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“Yes, we’re okay.”

March 9, 2015

I guess there are things I should keep to myself. Let others live in the illusion that things are okay. Things are cool. Well, things are okay on their end. And that is what matters. Because that is what matters. For now. If they’re happy, then… No drama.


Letting the universe speak

March 6, 2015

Sometimes when you have over-thought and over-rationalized a situation you turn to non-rational sources or devices as a resource. I think I have have reached that point.

Maybe I was in need of guidance? A sounding board? Validation? Encouragement? Or maybe I’m trying to channel what the universe has to say. So, I consulted some kind of oracle. I should mention that while I find the art fascinating I do not necessarily believe in their literal truth. It really is more of a Rorschach test—you find what you see. Or a psychotherapy session—your thoughts are merely reflected back at you. Or poetry—you are given symbols and you find meaning in them.

So, the universe spoke. Or maybe it merely whispered. Murmured? Did I hear it correctly? I do not know. Maybe I just needed to hear someone say that I’m still putting my heart in the right place. Or to know If the universe really is willing to help conspire to grant my heart’s desire, as promised in The Alchemist.

It seems apropos since it all sort of started with a palm reading. What does palmistry say about the significance of the right palm? If the universe and the stars do have anything to say about anything, then I am reserving the right one for you.


Completely and absolutely

February 17, 2015

A bittersweet moment if there ever was one. But sweet above bitter and everything else. Today I genuinely smiled for the first time in weeks. Because I choose to celebrate what is good about about us. And I choose to continue to live and love. Still. Completely and absolutely.


A Great Big World & Christina Aguilera, “Say Something”

January 21, 2015

Because, darn it, I’m getting so close to that point.

Coming and going…

January 12, 2015

Is it about unfulfilled spiritual quest? A longing for a love that never was? And is there a tinge of hope in there? Or is it hopelessness?

Dear Rainer still continues to speak to me…

You who never arrived
in my arms, Beloved, who were lost
from the start,
I don’t even know what songs
would please you. I have given up trying
to recognize you in the surging wave of
the next moment. All the immense
images in me — the far-off, deeply-felt landscape,
cities, towers, and bridges, and un-
suspected turns in the path,
and those powerful lands that were once
pulsing with the life of the gods–
all rise within me to mean
you, who forever elude me.

You, Beloved, who are all
the gardens I have ever gazed at,
longing. An open window
in a country house– , and you almost
stepped out, pensive, to meet me. Streets that I chanced
you had just walked down them and vanished.
And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors
were still dizzy with your presence and, startled, gave back
my too-sudden image. Who knows? Perhaps the same
bird echoed through both of us
yesterday, separate, in the evening…

– Rainer Maria Rilke

Translation by Stephen Mitchell

Sketches II

February 18, 2010
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Because sometimes the most convenient thing to sketch is just what’s in front of you…


February 16, 2010
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Bought myself a 12-piece set of watercolor pencils last weekend. Trying to tap into some of my creative energies again.

There were larger sets of watercolor pencils available–from the still rather modest 24 and going up to the substantial 36. I chose the smallest set because I wanted the fun (and challenge) of mixing my own colors, layering one over the other without sometimes not knowing what effect it would have. I sort of wanted to go back to the basics and re-familiarize with color theory, and working with a limited palette would force me to do that. (I wasn’t one of those kids who went crazy over those big boxes of Crayola.) So, doing my first couple of sketches, I surprised even myself with how my technique has changed even if I haven’t  done any sketching in such a long time. My approach to color has also changed; I don’t see objects or planes as big blobs of color anymore. Having studied  and long admired Impressionist and post-Impressionist painters, one would think that their philosophy would have rubbed off on me, so to speak. I did try to copy them, but therein lay the problem. Copying was not the same as seeing.

I’ve recently come to depend on the computer to help me in many of my creative projects. It is rather nice to be able to hold hold something in my hands, other than a mouse, and have that familiar control over something more organic like a pencil.