365 days of aRt. DAY ONE HUNDRED & EIGHTY-FOUR.

i detach from my thoughts
and get lost in the moment
both future and past fade away
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Blog about the piece:
Lost is exactly where we are. Instead of trying to figure out where you are just be HERE!
An excerpt from Dan Millman's, Way of the Peaceful Warrior: Ignoring me, he asked, "Where are you today, right now?'" Eagerly, I started talking about myself. However, I noticed that I was being sidetracked from getting answers to my questions. Still, I told him about my distant and recent past and about my inexplicable depressions. He listened patiently and intently, as if he had all the time in the world, until I finished several hours later,
"Very well," he said. "But you have still not answered my question about where you are."
"Yes I did, remember? I told you how I got to where I am today by hard work." "Where are you?"
"What do you mean, where am I?" "Where are you?" he repeated softly. "'I'm here." "'Where is here?"
"'In this office, in this gas station!" I was getting impatient with this game.
"Where is this gas station?'" "'In Berkeley." "Where is Berkeley?'" "'In California."
"Where is California?'" "'In the United States." "Where is the United States?"
"'On a land mass, one of the continents in the Western Hemisphere Socrates, I . . ."
"'Where are the continents?"
I sighed. "On the earth. Are we done yet?"
"Where is the earth?"
"In the solar system, third planet from the sun. The sun is a small star in the Milky Way galaxy, all right?"
"Where is the Milky Way?"
"Oh, brother," I sighed impatiently, roiling my eyes, "In the Universe." I sat back and crossed my arms with finality.
"And where," Socrates smiled, "is the Universe?" "The Universe is, well, there are theories about how it's shaped . . ."
"That's not what I asked. Where is it?" "I don't know--how can I answer that?"
"That is the point. You cannot answer it, and you never will. There is no knowing about it. You are ignorant of where the Universe is, and thus, where you are. In fact, you have no knowledge of where anything is; nor do you know what anything is or how it came to be. It's a mystery...
"Where are you?" he yelled from directly behind me.
I spun around fell onto the hood of a Chevy. "I don't know!" I stammered.
"Absolutely right," he said, turning on the lights. "I guess you are getting smarter," he said, with a Cheshire cat grin.

365 days of aRt. DAY ONE HUNDRED & EIGHTY-THREE.

silence and i'm finding me.

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Blog about the piece: Let me start off by asking you a question: Is there any part of your day that's quiet, I mean really silent? There aren't too many of us that can answer that question with an absolute yes. In fact I would guess that a lot of people would have to say no. From the moment our alarms go off in the morning to the way our culture often falls asleep to t.v. at night, it has become quite a busy and noisy lifestyle we live. Even in the times that the noise is minimal we often fail to embrace it because our minds are going a mile a minute. We are already planning our next step. Center yourself! Silence is important. Silence gives us those introspective moments that us help move away the clutter and see clearly in the moment. Lawrence Durell writes, “Does not everything depend on our interpretation of the silence around us?” Perhaps today we could all find a few moments of silence. Maybe it's already there - in the shower, at the breakfast table, in that pillow time. Maybe you have to work for it - turn off the phone, turn down the radio in the car, turn off the t.v. at home. If you try I'm sure you'd be surprised at how much "finding me" time you can come up with. Give yourself the opportunity and get a little quiet today.

365 days of aRt. DAY ONE HUNDRED & EIGHTY-TWO.

she's southern whiskey, dixie flower

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Blog about the piece: 

Have you ever come across the term"southern hospitality"? With relatives in Georgia, Florida, Kentucky and Arkansas I can say that I not only have heard but experienced the term many times. Southern hospitality refers to the welcoming and good natured characteristics of the south. My favorite aspect of southern hospitality is the willingness to embrace and even care for a stranger. Sometimes I look around and feel a growing distance between the people I see. I feel as though our virtual world often takes the place of real community interaction. But what if we turned that around? What if, through simple acts of kindness, we began to embody southern hospitality to its fullest. We could build a positive environment for those close to us and also contribute to the well being and greater good of perfect strangers. I encourage you to try taking small steps toward simple acts of kindness... smile when someone walks by, give a gift, give a hug, give encouragement. It doesn't take a lot to spread goodness. The small things matter.

365 days of aRt. DAY ONE HUNDRED & EIGHTY-ONE.

be the balance in the crossfire of conflicting times. 

