and some leaf . Otherwise just a LOT of WIND. the wall shakes.
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18 responses to “just a little Sky”
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this whole image seems very familiar. trying to catch why. wind here too.
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i can’t respond
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oh…woops…i did…the whole respond format is not
appearing…just the top
but what i wanted to say is TELL…if you understand why, the familiarity. i am looking for SIGNS of any kind to know how to proceedLikeLike
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you’ve created such a magical, safe haven, it seems. perfectly aligned with ally and sunflower mother. are the threads in the sky WIND?
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it is something to think about..how the wind is swirling over the distances between us..the immense spaces it covers..
and the care you took with her breeze lifted hair..and the way my breath calms being here..LikeLike
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A sturdy stalk for the wind. This makes me feel better for some reason.
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it’s a magic place this refuge under the sunflower
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I love the size here and their hands and arms touching so sweetly. It reminds me a little bit of thumbelina and that feeling I would get looking at illustrations of that story – the animals being so big that it might be scary but mostly they were kind. You do amazing sculptural things with your cloth.
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Dear Grace–a poem
I Happened To Be Standing
by Mary Oliver
I don’t know where prayers go,
or what they do.
Do cats pray, while they sleep
half-asleep in the sun?
Does the opossum pray as it
crosses the street?
The sunflowers? The old black oak
growing older every year?
I know I can walk through the world,
along the shore or under the trees,
with my mind filled with things
of little importance, in full
self-attendance. A condition I can’t really
call being alive.
Is a prayer a gift, or a petition,
or does it matter?
The sunflowers blaze, maybe that’s their way.
Maybe the cats are sound asleep. Maybe not.
While I was thinking this I happened to be standing
just outside my door, with my notebook open,
which is the way I begin every morning.
Then a wren in the privet began to sing.
He was positively drenched in enthusiasm,
I don’t know why. And yet, why not.
I wouldn’t persuade you from whatever you believe
or whatever you don’t. That’s your business.
But I thought, of the wren’s singing, what could this be
if it isn’t a prayer?
So I just listened, my pen in the air.
from A Thousand Mornings. © The Penguin Press, 2012.LikeLike
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not sure, reminds me of something. a fairy tale? some old indian miniature, something from the past.
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something from the past. i like that.
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no. not wind. and i have thought as i stitch about
how i could say what it is, and nothing yet is It.
but it’s the “atmospheric” thing, that we call sky, that
is really more, both scientifically and spiritually
what is in response when these vibrations take form that
i stitched today…LikeLike
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yes…sky, energy, wind…Moves across and around the
Planet endlessly
i am always glad. glad about breathing quieting….
i hope your snow melted into the EarthLikeLike
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i know…smile….i listened to you
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refuge. yes.
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maybe that’s what Jude is remembering….the thumbelina
story?
i am loving working with the dimensional pieces…learning
how to do that so it works and allows the rest to remain
as is….learning…..LikeLike
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thank you for putting this. yes. i know this well…
when i remember it. but i had forgotten, as i do, and
you brought it back.
Thank YouLikeLike
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it’s the end of this day…Wednesday…now, and i have
come back to read this again.
she is so able to go into a single moment…see it for
what ALL it is….LikeLike

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