tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80675178646221159262024-02-19T00:17:13.114-08:00marty's musingsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger159125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-87430992991245955792014-09-15T19:00:00.001-07:002014-09-15T19:00:22.384-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"> A morning of rainbows…..</span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> rising from the Great Lake up into a cloudy sky,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> hovering over the horizon as a brilliant bridge</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> uniting sea and sky….</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> making hearts sing and traffic stop on the bridge into town and becoming the chief topic of countless conversation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> What a divine antidote to news of war and environmental devastation and human folly of all kinds! In spite of it all, we live surrounded by gratuitous Beauty and amazing Grace---two of my favorite names for Godde!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Let us treasure the marvelous creation in which we live with all our hearts, and do all we can to preserve it for those who come after us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> If we allow our habitats to be ruined, nothing else we think important will matter much.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Most of all, maybe, money!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-1830047574436341502014-07-28T17:33:00.001-07:002014-07-28T17:33:28.156-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimMN9JuwSPkMRitbtvmVIykZQMAsY0EPBcWfQCw-QZYYPDwGPLQTv18ejODyG4ZFLUZNrdMU6YpRkKCKQg5uJVvn5MMwpK_D4jk4e-oNfGJZwSOTxSj7Z6rg5qsAZ6ZDeMGEM49IPmZoRT/s1600/IMG_1979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimMN9JuwSPkMRitbtvmVIykZQMAsY0EPBcWfQCw-QZYYPDwGPLQTv18ejODyG4ZFLUZNrdMU6YpRkKCKQg5uJVvn5MMwpK_D4jk4e-oNfGJZwSOTxSj7Z6rg5qsAZ6ZDeMGEM49IPmZoRT/s1600/IMG_1979.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">In a few moments</span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;">A calm sunny day suddenly changes</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">As the wind shifts from south to north</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And blows ever stronger.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is beauty in the change, and danger</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> to anyone braving the waves and currents.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I have known days of sudden change like this </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">in my life. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">And you? </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Can we look at them </span><span style="font-size: large;">as a scene, like this one, which we can observe </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">with a certain amount of appreciation, </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">even objectivity? </span><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-34090664791153541412014-07-12T17:29:00.003-07:002014-07-12T17:29:29.651-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEineuO0IN4c55ezO6pAZ81Ya9r7uMIGaIzzA6prVOxa6lESQ2lOFsVLZB0irJkViinMpdQJG3lWfaWYVQeijN4b7bUnQ9yi38wDps4_7SPhnlFlvX3DvxfiUabVtILvWYXtLzVdbO89jnO0/s1600/IMG_1932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEineuO0IN4c55ezO6pAZ81Ya9r7uMIGaIzzA6prVOxa6lESQ2lOFsVLZB0irJkViinMpdQJG3lWfaWYVQeijN4b7bUnQ9yi38wDps4_7SPhnlFlvX3DvxfiUabVtILvWYXtLzVdbO89jnO0/s1600/IMG_1932.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Last night at sunset, grandson Sammy and I stationed ourselves on the lower deck with pastels and paper, ready to try and paint the sunset "plein air." Of course, the light and clouds and sun changed quickly and constantly, so all we could get was a momentary impression, hastily pictured on our paper. </span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Doing it was a delight.</span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Reflecting on the experience helps me realize how fleeting life is, and how various and hard to capture are our impressions of what we experience.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Do even two people see the same thing at the same time in the same way? I think not. Add to that the constant flow of change and it seems to me arrogant and unwise to claim that one's own experience or view is anything more than one's own temporary idea or impression. Who are we to think others should see it as we do, react as we do, understand as we do? Better, perhaps, to offer one another our various views (in more ways than one) and by so doing enrich our experience in manifold ways.</span><br /></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-36838196451188000022014-06-16T16:29:00.000-07:002014-06-16T16:29:07.836-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMZRMf9ZSZA4rMQFdseSdfomrGCgvO5ikfEDePa1hYHHLc9VEZE8V-0VgNtMlwb5eFp05UYDKzJRjvD5UeeGtcuDx3XPgx2Rx4qyi88mbattQaDF2ZfmYxldz2Ijo6ZmJZaPnskwWSEg1v/s1600/IMG_1859.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMZRMf9ZSZA4rMQFdseSdfomrGCgvO5ikfEDePa1hYHHLc9VEZE8V-0VgNtMlwb5eFp05UYDKzJRjvD5UeeGtcuDx3XPgx2Rx4qyi88mbattQaDF2ZfmYxldz2Ijo6ZmJZaPnskwWSEg1v/s1600/IMG_1859.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
