How to Share: Buddhafully

 

 

 

for a friend
you'd share anything.
for a friend,
you'd create ...
call & response.
how to be there
while being here.

when you don't know what to do,
do something. the right thing happens.

(Collage recipe: one of your paintings, some of your photographs, glue, wax, heat, apply...THEN, CUT INTO TWO TO SHARE, turn, look, send half off in the mail. which half did i send? the top photo shows the 2 parts put back together, with cut line)

the incredible lightness of rocks...

 

 

 

 

just delivered these "newly enraptured rocks" of mine to Folio Salon...
using more of my images/photographs/drawings, a large crystal, as well as 1850's period Japanese wood block papers (the hand/japanese lettering) ~~~~~
my friend noticed that these are so much lighter than the last group.
and they indeed are. these smooth greyish-white stones call for that, and i respond.

here's Pablo Neruda's homage to the crystal:

"Quartz opens its eyes in the snow
and grows spiky,
slipping on the white
into its own whiteness:
multiplying the mirrors
it poses in facets, at angles:
white sea urchin
from the depths,
it is son of the salt
that shoots up to heaven,
glacial orange blossom
of silence,
very principle of foam:

by virtue of the earth's pride
the clarity that awaits me."

enRAPTuring rocks

Out of the quiet,
answering the call.
rocks needed, wrapped.
so it began again, the bundling. which goes with which, who needs paper, or a little old bead?
the "call and response" works everytime. a message from a friend who once displayed and sold my pieces a decade ago in their aveda salon. happy to throw myself into the process, the weekend buzzed by, a window open, birds chirping, spring has come and the rocks are moving on. some sitting outdoors, some in, all put together in my little world and taken off to the shop yesterday to begin their new life, enRAPTuring others. carried away to a shelf, as a gift, a tiny voice from the earth.

at least i like to think that.

and i'd like to leave this with a poem:

LIKE A LITTLE STONE

Like a little stone, feel the shadow of the great earth;
let distance pierce you till you cling to trees.
That the world may be all the same,
close your eyes till everything is,
and the farthest sand can vote.

Making the world be big by hunting its opposite,
go out gleaning for lost lions
that are terrified by valleys of still lambs,
for hummingbirds that dream before each wingbeat,
for the mole that met the sun.

If time won't let a thing happen, hurry there,
to the little end of the cone that darkness bends.
Any place where you turn but might have gone on,
all possibilities need you there.
The centers of stones need your prayers.

david rome

in response to a maya angelo poem and a snowsuited child making an angel in the snow on kim's beautiful posting at WORDS ON PAPER SCRAPS(in the sidebar), i commented with this:

there were days:
for snowsuits and angels,
for fear of love,
and then falling:
for someone, for a moment,
for the snow, for myself.
for being brave
alone in the cold.


i'll add a poem from ALISTAIR REED that i've kept close by for years:

to rise to the sky you need
two wings,
a violin,
and so many things,
incalculable things, things without names,
a license for a large slow-moving eye,
the inscription on the nails of the almond tree,
the titles of the grass in the morning.