards to New Mexico. History tells us, the Native Americans suffered harsh treatment at the hands of the Spaniards. And they wonder why there might be some hurt feelings among the three cultures. Talk about politically incorrect behavior. I no longer go to Fiesta. It is not easy to make room for different people and their different cultures. Here are the original people, and the people who came and took everything away from them. And today we lack the understanding to know this might cause trouble.

But New Mexico has a long and colorful history. The blending of the three cultures also creating an interesting culture here. How often we step on other people's culture, because we do not know better. I came from a place where the majority was white, and therefore, only the white reality was respected, where minorities where not even considered. I would not be surprised to learn this is the same in most places in our country.

A friend from Texas, told me recently, "You know in the future the white race will not be the majority", and I said, "Yes, that is why I came to Northern New Mexico." And I love it here. Of course when I came I found there was a lot of hate towards Texans, which I am. But Texans have for too long treated New Mexico as their personal playground, and have given little respect to the people who lived here.

I chose to come to New Mexico because it had a long history of respecting it's artists. And also a history of respecting it's older women artists. It was always so, women were equal on the frontier. And in many ways, New Mexico is still a frontier.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

http://themethursday.blogspot.com/2010/08/thursday-august-5-brown-link.html



http://themethursday.blogspot.com/

What is there to say
about brown?
The darkest shade of yellow,

It's usually considered a somber color,
But actually,
it's just a shade of yellow,

You often see it when you look down,
You think it is brown,
But just a shade of yellow.

It seems to be a grown-up color,
But if we stay young, we'll choose,
Just a shade of yellow.

I don't think brown tastes so good,
I would rather eat,
just a shade of yellow.

My favorite color used to be brown,
But now,
just a shade of yellow.

Wednesday August 4, 2010 Opening at Lumina on Saturday 4 to 8



If by chance you will be in Northern New Mexico this weekend. There will be an opening at the Lumina Gallery, Saturday, August 7 from 4 to 8. Please come!