Back here in Michigan, I am back at painting pastels, this time of the Big Lake rather than the Red Rocks of Sedona.<div>
A rainbow was just starting to form after a thunderstorm at dawn was clearing away, and I got a picture of it, which inspired this painting.</div>
<div>
It reminds me that rainbows appear when rain/tears combine with sunshine.</div>
<div>
I remember times when I have been in tears, but they were not tears of sorrow, but of overwhelming feeling---sometimes gratitude, sometimes awe, sometimes just something inexpressible and mysterious.</div>
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I am so glad for rainbows in my life, and I imagine you are too.<br /><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-2412451807003059702014-05-30T19:34:00.000-07:002014-05-30T19:34:05.848-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxlaRF7GoeVb_I_TIqpDCPLfdRyAT_dL_MCwZJh2yhFQH0GRb1lb9exVWagsGQzy1ZfHWVq0Qhn-sDVbFnDaVK27AzpGO2IDXHS3HWhvqq1JHXNXG6Zb2PZQmkkkLvoLA3Nf2QcrTNt29E/s1600/IMG_1807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxlaRF7GoeVb_I_TIqpDCPLfdRyAT_dL_MCwZJh2yhFQH0GRb1lb9exVWagsGQzy1ZfHWVq0Qhn-sDVbFnDaVK27AzpGO2IDXHS3HWhvqq1JHXNXG6Zb2PZQmkkkLvoLA3Nf2QcrTNt29E/s1600/IMG_1807.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">A hummingbird at my feeder again and again</span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;">teaches me today</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">the joy and necessity of sipping the sweet nectar </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">of the Presence of God</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">very very often. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">When is the last time you took a sip?</span><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-30288638896671688262014-05-20T17:47:00.002-07:002014-05-20T17:47:27.922-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1a2D-my5dcnnwNMBio3ydlNly_5cz9LO9mgqjTxrYPDtY1ckImnNhUyQ1Fe9xHoaJLe4pR5tPtAOaS5VwE0pAzh19b3rMCg-mgtVhyphenhyphenTgie_rcJj306s-QE5DqCGvibERC5gtPWfYy9YTW/s1600/IMG_1809.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1a2D-my5dcnnwNMBio3ydlNly_5cz9LO9mgqjTxrYPDtY1ckImnNhUyQ1Fe9xHoaJLe4pR5tPtAOaS5VwE0pAzh19b3rMCg-mgtVhyphenhyphenTgie_rcJj306s-QE5DqCGvibERC5gtPWfYy9YTW/s1600/IMG_1809.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Having just read this well written and researched book, I have decided I do not want to live in the shallows. You will have to read the book to find out what this means, but it is important!</span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;">What this means for me, in terms of action, is that I am going to only look at Facebook on weekends, and only spend one hour max in the evenings (but not all evenings) answering emails, surfing, internet shopping, or whatever. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Valuable though some of this might be at times, it is important to cultivate the discernment of what is good, better, and best. If the good crowds out the best, that's not good! And for me, the best includes what is most threatened by too much time on the internet and the like. What is most threatened, according to this book, and I think it is correct, is the ability to concentrate for long periods of time on one thing; to think deeply; to read good books and make them one's own in one's long term memory (ditto for good music, etc, etc.) to go out in nature (minus any electronic devices!) and truly commune with the Divine Creation in which we live; and of course, take ample time for creativity, or old fashioned crafts like cooking, knitting, writing letters by long-hand to beloved people. How much of this gets crowded out by our immersion in the communication gadgetry that so fills our lives! So the question for me is: not either-or, but what is the BEST BALANCE in my life between using the media available to me, and other things which are at least equally if not more important for my soul, spirit, and body. How will you find that balance in your life? And do you really realize what is at stake?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-45361366806016877422014-04-26T19:08:00.002-07:002014-04-26T19:08:31.906-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFS5bwGQYXkFf2O24dkY7gk_NcH_XYW5ERvmMs0xBFqXBc0W6oTbK01rLyP5xFeR94oXbdN4OniU74SgyzouXqcChxUWAwUhbOmPJz6DCwrVs0IVAkQc6YKYIJfJKqkDOzr4apsaK4mU-4/s1600/IMG_1769.