A very enjoyable piece read this morning by Garrison Keillor:
| My Ancestral Home by Louis Jenkins We came to a beautiful little farm. From photos |
Thank you Garrison! And a HUGE thank you to Louis Jenkins!
Pablo Picasso speaks
“Every child is an artist. The trick is how to remain an artist when he grows up.” -Pablo Picasso
I used to draw with my brothers for hours on Saturday mornings watching Looney Tune cartoons. I still have some of my pencil drawings. It was one of my favorite things to do. You might ask what happened?
What happened to the Artist
being a girl in a house full of men
growing up in a family where women were only thought of as servants, not friends
so, this young girl left home at an early age and began her own family
never completely abandoning the Artist/Writer within
the writer still writes and the artist still creates
© Anita Adams
As Pablo Picasso says- The trick is to remain an artist when he (she) grows up.
This is one of my favorite pieces of Art by Picasso ‘Nude’
A shared poem by W. S. Merwin
The Helmsmen
The navigator of day
plots his way by a few
daytime stars
which he never sees
except as black calculations
on white paper
worked out to the present
and even beyond
on a single plane
while on the same breathing voyage
the other navigator steers only
by what he sees
and he names for the visions of day
what he makes out in the dark void
over his head
he names for what he has never seen
what he will never see
and he never sees
the other
the earth itself is always between them
yet he leaves messages
concerning celestial bodies
as though he were telling of his own life
and in turn he finds
messages concerning
unseen motions of celestial bodies
movements of days of a life
and both navigators call out
passing the same places as the sunrise
and the sunset
waking and sleeping they call
but can’t be sure whether they hear
increasingly they imagine echoes
year after year they
try to meet
thinking of each other constantly
and of the rumors of resemblances between them
plots his way by a few
daytime stars
which he never sees
except as black calculations
on white paper
worked out to the present
and even beyond
on a single plane
while on the same breathing voyage
the other navigator steers only
by what he sees
and he names for the visions of day
what he makes out in the dark void
over his head
he names for what he has never seen
what he will never see
and he never sees
the other
the earth itself is always between them
yet he leaves messages
concerning celestial bodies
as though he were telling of his own life
and in turn he finds
messages concerning
unseen motions of celestial bodies
movements of days of a life
and both navigators call out
passing the same places as the sunrise
and the sunset
waking and sleeping they call
but can’t be sure whether they hear
increasingly they imagine echoes
year after year they
try to meet
thinking of each other constantly
and of the rumors of resemblances between them
W.S. Merwin, Selected Poems, Atheneum, 1988.
Mid-July & Fireflies
When the days are hot and steamy
the air thick with the fragrance of honeysuckle and roses
like a warm peanut butter and jelly sandwich on white bread
the fireflies appear in the darkness of a mid-July night
lighting their way through the trees
until the need for their light is no more. ©Anita Adams
July 4th
Tradition
Holiday
Family Reunions
Fireworks
Sparklers
Games and Barbecues
Hot, steamy, humid afternoons
Time for a swim in a creek, river or backyard bin
When Americans immigrated from all corners of the world collide and celebrate the freedoms we have with one big grin.
Today we don’t celebrate quite the same, the America I know is divided, Republican and Democrat, Liberal and Unaffiliated, White or Black, Woman or Man, Child or Adult and so many other prejudices I care not to name their parts.
What holds me in Gratitude, is Faith. A Faith that God exists and will prevail over the injustices of this country and world. Peace will once again settle in all of our bones and hearts. Until then, I will continue to share the peace and love planted in my heart so long ago with all of those I meet through writing and art.
Peace. Shalom. Heiwa, Pace, Paix, Sholem, Beke, Pax, Paz, Frieden
Sunday morning in June
No agenda
Mass last night
the day is a blank canvas
long awaited
the birds are singing
the frog is silent
a misty morning in June
the trail is calling
like a prayer
Come walk in the wood
I reply I’ll be there soon.
©Anita Adams 6/18/2017
Life is so Full
Life is so full…
..full of details
..of the doing.
Scheduling time for self appears to be elusive, but necessary.
Where does the time go?
Shopping, cleaning, driving, creating, writing, managing finances, working, remembering others, giving back, in contemplation and prayer, planning, scheduling, creating art while pushing a grocery cart.
Wherever time takes me – that’s where I am. I am here., therefore, God is here too.
Breathe. Believe. Play. Laugh. Pause – because this is the way. The way to the heart. The way to balance it all.
One day life will not be so full.
That day is not today.
© Anita Adams
Called to Write Workshop for women 18 & up – July 2017 – Asheville
Called to Write Workshop
for Women ages 18 & up – Asheville, NC to begin in July 6th
Thursday evenings from 7pm – 9 pm
in the Amherst Writers & Artists method aka AWA
Discover your original and creative voice through a variety of prompts using the AWA method.
To REGISTER: Email name, telephone to AWA.AAdams@gmail.com by July 1st
‘A Writers is someone who writes.” – Pat Schneider, Writing Alone & With Others
A. Adams, Certified AWA Affiliate in the AWA method will Facilitate and write with you. Providing a safe space for others to share their voice and craft their art.
Flaming June
I love this image by Frederic Leighton entitled “Flaming June”.
The painting evokes:
- summer
- beauty
- afternoon naps
- flowing dresses
- and bare feet.
The only thing missing for me is the smell of honeysuckle which is so rich in the month of June.
Sweetness abounds! All one has to do is open your eyes and look around.
Happy June!
~ Anita Adams
Last Day on Earth – A Dream
I’ve been working on crafting a Dream I had last year sometime, and although it is not finished the essence of it is this:
My Last Day on Earth – A Dream
In the dream, it is my last day on earth. Friends and family are somehow gathered to a potluck to wish me farewell. It’s evening, and I’m waiting with the hostess at a house, circa 1950’s on top of a Town Mountain. As I wait in the house, I am pacing in a dimly lit dining room, walking and gazing out a bank of three windows. Everything in the house is either white, gray or brown. Pine wooden floors, white shiplap walls, brown antique wooden door. There’s a sense in me and others of peace and a knowingness that all is well. Being a woman of faith, I understand death is inevitable.
As friends and family gather bringing casseroles, beverages, vegetable plates, salads and desserts, they enter through the brown wooden door and place their dishes on a long white wooden dining table. We look at each other and smile in silent reverence, as I continue to walk gently in front of the windows, and it dawns on me that this will also be the last sunset I will see here on earth.
Two of my daughter’s childhood friends come in with a magenta card and hand it to me. As I read the card, filled with reflections of what I’ve meant to them in their life, I notice it also contains $98. The $98 puzzles me and still is a questionable piece of this dream. Just as I finish reading the card, hugging and loving on them, I notice the light in the room begins to change to a glow.
An urgency rises in me to get to the bank of three windows to view my last sunset. This is how it appeared to me in the dream (I took this photo in 2011):
Feeling grateful to see these rainbow hues of my last sunset on earth, another question arises in me before the sun sets. It is this: “How do I wish to live or leave this day?”
©Anita Adams 2017