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Blog and song submitted by guest blogger, Emily Irene Bedal:
https://soundcloud.com/emilybedal/safe-in-my-arms-again-1

safe in my arms again

breaking in now, like a murderer
straight from the woods, how no one has heard of her
soft, like the under-belly of her coat
and all the hard hat men stare straight from the balcony of steel cages down at the ground beneath
tiny torn bodies trying to keep a firm foot on the boat
and I pound the pavement with a knot in my jaw
this was the one monster that no one saw coming
cling to your child ma
cause there ain't no running away
sound the cymbals and ring the alarm
silence the world
until you're safe in my arms again
sweet jesus my heart strings about to go break
break break break
breaking in now, like a murderer
straight from her bible, truth came in and burned her
tough like the tempest surging through her veins
and the hard hat men stare straight from the
balcony of cruel intentions and love they're feigning to meet tiny torn bodies trying to keep up with the stories they're told
and I pound the pavement with a knot in my jaw
this was the one monster that no one saw coming
cling to your child mother, cause there ain't no running away
sound the sinners, pining their charm
silence the world
you're safe in my arms again
sweet jesus my heart string's about to go break
break break break
put her down now, creature have you heard of her
straight from the sun, wind, sand don't be a murderer
straight from the woods and now she's coming
home to me
straight from the jaws of a first class citizen of broken limbed
branched out times that we're living in
cold like the chill i've found in my bones
babe you've been running fast as you can
from the blood in your veins, from the
fooling fine face of a man
never gonna know when it rains
so mercy put her now, creature have you heard of her
straight from the sun , wind sand don't be a murderer
straight from the woods and now she's coming
home to me
straight from the jaws of a first class citizen of broken limbed
branched out times that we're living in
she was cold like the chill i've found in my bones

this song was written in response to the first somatic flashbacks i experienced this year uncovering sexual abuse in my past. it is a terrible, gut wrenching, taboo subject that causes incredible pain and separation amongst families. disbelief, false accusation, and the need to DENY the truth. to be a survivor feels devastating at times, because i know my life will never be the same, armed with this knowledge. to face the facts with courage, to stand strong in my bodily convictions, and ultimately, to seek and believe in my own healing is the ultimate journey to be on. to truly embody being "the balance in the crossfire of conflicting times" is my holy teacher. there are days i wake up and want to forget. that i run the opposite direction of healing. straight into food, or lack thereof, straight into shutting out the rest of the world, straight into alcohol, or whatever is available, whatever checks me "out". but the first steps of courage i take into facing my bodily reality are the moments when i find courage to keep going. to not abandon myself, to not abandon that little girl who feels utterly identity-less, but to seek a new and more integrated, multi-dimensional identity. this is the song for me. this is the process of reclamation and processing hurt, and ultimately coming to peace with it. the imagery that came to mind when this song was written, was a beautiful, innocent little girl making her way out of the woods. out of nature, out of untouched and perfect beauty--basically out of the innocence we are all born with. the song proceeds to paint a picture of men staring at the little girl with malintention, and then the chorus reveals my own voice now as the one who has been made aware. who has been let it on a secret-- my own secret. spoken from my own perspective. seeing the little girl emerge again, confused, shut down and trapped, and telling her to come back into my arms. that she is safe here-- and a message to all people-- our bodies are our own. we are precious beings not to be messed with. keep your love close, safe and warm, and when you need to, which is always, "be the balance in the crossfire of conflicting times." do not fear the adversity, sing into it.

365 days of aRt. DAY ONE HUNDRED & EIGHTY.

i keep thinking that change

is what i'm waiting for

but my piggy bank is empty

and the world keeps turning without me

my idea of change has me looking

outside of myself

when really the major steps

are happening on the inside 

why was i so blind to see it

all this time i was waiting

for the sun to rise

meanwhile divine light

was glowing bright within my soul

surrender was my catalyst

a way to make me whole

(canvas text)

Blog about the piece:
Change is inevitable, for everything changes: the days, the seasons, the tides, the body. Change is what we know and yet some of us wake up and do the SAME THING everyday. We cling to familiarity like it's the basis of life when really growth, metamorphosis, variation, and diversity is what life is all about. This past Tuesday while conjuring up some morning inspiration I came across an enticing article written by a young man in San Francisco. He spoke of America's overwhelming need to control life: the daily planners, event calendars, hourly routines and how western culture seems to map out the entire day minute by minute. It is interesting though how fast all of that planning can get thrown out the door. The unexpected happens everyday. In one second our lives take a turn and we are left clutching these planners that no longer are needed, they no longer make sense. Let it go! Know that change is always occurring and it is something we cannot control. Today, surrender to the moment.

random acts of ART.

another random act of ART.
downtown detroit.

dancing feet. the floor creaks. 

random acts of ART. my coffee and your tea

artist medium: coffee cup, ink, acid free markers