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFS5bwGQYXkFf2O24dkY7gk_NcH_XYW5ERvmMs0xBFqXBc0W6oTbK01rLyP5xFeR94oXbdN4OniU74SgyzouXqcChxUWAwUhbOmPJz6DCwrVs0IVAkQc6YKYIJfJKqkDOzr4apsaK4mU-4/s1600/IMG_1769.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Who knew that you</span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;">brilliant, blooming cactus</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">could grow such stunning beauty</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">from such a tangle of sharp thorns?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know that I too</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">can offer the beauty of Grace</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">even in the most thorny place</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">to all who pass by.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-38446698713278760512014-04-18T20:03:00.000-07:002014-04-18T20:03:27.983-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I went to the wilderness this Good Friday morning to worship in the best way I knew how. A pure white flower with four heart shaped petals gave an eloquent Easter sermon on the miracle of new life given to us as pure Grace, blooming in the desert of our hearts when we least expect it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then I looked up and saw the dry red earth covered with white flowers! My heart leaped into hope, for I had been despairing for days about the cruel fate of this tortured earth. I knelt in the red dirt and built an altar to express that hope, that Easter hope, which knows that Life does overcome the worst that death can do. </span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-70650100419122658662014-04-09T20:18:00.002-07:002014-04-09T20:18:38.878-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN_I7Fz5DLXrbWZixkYzgNE6779HBeGBT8fEMPHMUKjSfx0K4LsTglbVi1v8qsbGWaUYaQk7WlzpVzQOu_kJ9B0FTrl-O1Ueuu8qlrLQClvYRnQ3tyI28secGwykDabd9GwR2fTcAu5S8h/s1600/IMG_1656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN_I7Fz5DLXrbWZixkYzgNE6779HBeGBT8fEMPHMUKjSfx0K4LsTglbVi1v8qsbGWaUYaQk7WlzpVzQOu_kJ9B0FTrl-O1Ueuu8qlrLQClvYRnQ3tyI28secGwykDabd9GwR2fTcAu5S8h/s1600/IMG_1656.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Wondrous Water!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">May my soul, like you, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">reflect the divine beauty</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">above me, around me, within me</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">refreshing</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">delighting</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">other souls </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">as they catch a glimpse of the divine beauty</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">above, around, within them</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-29926945653011585702014-04-06T20:33:00.003-07:002014-04-06T20:33:31.045-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsRFxgfCip7p5HjMG5D-98qGUNd9YDzU84b84kRJ8EXUUB-rRhAmq6bIbTusVcaOYnYiiJpevQgKWOrZ6yE9wNpc3-oarw4-If0YlVf-_ipqqMxtPI0-QxrVOQQiIN_1yrlOC3Y6GL4Hh/s1600/photo+copy+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsRFxgfCip7p5HjMG5D-98qGUNd9YDzU84b84kRJ8EXUUB-rRhAmq6bIbTusVcaOYnYiiJpevQgKWOrZ6yE9wNpc3-oarw4-If0YlVf-_ipqqMxtPI0-QxrVOQQiIN_1yrlOC3Y6GL4Hh/s1600/photo+copy+2.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Looking towards the Light</span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;">breathing music</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">where feet </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">far more ancient than mine</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">once walked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I am not alone here.</span><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-36519724707423523952014-03-27T20:03:00.001-07:002014-03-27T20:03:17.405-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9vkM88f9JDhSxfJ43V_m2O4B5ClMa0Fmnn4Qq-jYTZpr0q1Aes-1n_9UWB2N2PaYtXr4HJqRrvskk1YkVuTxs-Qj819DEiHJC8wQ49mEdXV-2ktk93hGX1xbdlwddj67j5wwBgdaZ1X3q/s1600/IMG_1670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9vkM88f9JDhSxfJ43V_m2O4B5ClMa0Fmnn4Qq-jYTZpr0q1Aes-1n_9UWB2N2PaYtXr4HJqRrvskk1YkVuTxs-Qj819DEiHJC8wQ49mEdXV-2ktk93hGX1xbdlwddj67j5wwBgdaZ1X3q/s1600/IMG_1670.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">My latest pastel is of a lotus--one of my favorite flowers. Along with the rose, the lotus symbolizes human wholeness. I think it is fascinating that such beauty blossoms out of the muddy water where lotuses grow. On the surface they look separate, but far below, their roots are all intertwined. Lots to ponder in that image.</span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The lotus shows me that no matter how murky and tangled things are in the places we live, the beauty of our souls can blossom as we grow towards the Light. </span><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-60226935440030182932014-03-11T20:09:00.003-07:002014-03-11T20:10:17.721-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
