Scenarios in my head – Ridiculous!

Scenarios in my head – Ridiculous!!

Turning away from jeering voices, my soul encourages it’s mind to continue, recognizing the pain and the glory co-existent there.

Muscovy duck, stylish red bandana with bright eye slit, and preeeny white feathers, turned head to look back at me, from the right eye – was I a peril? from the left eye – a peril or a persona,  a human mask inhabited by and aware of Life?

I turned my back to the duck and looked at it over my shoulder with left eye, pause, and then, turning my head,  with right eye. I slowly turned my head to look again with left eye – duck had hidden her head, red wattles hiding among wing and back feathers. Oh how the darling duck made me laugh with its invention and my mind’s surprise.

The temple at Persepolis has sculptures of lions on two legs, embracing human figures standing likewise. Once was a queendom when animals were not abused as less than human, when humans favored the noble characteristics of the animals we are. No doubt there were farmers who worked the land and supplied the palaces which kept the peace through establishing and maintaining justice, along with the elevated culture of the palace.

In these times, power is enslaved; in too many palaces Mammon and Mars rule, Gaia has been shoved aside. But this is to our growing and ever more obvious peril..

I exult in knowing my original spirit, which watches my mind spin its story in this body created by that Life, in the human pattern,  with my personal DNA, for its own elucidation.
The story of this  particular, time-bound body unfolds universally in memories, dreams and reflections – variations on the mundane, the far from banal theme of evolving animal consciousness.



Two ducks had their heads in the shallow water, the dark head crest of the third one, continuing down the back of its neck between the paler side feathers made it look like a young black man with a box cut. Very stylish, I thought , complimented it in my mind.  Shyly, he hid his  head in the water. Another lifted it’s head and looked at me. I looked at it.  Our intense scrutiny made her shuffle her feet in the water. I queried her  telepathically. With a tail wiggle,  she put her head under. The ducks continued skimming the shallow sandy bottom for food.

I walked over the damp grass to my favorite tree, It too has felt the ravages of time and temperature and is split at the base, with several levels of interior structure  around the innermost long shaft. A shelf mushroom grows at the top of the cleft. I leaned against its leaning trunk, and watched another person on the path. Were they male or female, or ungendered ?? I wondered. At Quaker Spiritual Formation Group, we had heard from Kay about the new gender statuses:
ungendered – identifying with no particular gender
cisgendered – identifying with the gender assigned to you at birth
trans – moving between genders.
These are not the same as the already existing terms for sexual preference.
Later, the same flat chested, pear shaped person, with short blond hair and gender neutral clothes exchanged a warm smile with me – we recognised kindred spirits. I guessed they might be exulting in gender neutrality, ungendered, after a double mastectomy.  No need for a burqua now – to be free of gender assigned presuppositions.

I danced my jerky robot flow dance  to the radio waves of a chap in the gazebo. He had a black tshirt and a long red braid. His girl friend whose teeth were not expensively dentured, stretched out along the same park bench. They were 80’s children, born in the 70’s .
“What IS this ?”
“D. R. I.” He answered, “ like when the floor is wet, and you put up a sign saying D.r.i..”
“That ….. that is…. that’s totally messed up.” I said. We all laughed.

A kid ran on stocky little legs up the path. Parents were nowhere in sight. Then I spied a mother pushing a large carriage with two other small children nearby going as fast as she could up the hill. As a Trump advertisement bombasted, I ran to head off the toddler before he got to the road.
Scooping him up in my arms and setting him down, we were panting and laughing, I asked him , “What’s your name”
“Is that your sister?”
“what’s her name?”
“I dont know.”
WHAT, I think. The little girl runs up to us. “Are you his sister” I ask? She replies in the affirmative, her name is Iris, and she says his name is Theo. “We have an aunt called Theo”.
Hmm I think.
Two mothers pushing multi baby carriages and with a scattering of other small children come up alongside us. We all continue on our way. I wave a conspiratorial goodbye to IanTheo.

