Tag: female abstract expressionist painter
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Cookin’ with Gas
I did not realize I missed baking until I made a loaf of soda bread. Been years. Hunkered down in the rental, I munch the hot nutty staff of life (pecans, walnuts, sunflower seeds) with raspberry jam. Earlier, I biked for flour, easily missing the deluge the followed. “Isn’t it great?” I smiled at neighbors…
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Dancing Through Life
Bioluminescent night swim again. Every single time I do this, I remember that it’s an amazing planet, full of miracles and wonders. Sparks stream from my hands, a leaping fish splashes into flashes of radiance. We are oh so briefly illuminated in this world. Let’s enjoy it. Boat for sale Books for saleLetters to LuluRomy…
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Ambling
I’m not in Tallahassee, carefully angling the travel trailer behind Trader Joe’s for comfort food, after yet another attempt to reconcile with a relative. I’m not in County Cork, dismayed as my grandfather yells at my brother for blowing bubbles in his soda. I’m not in a Budapest bath, standing in a cool pool while…
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Reminders
We only know one-tenth of one-tenth of one-tenth of anything, and even that, not all the time. We forget, we humans, that all is not pain and suffering. We forget, we humans, that the extraordinary is all around us. We forget, we humans, the constant and ever-changing miracle of life. We forget, we humans. But…
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Cabooses
My mother sewed us little muu-muus to sleep in, which we called cabooses for some reason. After Johnny transitioned, I opened our drawer and looked at them that first night. We shared a bedroom. We shared everything. That first night was strange. I was alone. It was my turn to open the drawer with the…
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Devoted
“Attention is the beginning of devotion.” —Mary Oliver I am devoted to the Ocean, but there was a time, not long ago, that my attention to her (and me) waned. Eventually I became ill. Eventually Death inched closer. Then closer. I didn’t want to die inland, so, barely breathing, heart stuck on Rapid, I drove…
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Flight/Fight
Beware the miserable: they will try to cut you down. It ain’t personal, but it can be painful. Jealousy has been a problem most of my life, both ways. Fortunately, I’m still standing, so I can still learn. Why is that relative hating on me? Oh yeah: envy. Why is that boatyard bozo targeting me?…
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Boatyard Bitch
After much grief from various Boatyard Bozos, I created a group of my own: The Boatyard Bitches. Much to my delight, another capitana joined immediately. To paraphrase Sherlock Holmes (via Arthur Conan Doyle), the air of Peñasco is sweeter for my presence. Surfing helps deal with dodos too. When the tide is low and the…
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Clan Markings
A bright yellow fish I’d never seen before accompanied my morning swim today. Three inches long and roundish, it may have been attracted by my neon marigold swimsuit. This singular pisces darted around me the entire mile (with my other marine friends), and I was sad to exit the Sea and leave it behind. I…
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Yes-ness
A feeling of Yes-ness means you are on the right Path. It doesn’t mean there will be no obstacles. Several times this week I found myself in a river of tiny fish. Millions of inch-long swimmers surrounded me, flicks of iridescent beige, rose, cobalt, gold, and silver in the emerald Sea. Sometimes I could not…