My dear daughter Janelle just left after nearly a week with us out here.<br />
She leaves a big empty space. Her presence with us is always such a gift.<br />
I sent her home with these two bags (pictured above) for her and her husband Thomas. I knitted and crocheted them to be Appreciation Bags. Inside each bag I tucked a small gift and a note which told each of them some of the many things I appreciate about them. It was a long list and could have been a lot longer.<br />
The bags are on the glass table on our deck overlocking the red rock mountains.<br />
They glowing in the Arizona sunshine and I hope the glow goes with them back to snowy Chicago!<br />
I suggested to Janelle that she could keep the bag and put notes of what/who she appreciates in her life inside the bag and every now and then take out the notes/cards to have an Appreciation Fest. Or she could pass the bag on to someone else with a note of Appreciation. Or…..whatever she can dream up somehow connected with Appreciation and the sharing and savoring of it. <br />
I believe that when we are appreciative, we are in a high consciousness, and it is a great place to be. Its kind of another form of the old hymn sentiment "Count Your Blessings, name them one by one….."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-52207441712052320422014-03-03T19:27:00.002-08:002014-03-03T19:27:56.972-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLPaoyz8I9Nq1tV9JNgehJRiuD-v3_QiVGUmjsTaN0cC5gil7U5NeBgBsjmjG1d-vocCT-rTpXMSRCvxgq-q-yiv5YDmbsGDJYjAzMrdkSx0Io3SUj-J0EeB863vV77wJl7OxF8PPAg09A/s1600/IMG_1313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLPaoyz8I9Nq1tV9JNgehJRiuD-v3_QiVGUmjsTaN0cC5gil7U5NeBgBsjmjG1d-vocCT-rTpXMSRCvxgq-q-yiv5YDmbsGDJYjAzMrdkSx0Io3SUj-J0EeB863vV77wJl7OxF8PPAg09A/s1600/IMG_1313.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Here are three images of a rose, all of them my images, meaning, that I took a picture of a rose blooming by a big rock wall; I did a pastel based on that picture; and then I took a picture of the pastel which also reflected me. That's profound, isn't it? I mean, each of us perceives something(or someone, or some event) as an image in our own unique way. And then we re-create it in some way, even if only in our psyche. Perhaps we then reflect on it, and even share it in some way. We are truly intertwined with it. Obviously then, no one's perceptions and images of what we like to call "reality" are quite the same, and the more we make them our own, the more of ourselves go into them. How true the well known statement "We do not see things as they are; we see them as we are." <div>
No wonder it is often so hard for us to understand, really understand, one another! And how foolish for any of us to claim that our particular image/perceptions of reality is The Right One, and all others err in some way.</div>
<div>
All of this, it seems to me, is cause for cultivating the virtue of HUMILITY!</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-40725649113614746172014-02-25T19:00:00.000-08:002014-02-25T19:00:23.429-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCu0cBhosr3jdfoGtbKAJ2-kV6XUtWeFDT1Qt_CXkEKotBL1FrJVcJxUR-zMa1QpwItbdxG9LTK2RdOO26Ixdr4wkIiudHbftqH17YqLktT0-0kzq39dl1iSW0AuDPR0GD6kvW2UBdimBJ/s1600/IMG_1630.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCu0cBhosr3jdfoGtbKAJ2-kV6XUtWeFDT1Qt_CXkEKotBL1FrJVcJxUR-zMa1QpwItbdxG9LTK2RdOO26Ixdr4wkIiudHbftqH17YqLktT0-0kzq39dl1iSW0AuDPR0GD6kvW2UBdimBJ/s1600/IMG_1630.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
A couple days ago, I had lunch with a good friend at the Albuquerque Aquarium,<div>
where we were seated for lunch in the Shark Cafe right next to a viewing window, and could watch all kinds of fish, eel, sea-turtles, etc. swim by as we ate!</div>
<div>
As I reflect now on that experience, I am struck by how much it was like meditating---just sitting quietly, watching one's thoughts go by in the "fish tank" of the mind. My thoughts are not me: they are simply swimming through my mind and I am watching them---the beautiful, the ugly, the peaceful, the threatening….. all going by as I watch. </div>
<div>
A neighbor recently said to me with a wry smile "I don't let myself get all caught up in other people's dramas and issues. I have learned to be an observer, and it has served me well." </div>
<div>
