friday

HELLO TREE.

Do you remember me? I sat in your arms not long ago. You swayed in the autumn wind but I held on. I wrapped my fingers around your limbs like I'd seen a raven do. When you spoke it was a whisper, I spoke back. I whispered too.
One day more recently the earth rattled your bones. Mine too. The autumn winds carried me down and your tree feet cushioned my fall.
For that I thank you.
Then from the ground I flew like I'd seen the raven do. For that I apologise.
Whisper to me, willow weeping. Whisper humble oak and dig your roots deep for safe keeping.
Forget not that I remember you.
Remember.

HELLO VIEW.

thursday

HELLO MOUNTAIN.

I saw a picture of you today. It made my heart swell. I long to see you standing by the deep blue, her whispers washing over your big mountain toes.
My mind tricks and torments with thoughts of you. Tickles heart tides. Echoes your call, 'Come to me'.
One day soon I promise I will. I will travel far and admire you from the bridge before I take all the steps towards you. Maybe if I am strong enough I will climb you like I once said I would.
I will come to you. One day soon. I ask that you make a place for me to close my eyes a while. And I ask that you do not crumble before I get there.

HELLO VIEW.

wednesday

HELLO MOON.

Last night your glow lit my room and kept my eyes open for longer than they should have been. When I truly needed to close them I couldn't. It was early morning and I cried for you. I was tired.
I slipped into dreams eventually but I felt so far from you. I felt small.
This morning when I woke you were gone. I cry for you. I am tired.
Sometimes if I look closely I can see your light in the sun. Sometimes your reflection stains the pavement. I will search every surface for signs of you, moon. I will lie awake with you tonight and I will miss you again in the morning.
People ask, why is your light not as bright as the sun? Why is the sky black behind you?
I think about the way you shine, delicate and devoted. Let not the sleeping world cause you to sacrifice your blissful show, but know that for me and my soul you are enough. And for the little river that holds your glow.

HELLO VIEW.

tuesday

HELLO CLOUD.

Today I heard that you are angry and I almost understand why but it makes me sad all the same. I can see you covering the sky and I can feel your cold breath on my finger tips.
Let today be the day you let go of all your rain. Squeeze yourself dry over a place where there are no people, for your tears do not belong in their eyes.
Watch your woeful waters as they fall. Watch them become an oh so small part of the big, deep blue and breathe baby, breathe. When you are empty and no longer angry search your sky for light. The earth delights in brightness.
If you must rain again, let that water be gentle. Let it not hurt when it falls.
I think people fear the rain when you are angry and so they stay indoors, even when you are not. They miss out on seeing the beauty of a storm that is peaceful.
Be kind, cloud. Be humble.

HELLO VIEW.

monday

HELLO SUNSHINE.

Thank you for teaching me how to breathe and how to stop thinking. Thank you for teaching me to meditate and how to find peace in the darkness.
On Sunday night I was so calm after counting my breaths and not thinking that I very nearly fell asleep on the floor with a candle still burning.
Thank you for reminding me to smile. Sometimes it is easy to forget that I need not be afraid. For I know deep down that you are always in the sky somewhere in my world. Looking down and loving me with your light.
I think that people fear the sun and so they block you out; hide in shadows. Not I. You are too good, too glorious.

HELLO VIEW.

It is barely Saturday and I am smiling to myself in the moonshine. Though my eyes have been tired, the days just passed have been wonderful. Worlds are spinning in time and I am happy.

I am falling in love with people and places and things that I didn't expect I would. I am learning a lot about my world and what makes it turn: art, the making of art, the making of music, music, and people that are different.

My world is really a magical place and I am lucky. I am lucky to have folk that fill my heart and soul with joy, always. I am lucky to have the mind that I do and for happy thoughts to fill my days.

looking out for love

I love a lot of things. This week I especially love Joni Mitchell, printmaking, and the naming of colours.

I am only now coming to realise just how wonderful dear Joni is. Growing up I knew Big Yellow Taxi inside out but not much else. I feel like I've been missing out all this time, all of my almost twenty-one years of living. My daughters will listen to Joni Mitchell from the very start.

I voluntarily spent five hours of my Friday at university printing and printing. Black and blue. Over and over again. If I could spent all my moments in that studio I would, I love it so. One of my favourite things about printmaking is that accidents can be ace. I'm gladder than glad that I took a great gal's word and chose to be a printmaker.

My love for colour names is perhaps greater that for the colour itself. Sometimes a thing is so much more than just brown or just blue. Even when a thing is black it is not just black. Etsy is a great place for colour name hunting and so are paint cards. So far I think my most favourite ever is 'soft cocoa'. Though 'passport blue' is pretty dandy and has definitely earned a prime place on my list.

From now on I suggest y'all:
A: listen to more Joni Mitchell.
B: do more things that you love.
C: use more words when you talk about colours.

the depths of the blue

I woke up in a dream the other day like I often do, though on this day it was deeper and almost dark. My mind was somewhere I'm not sure it has been before.

In the morning made my sister breakfast and cut her eggs and toast in the shape of love hearts.

In the evening I ran away to the sea, bare feet on earth carrying me fast. I lit candles in small caves, watched ocean winds eat the flames. I searched for something I didn't find until I was in a bath in my dear brother's home. Peace. It was in the words a person spoke and it filled my soul. I drifted into a dream different from the one I awoke in. The water turned cold but still I stayed and still I slumbered.

This magical piece of music played over and over and over again on this day. As I listened I thought.



 

People do things. People misjudge the depth of the deep blue. They jump from the highest heights and sink before they get a chance to swim. They get swallowed by the sea and then from the bottom of the blue they beckon for the moon to follow them down so that they might be able to see a way out. But mostly it doesn't. Sometimes a part of them wants to stay because this place is strangely comforting. The darkness of the deepest blue builds walls about them and sometimes they do stay. These are the people that make the waves. Some people start to kick their legs but never make it to the top. These are the people that make the sounds of the sea. The roar that they tell you is the water really isn't. It is those below that make the noise. The people that wake in the white wash and are carried on their feet again are fearful. They will whisper through the wind and wish for you to curse, not caress the blue. I say do. Do. The depths of the blue will refine you.