Monday, August 17, 2020

Real Ones

You make me feel alive, 

electrified by your presence
God sent me a blessing in surprise
despite her size, small, but mighty
hands that have gripped life
have accepted what they were meant for
she is graceful, she is grateful ,
she is spirit filled, she is wise in her years
she is a friend that was sent from God
aren't they all, yes
but there are some that come
and make you realize were you are from
remember that you were called
remember that you are loved
LARA 



Wednesday, August 12, 2020

The Most Curious Woman in The World

    The Mother of Curious // oil // canvas //20 in x 24 in 


Eve, 

The mother of all creation. The first, the first blood from the womb earth. As I wonder what she was like, i see her in all creation. Man and Womb-man alike. She is within us all. And even in our curiosity, we find first that it came from our mothers mothers mother. The story of Eve and her curiosity is most times told as a tale of coming of age and knowledge starting with curiosity. Though some judge her curiosity, maybe in it we find ourselves and answers to why we are curious about things that have both negative and positive effects on us and in our lives. All the same, curiosity is not cursed. But endowed with a discernment once we place in order our steps. Or allow the spirit to teach us the boundaries within our willingness to want to find, find out, or find within. 

Tuesday, August 11, 2020

Friends

 

Things I Still Must Do

Things I Still, must do:

#1. 

They have a tendency these days not to have any reason, take any specific color or shape. They just peer in at you when your on the john. 

18 x 24 
ink // acrylic// newsprint 

California Bird

18 in x 24 in 
ink // watercolor // cold press
35 mm
 

When I was a bird

You were the ones who loved my song
Many times you'd sing along

Enchanted by what you want to be
Caught me , trapped by your beliefs

Now I'm in the cage you made

Crushed beneath your selfish ways

No song to sing

My tears are a stir

The bars like knives your angry words

Some have need and some lack for want
All want to feel love to some degree
Maybe it's time that this bird break free

Thousands of miles unto the sea
Into the wild, with palm and tree

Thinking of western shores that peeked
And remind me of a time I didn't mind to teach

A time when I took pride in the children's minds I reached
and loved the joy I received from each

Now I sit, and face a beach
No board to ride on smooth concrete

I lift my head above the place I weep
The man, the willow, coconut tears for meat
Wake to praise as the trumpet plays

Sounds of freedoms light

I remember my song and why it was gone

Why it was meant
for those who lament

To bring peace and strength

You wanted to feel that presence
With you always
You wanted to lock it inside your pocket
To save for your own need

But the song of a bird that is meant to be heard
Shall give it the will to break free