Would that be living meditatively? </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-76737508822787119962014-02-16T19:05:00.003-08:002014-02-16T19:05:57.382-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">This pastel I did recently of a rushing river is hanging next to the wall clock in my kitchen here in Sedona. Why? Because as I enter into the last years of my life (I am past 70) time seems to be like this rushing river, going faster all the time</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">even though I am not nearly as busy now as I once was. For the first time in my life, I have all the leisure time I want for painting, reading, playing music, hiking, knitting, musing, writing…yet, yet, though my pace is so much slower now, time is not. Not that I feel rushed, but more as if I am being borne along on a current like a leaf. And there is nothing I can do about it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I might as well find peace in floating, and let myself be carried by a life force far greater than I.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Can any of you out there relate to that?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Here is a poem of reflection I wrote to go with the pastel:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">TIME</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It rushes onwards</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">swirling, splashing, foaming</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">carrying us all</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">A water fall's roar</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">mingles with spray in the air</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">somewhere downstream</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">What happens then to</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">these floating leaves and twigs?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Where do they go?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-73782313049978692372014-02-09T19:29:00.001-08:002014-02-09T19:29:54.871-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjulXHYU8FCToohNA0U8suUKgv9qFYEHMW26q77qptLUH8mL9BJ3lLedlXhyyoyS5h6pZ-bCvowa2fxcaQ_S0WJRALpe7fCzWT_NwALD6fw0UwEDWq_nqAN2ijBLw_vYv79x9nBXtiNFMjh/s1600/IMG_1526.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjulXHYU8FCToohNA0U8suUKgv9qFYEHMW26q77qptLUH8mL9BJ3lLedlXhyyoyS5h6pZ-bCvowa2fxcaQ_S0WJRALpe7fCzWT_NwALD6fw0UwEDWq_nqAN2ijBLw_vYv79x9nBXtiNFMjh/s1600/IMG_1526.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">In some southwest Native American tribes, the good Way to live is called "The Red Road." There are literally many red roads here in Red Rock country, all of them fitting for the Navaho chant "Walk in Beauty." To walk the Red Road in Native American tradition is to walk each day of life in a way that is courageous, generous, truthful, aware, grateful, </span><span style="font-size: large;">and considerate and respectful of others and of nature and all its beings: the stone nation, the plant nation, the animal nation, the insect nation, the bird nation, etc. </span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> It is a demanding way to walk through life, but the rewards are great, and community and nature flourish when people walk "The Good Red Road." It is a road I want to walk, and I hope you do too. </span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Here is a poem I wrote to go with the pastel I drew (pictured above.)</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> Sunlit and shadowed</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> winding through rugged country</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Red Road to higher ground</span><br /></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-86121590394665743462014-02-04T18:02:00.000-08:002014-02-04T18:02:58.286-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJDd7D3TENR_b7hRuSNA_7fXaXegdpZfYiqL1gowYwFm0cdhsfgx-o-UWAslfDyuWsJnk1KgjaKJ1cWsTSf1erXnVDADDqM5bN-K1qb59qAEBurNo0_C4tyO7SwqAN0YCWwIU5KZ7guqyb/s1600/IMG_1491.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJDd7D3TENR_b7hRuSNA_7fXaXegdpZfYiqL1gowYwFm0cdhsfgx-o-UWAslfDyuWsJnk1KgjaKJ1cWsTSf1erXnVDADDqM5bN-K1qb59qAEBurNo0_C4tyO7SwqAN0YCWwIU5KZ7guqyb/s1600/IMG_1491.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Have you ever seen trees twisted like this? I never have, until I came here to Sedona. They appear in certain places called "vortexes" where there seems to be an especially powerful feeling or energy. The twisted tree phenomena is a "sign" of this energy. </span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;">So what does this mean to me? </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Metaphorically, it reminds me that when life takes an unexpected twist, when things seem all twisted up, or when I get a new twist on an old truth, something powerful is going on, and I should pay attention. