Archives for posts with tag: expression

Pigeons gather around,
gobble their bounty
at the curbside.
Car door opens-

In unison, pigeons fly away
and around, only to return
to the beginning.

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I’ve actually had fun attempting self-portraits in the past, and I still enjoy trying to draw myself from time to time. 

The urge most recently came about a few months ago when I decided to do a quick sketch from a photo to use instead of a photo of myself as my Avitar for a class I was taking. I liked how it turned out. 

This is a recent attempt that I decided to sketch because of two new things: my perm and new glasses. 

The glasses are inevitable. It was time, but the cost always hurts.

I’ve been wanting so much to come to the page, so I’m writing myself through it. I need to get back to my writing practice. Maybe I feel freer today because a class has ended, because the warm sunshine on my face as I walk to lunch energizes me, and because there is an end in sight to the busy season. 

It’s been at least 10 years since I last got a perm and I swore that I would not get another. I needed a change, a lift to my step. I plunged forward. The hair stylist, also owner of the salon, did a great job. She had done enough perms over the years, that I knew I was in good hands. 

Self-portraits have a tendency to reveal something we may have not noticed about ourselves in that moment that a regular photograph may not catch. Adding the color by mood and feeling adds another element. I love the process. 


Sitting amongst the birch trees,
I listen to the day fade in and out, as I put markings down on the page, coax an image that is enough for me to recognize this moment, eager to continue marking the days–marking the pages with, not only words, but real images. 

I actually didn’t think we would have any view of the strip when we checked in. We were pleased with the view that we did have. It was relaxing to look out the window at Paris, Las Vegas, to see the dancing fountains of the Bellagio that are especially impressive at night from the top of the Eiffel Tower.

It was a great get-a-way. On our last day, walking back to our hotel through busy streets of people–some that had noticeably exceeded their alcohol limits–I felt ready to leave this bustling city.

Yet here I am, missing it already, planning our next trip in my mind.

**

Blinking lights and bustling streets,
this part of the city never sleeps. As the days run into weekend,
activity and people multiply before my eyes. Romantic lights
of the Bellagio tantalize. Lights and sound from every direction
rest upon my senses, pulling me in different directions. Nature far off in the background, still in sight, offering a reminder–a sense of grounding and perspective.

 

As I exit the library doors, outside
the majestic pines and quietness of the street wrap around me like a
warm embrace.

The other morning, as I was just about to get out of bed, I heard a “meow” then another. The window was slightly open, so I could hear this mystery kitty. We’ve been hearing loud running on the rooftop at night. We joked that it sounds like a tiger. I got out of bed and peeked through the blinds. Kitty was sitting atop of one of the wooden bench seats. He didn’t see me. I stared at him taking in his black, shiny coat. I clicked my tongue to get his attention; he turned his head, startled. We looked at each other for a moment, I said hello. He responded with a dash, and quickly darted off.

A sound that made me smile extra wide this week was a woodpecker pecking. I rarely hear them anymore and for some reason that sound takes me somewhere evoking a childhood giddiness inside my soul.

Sunday we plan to take the last of our things which will no longer make this home our home. There will be new sounds; lots more birds; yapping doggies, which I’ll be joyed to cuddle with.

When I passed these flowers on one of my walks during lunch hour, I almost went by without taking a photo. I couldn’t help myself; they were too beautiful and happy for me not to take them in for a bit longer.

**

Black cat meows as if in conversation with himself;
happy flowers stand at attention in flower pots,
waiting to be noticed by passerby;
woodpeckers keep on pecking even when you don’t hear them–
each day–
something the same and something surprising.

365 days of passing
This tree
The same
Yet different

Thoughts spin like a marble,
colors blend together into confusion,
going fast, spinning out of control.
And when the marble stops, there is
a great calm; the colors are vibrant, the surface is smooth–until it begins
again.

Pants that were loose don’t fit,
Pants that were just right are now too tight.
Months ago three bagfuls unloaded that I couldn’t snap closed.
The weight has gradually spread.
What could I expect? Less exercise, more sitting and eating.
Arms, stomach: less muscle, more fatty.
I’m still petite; I don’t actually look overweight, but I feel it,
and, of course, I see it. Hubby sees it too, but
we try to laugh about it.
The proof is in the pants that no longer fit.

**

And with that, I had to donate another batch of clothing this weekend. I suppose it’s not all that bad. I couldn’t expect to stay the same size forever. I then went to a few of my favorite thrift stores so that I could find some more bargains. I needed to act fast, since the bottom half of my wardrobe is greatly diminished, and means I have to make sure I don’t run out of pants by laundry day. I don’t wear skirts or dresses often, hardly really. I did find some great pants. I haven’t had a pair of jeans that I fit into for months; I sorely miss wearing them. It’s more comfortable with my changing, middle-aged body to opt for a little bit of elasticity, so the jeans that I found in Ross, for quite a bargain, did have room for movement and slight expansion–and yes, I do like a good bargain! And I was happy with the fit.

**

I wish everyone that lands here, a very happy Friday and much positive light and balance!
: )

The rays of the sun pushed
through the clouds–
broad, downward brushstrokes
filled with the energy of the sun.