I think of whether I should talk to the 80’s kids in the park about voting. Decide against it. My mind considers the candidates and imagines, Trump winning and revealing his friendship with Hillary has turned into an affair. Now America moves…His childish understanding of world politics moderated by her experience, his vaunted determination to protect American workers and end bad trade deals shaped in a way that improves conditions for workers world wide, his ignorant conception of America as a leader turned towards a green energy revolution;  yeah and Trump and Clinton’s love child comes out of hiding and leads America in a 60’s hippie dream of an earth restored. Peace and Love Man!

I am in your head

3 pieces.

To arguing children on a moonlit night beneath trees:

“Tell the truth or the pain is prolonged”.



To a child afraid of dogs for no known reason:

“Aah then, you have absorbed the fear from others. Try trusting dogs a little bit, while knowing some are treacherous. It’s like humans. But we have to keep going. Be Brave. It’s hard after all, ’til it becomes easier to be brave.

clouds 2


One remaining tooth, a gaunt and stubbled face, loaded plastic bags;  He said,

“An army of angels follows me.”

I said, ” Good. I am walking through them” , as we went our separate ways. “They are like bubbles, it’s fun!!”

3 lights and clouds









Studio Activities 9.9.16

Art group 9.9.16

Semi Abstract Collage.Title:  Queen

Method: Choose a primary and the two colors either side- in this case red, plus orange and violet. Rip out pieces of magazine in those colors. Assemble. Add a dash of a different color.

5x5 collage

Poetry as Art – unfinished.

Un jeu des mots – a game of words. Word Sound and meaning, rhyme , rythm and resonance.

Mot and moth are similar in spelling. The game dances between English and French.

as the moth to the flame, un mot a

Exploring Inner Dimensions.

Method: write down five questions you would like answered. Choose one. Rip out pictures from magazines without examining why this or that image is asking to be taken. Cut or tear out the relevant part of the image and assemble on the page. Create interpretations. You may ask others what they see. Remember always – the image belongs to the one who created it. Anyone else’s interpretation is theirs, and they are entitled to it – for it speaks to them of themself. The assembler of the image chooses what meaning they attribute to their collage.

eleusinian- elysian

Another Inner Dimensions Collage.

Words are not usually part of this image work, however rules are made to be broken and in this case words were used a  design element around the images. I have blurred the words. I am wild about the ballsy girl with a kitten head, and the sex kitten with a little head, instinctual, dog darling, doing the thinking. Sexy, empowered in those red shoes, for what? she is holding a pack of slim fast diet drink. Sorry it got blurred. This is a fabulous discussion of women’s received roles. Made by a woman defining her own role for herself.

kim collage edited

Collage using color scraps from magazine.

Kim collage egg sky

I consider this to be an excellent composition and i believe it would be fun to explore the compostion in other mediums.


This is pic of Yours Truly at Dick Blick Art supply. Tampa Plein Air group met there recently.

Join me at the studio. Check out Tampa Artist Makers  Explore Inner Dimensions in Meetup.

or email me to set up a time..

Stories within Stories

I love this painting which is open to bids – for my candidate choice.. This is how I get involved with local politics. I’ve had a great time, meeting neighbors while campaigning. When i walk around my neighbrohood, yard signs I’ve got placed are like PokemonGO, in real life. It’s like finding a power ball that I placed there. I can bowl that ball at the monsters who pop up on the screen of my mind, because reality is our own fiction. WOOP WOOP. In my mind I’m contributing to an electoral process that works. Of course in reality…..   Fact is the rules of the game have been created by the players with the lowest morals. But we are rising, and we are sick of that. When they go low, we go high. Give me Pat Kemp and mass transit.  The painting is 40 x 60. The butterfly is an almost extinct Miami Blue. The dreaming cat is Mr Grey, the “cave painting” on the left is one of my alter egos, Bone Eye. You will find Kokopeli in the stars to the right, and a goddess – oh so many stories…

writings;philosophical meanderings