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Here is a poem I wrote about this:</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Here, a twisted tree</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">formed by mysterious energy</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">unexpected sign</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-74981621604295487742014-01-30T21:03:00.000-08:002014-01-30T21:03:00.853-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEqjTNJ3UL8txVGfg0XeppCHVwGtZ4lnzCqIgDQRv4hKMnzDRieU0OELqK0VmC__Uaes_ebtMpD_aGvCEImSfGV_QtrV4vk12HcZbujBk9JcBe24H9msep9NcCP6o6V_Nq9s-h46DQFD1/s1600/IMG_1482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEqjTNJ3UL8txVGfg0XeppCHVwGtZ4lnzCqIgDQRv4hKMnzDRieU0OELqK0VmC__Uaes_ebtMpD_aGvCEImSfGV_QtrV4vk12HcZbujBk9JcBe24H9msep9NcCP6o6V_Nq9s-h46DQFD1/s1600/IMG_1482.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I finished this pastel two days ago. When John saw it he said, "It looks like Machu Pichu!" There is a resemblance. I have seen this red rock mountain often on hikes I take in the seven canyons area near here, and I never made that connection--which goes to show how often we can miss what is obvious to others. And we see what they are missing. Clearly, many perspectives are likely to see reality more fully. It seems wise to value perspectives different than our own, rather than dismiss them, as happens too often in religious and political discourse especially, but also in personal arenas. </span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Here is the poem that came to me as I pondered this pastel:</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Red rock mountain</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">pyramid of mystery</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">guardian of the land</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Many other eyes</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">have gazed at your majesty</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">seeing what I do not </span><br /><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-43608453193334929632014-01-26T19:31:00.001-08:002014-01-26T19:37:29.201-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGq4CiWR9QOlGHrp9T2bJBtmFU6kpBa4HiWfMcgHA8JbLdqZfYV10rypGLeyyTYUZVYssqOd8jkPowWpxHPxljH-S4MYCQg0m1AJCPEwf0Yg9kCi51L9TfRjMybORQZbDCE5zEUWWdDo0F/s1600/IMG_1479.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGq4CiWR9QOlGHrp9T2bJBtmFU6kpBa4HiWfMcgHA8JbLdqZfYV10rypGLeyyTYUZVYssqOd8jkPowWpxHPxljH-S4MYCQg0m1AJCPEwf0Yg9kCi51L9TfRjMybORQZbDCE5zEUWWdDo0F/s1600/IMG_1479.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Someone built a little "altar" at the edge of Dry Creek in an area I often go for my afternoon walk with our dog Leo. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja6rzVK2Bv8ab56UMryzYuj0NADnmlUu-zfxAcAwSG1VfEkzzgmFTnM1WZNVBfL-S75XyWbSTNxmZX13l53kb-ucIQAgbp8kgOVjYd8t8bpgOzGyKi-yavcIowG5kaejKhSc4zLz3pjbPQ/s1600/P4010261.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja6rzVK2Bv8ab56UMryzYuj0NADnmlUu-zfxAcAwSG1VfEkzzgmFTnM1WZNVBfL-S75XyWbSTNxmZX13l53kb-ucIQAgbp8kgOVjYd8t8bpgOzGyKi-yavcIowG5kaejKhSc4zLz3pjbPQ/s1600/P4010261.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><span style="font-size: large;">It is just one small way of honoring a place, of showing a kind of reverent feeling for nature.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">When we are out here in Sedona, in such incredible beauty, it is easy to feel reverence and awe</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">for the beauty and mystery and majesty of creation.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But in everyday life, especially in urban settings, it is all too easy to see this great gift of God as simply a backdrop to our life, and to treat nature as an object, failing to realize how interwoven we are with all things in creation around us. What happens to it will happen to us.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Our physical welfare, and yes, the welfare of our souls, depends upon out attitude towards and treatment of the places we live. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> How many ways can you, and I, think of to care deeply for and treasure the place where we live, and beyond? </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-90186198717291075082014-01-20T18:49:00.003-08:002014-01-20T18:49:26.044-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17lQoVNS7yq6zwE-a4IoWvSCulpKthojaqxZOAcoMj3vaHp_-4R0PHLRpN2L6dMGX4hKrSUeN4up2SfTIxwvCd6qaCFq7y2EkrDvibQxfA4w5noiVwD9nQalWy5r_dDAjIYxZEajBvzHY/s1600/IMG_1416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17lQoVNS7yq6zwE-a4IoWvSCulpKthojaqxZOAcoMj3vaHp_-4R0PHLRpN2L6dMGX4hKrSUeN4up2SfTIxwvCd6qaCFq7y2EkrDvibQxfA4w5noiVwD9nQalWy5r_dDAjIYxZEajBvzHY/s1600/IMG_1416.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Native American tribes of this area have ancient stories of how their remote ancestors emerged from the under-world into this world. One such story locates this place of emergence at the small sunlit hill in front of the mountains in this picture. I painted this pastel inspired by a picture I took of this scene, which John and I drive by every time we go from Sedona to the nearby town of Cottonwood. Here is my poem about it:<div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">SIPAPU: PLACE OF EMERGENCE</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A small womb-like hill</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">framed by towering mountains;</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">golden fields; new life</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">emerging from dark shadows</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">deep below life's bright surface.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-23453836203869697752014-01-15T18:33:00.001-08:002014-01-15T18:33:06.883-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAyDs4Jyw2DZJzsREPC2Gdhlc9005SCBv1QmjND9YIW5fN9XG103V61NwcYPXHic7u6MlA8nQX5Juj7p1ocCW_i_H_dDS5U9oDiEiUMi4EYAaRrwFVz8TEXBx3riXR4NnZATMQQ-WgRIfM/s1600/IMG_1396.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAyDs4Jyw2DZJzsREPC2Gdhlc9005SCBv1QmjND9YIW5fN9XG103V61NwcYPXHic7u6MlA8nQX5Juj7p1ocCW_i_H_dDS5U9oDiEiUMi4EYAaRrwFVz8TEXBx3riXR4NnZATMQQ-WgRIfM/s1600/IMG_1396.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">THE CAVE OF THE HEART</span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">WHERE PRAYER'S INCENSE ARISES</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">FOR MOTHER EARTH'S GOOD</span><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-78992778718801357202014-01-08T20:23:00.000-08:002014-01-08T20:23:31.884-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihVgZ89HH6GRrfSDbjQH0oj9DdcB5TyL08NNGLerS2w-oG9k6FOw-1fyAxO6GEXOivxs81pNVvpv3K3Hx_6Rvjm8xPWDIL7yuOC9er44sujgCfpptdfebQSQGhWlwBUz2mhQXQTmREt5Yd/s1600/IMG_1395.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihVgZ89HH6GRrfSDbjQH0oj9DdcB5TyL08NNGLerS2w-oG9k6FOw-1fyAxO6GEXOivxs81pNVvpv3K3Hx_6Rvjm8xPWDIL7yuOC9er44sujgCfpptdfebQSQGhWlwBUz2mhQXQTmREt5Yd/s1600/IMG_1395.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
The first time I walked the Willow Loop Trail near here, I thought this structure was a barrier preventing my going further. I assumed it was a way of marking the end of the trail. So I turned around and retraced my steps back to the trail head. The next time I walked this trail, I was in a mood to continue. A closer look revealed this to be a horse gate, and I could easily wind my way through it to take the rest of the loop trail, which led me to an enchanted forest! <div>
Huge old growth trees…a white moon hanging over a gorgeous white sycamore tree…a beautiful old stump-sculpture…a snake-branch…and much more. What a great metaphor for the way we often allow obstacles to stop us from going further on a pathway of life that might lead to wonders… And often what we thought was an obstacle was just a test of our determination to go forward. I am glad I kept going! (see pics below)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLTLkhLMmKgBrnl8gIURpV9coFokECJ02vhgRHe7m9G3UQkuhdjaCy5TcrekYSVMGqNSaDwcJWrUs3AoIqi3hpTmh1TGIr7YzfrNuMwxC4eVQIHHfDDVhADLN3KYvzxpFq2XPHCmtJimCy/s1600/IMG_1390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLTLkhLMmKgBrnl8gIURpV9coFokECJ02vhgRHe7m9G3UQkuhdjaCy5TcrekYSVMGqNSaDwcJWrUs3AoIqi3hpTmh1TGIr7YzfrNuMwxC4eVQIHHfDDVhADLN3KYvzxpFq2XPHCmtJimCy/s1600/IMG_1390.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrY-sXIfceqYO-JrVXNAeMAbjAGms-gl2d4zyKfSpBwF1OxJbNvspu6L3_Oku6K627vyR23QN3_5F_g7eV6Hq730Hz8N4MH6nTQN6G17KC0bkd0IA80GU0YW0ZQDAxQJiA2VBvdFdWtxop/s1600/IMG_1394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrY-sXIfceqYO-JrVXNAeMAbjAGms-gl2d4zyKfSpBwF1OxJbNvspu6L3_Oku6K627vyR23QN3_5F_g7eV6Hq730Hz8N4MH6nTQN6G17KC0bkd0IA80GU0YW0ZQDAxQJiA2VBvdFdWtxop/s1600/IMG_1394.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXdhY2GgghAKZeND3qZBQ5NuTOl8GY9biGRVCw7oYb9yO3_M8VZYAevuE2jTKpRzetxbfdqyIO8HEqtpHCdtvwVe2ECPXF9BTu3bpT3JRTtwOhFL_tBdVDyv1xNUskilMQgnPT_QlkISpw/s1600/IMG_1391.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXdhY2GgghAKZeND3qZBQ5NuTOl8GY9biGRVCw7oYb9yO3_M8VZYAevuE2jTKpRzetxbfdqyIO8HEqtpHCdtvwVe2ECPXF9BTu3bpT3JRTtwOhFL_tBdVDyv1xNUskilMQgnPT_QlkISpw/s1600/IMG_1391.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-49026826240259590392014-01-04T19:34:00.001-08:002014-01-04T19:34:46.054-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRqIXJiPj753OeWl0JLQm3Ubdtep54EWQfeuaVqgywt_qFekPbu3S8xAZCdlVAVnkRMjaYR3F-KkWooFKK_MbRkyTbjh7f4WSJdi11gswBiCNBusieCTzRQWcFL5vfx-dKaWLoS90_f-AS/s1600/IMG_1372.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRqIXJiPj753OeWl0JLQm3Ubdtep54EWQfeuaVqgywt_qFekPbu3S8xAZCdlVAVnkRMjaYR3F-KkWooFKK_MbRkyTbjh7f4WSJdi11gswBiCNBusieCTzRQWcFL5vfx-dKaWLoS90_f-AS/s320/IMG_1372.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>In the wilderness behind our house there is a remarkable red rock formation I call "The Singers."</b></span><div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>This is a pastel I painted based on a pic I took of them one morning at sunrise. I added the shadow of me playing the flute, of course! This pictures what I was doing on New Year's day morning. </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Here is the poem I wrote to go with this pastel.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On this New Year's dawn</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">even the rocks sing praises</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">for the Light's coming.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I play praises too</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">as my flute turns breath to prayers</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">of adoration.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></span><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-88237612888676428732013-12-31T18:38:00.002-08:002013-12-31T18:38:17.736-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvqpDQ6kf4zVgaZGh9d8kxc-wl8ZkBtZ4fK3gr4y4ARUy5E5eQNBc0sU5tkKjloziL2p_0HiZAVdQ1EnC8Nl3JWLjSZWYWyzWALiD_MHPSn6mVWgtgFPsf-AETikz576gLUkAo1LpXlQOa/s1600/IMG_1338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvqpDQ6kf4zVgaZGh9d8kxc-wl8ZkBtZ4fK3gr4y4ARUy5E5eQNBc0sU5tkKjloziL2p_0HiZAVdQ1EnC8Nl3JWLjSZWYWyzWALiD_MHPSn6mVWgtgFPsf-AETikz576gLUkAo1LpXlQOa/s320/IMG_1338.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I just finished this little pastel, and it seems to me to be a fitting one to post on the last day of this old year.<div>
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<div>
Here is the poem I composed to go with it. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I WALK LIFE'S PATHWAY</div>
<div>
PATTERNED WITH LIGHT AND SHADOW</div>
<div>
I, TOO, A SHADOW </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8067517864622115926.post-13140661560371100352013-12-28T20:48:00.000-08:002013-12-28T20:48:03.773-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCi0OE_rmjm5P4JGGWP6IPmK_W0wCIrIFfYK9XudVCcf00iYbiJFVCz7KA5FuXPuCplZLTKZI9_qsLIDKkFEhWATAX7x5Gvxcw3qgh5PlF-blGvx6nelkzy0nzszR06evXMC1k7lrD-n80/s1600/singers+at+sunrise.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCi0OE_rmjm5P4JGGWP6IPmK_W0wCIrIFfYK9XudVCcf00iYbiJFVCz7KA5FuXPuCplZLTKZI9_qsLIDKkFEhWATAX7x5Gvxcw3qgh5PlF-blGvx6nelkzy0nzszR06evXMC1k7lrD-n80/s320/singers+at+sunrise.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Another year is (almost) dawning as the Christmas season wanes.<div>
At Christmas, we celebrate, among other things, a fresh start for the human race in the person of the Holy Christ Child. So it seems appropriate to me that shortly after we celebrate this fresh start, we also celebrate the fresh start a new year brings us. And there are special songs to help us celebrate these fresh starts. If you are like me, some of these songs have woven their way through my life for many years. </div>
<div>
Out in the land behind our Sedona house I found something that always reminds me of the importance of songs and singing in all the seasons of my life. It is a large red rock formation I call "The Singers" because in the rock pillar I see the silhouettes of two faces looking in opposite directions, and they both seem to be singing. They remind me that one can sing in the midst of the opposites of life and death, joy and sorrow, beginnings and endings. </div>
<div>
One of my favorite songs is "How Can I Keep from Singing?"</div>
<div>
Here are the words: </div>
<div>
My life goes on in endless song above earth's lamentation</div>
<div>
I hear the real, though far off song, that hails a New Creation.</div>
<div>
Through all the tumult and the strife, its voice to me is ringing.</div>
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It sounds an echo in my soul. How can I keep from singing?</div>
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<br /></div>
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Whenever I see these singers, especially on a sunrise walk, I imagine they are singing in the New Creation for which this weary world is waiting.</div>
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And so am I!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Here is a poem I wrote to go with the picture of The Singers:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">WHO CAN HEAR THEIR SONG</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">AS THE SILENT SUN POURS LIGHT</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">UPON A DARK WORLD?<a name='more'></a></span><br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0