finding my way there

 

i opened the carefully pleated rectangle of foil to reveal the ooze of red and cherries and flattened crust. i ate it with no ceremony standing at the counter, scraping the foil with my fork to get the last smear of ooze. it was leftover heaven on a warm and windy late fall day; a day more suited to october than the cusp of december.

everything means something to me and the meaning is more than likely tinged with the ethereal. i think of this late warmth, a gift for the northern dweller, and equate it with the opportunity to do just a little bit more before the hibernation begins. and the more for me takes the form of noticing instincts and natural urges, of seeing the old doorways and not-empty bell towers of dreams i've been too timid to embrace. those dreams are demanding attention in this 56 degree wind, begging to be blown open and set in firm soil like necessary seeds of spring.

full of leftover pie and rusted keys in my hand, i step into the wind and search for the door, ethereal bells ringing with each gust. these old dreams are of home and all that it means and of never yet finding my way there.

but i want to be there and set my other dreams down there and feel what it is, live deep what it is to be unshakably and forever at home.

the way of things

the way of things came to my window. and i looked in its eyes, living and dead. the red tail hawk, announced by blue jays,was  level with me on its perch. messenger of life-purpose and fruition, it arrived to confirm just that, and it stayed longer than i could have hoped.

looking to the grass below the tree, i saw why i was afforded such grace. a squirrel. likely the one i had seen out the back window, now dead out the front. the hawk never found safe passage to the lawn to claim its meal. spooked, it flew across the way to the tallest pine. i waited, curtains pulled back, but the bustle on the road forfeited the prize. i carried the prize by its tail, limp body bobbing to the rhythm of my walk, and laid it under the pine. come dark, the owl will be hungry.

back to the window and in pulled the truck of the man who lives below. she was gutted and dead in its bed. i went to look at her eye. it took only 10 yards for her to drop, he said. unlike the 2 bucks that did not drop and left blood trails to no where. i did not mask my wince and my whine, but refrained from unfavorable comment. i threw prayers up to the sky for the one in the bed and the 2 that leaked blood through the leaves. i could feel her fear and anguish rise from her body and crawl over my skin.

i went back up to the window, as this is the way of things.

golden moments

there are golden moments on the fringe of the turning point~

they are subtle and easily overlooked in the frenzy

and anticipation of the great, next happening,

the great, next way of being.

if you stop and look, you can sense the last

 messages of the season your soul is moving through.

you can feel the forecast of things to come,

and you can understand the beauty
and necessity of what has been.

it has all been beautiful and necessary.

in the golden moments, brief and full,

gratitude can plum its depths and 

soften the next season to come.

simpler times

let these be simpler times.

let the heart spin with the clockwise tide.

let the ground be firm and nourishing.

like the bones of the trees revealed,

soul is dancing forward,

fresh and formed in the waning light;

a silhouette of possibility.

like the leaf mush begging for snow

to bury what has been,

 molecular magic will break life down

to the essential and the good.

in these, the simpler times.

fullness in nothingness

i don't know what is happening. excess and waste are appalling me. i crave simplicity and clean lines. clear understanding. fullness in nothingness. my words are sparse. long essays, gone.

i have bought nothing. nothing but food and four dollar magazines. gasoline. herbal supplements. allergy sensitive cat food. rose petal tea. just the bare basics.

i don't know what is happening. i want to, need to be outside. all the time. i stand on the loading dock at lunch time with the smokers just to feel the sun on my face. i wear hiking boots everyday; fashion is out the window. except scarves. i wear scarves. they are my uniform. i don't know if they are in fashion. it doesn't matter. if they don't look good with hiking boots it doesn't matter.

birds and horses and cats and moving water. and taking photographs. hundreds and hundreds of photographs. in a week. like a crazy person. but i am not. these are the obsessions that rise as simplicity informs my days. no, demands my days. i don't know what is happening.

yet.

the less i have, want, get~ the more of me i find. in the fullness of nothingness.

i remember what is true

in the season of harvest and waning

i have come alive.

i remember the richness and roots of my soul.

i remember what is true.

there is pungent earth~

leaf mold, cooling soil and the

indescribable smell of flowing creek.

it is firm.

it is under my feet, grounding.

i begin again before the end.

Wildness

Truth. Clarity. Joy. Wildness.

My wish for me.

Let it be.

{Harris Hawk. October, 2011}

52 Photos Project~ November 2nd

The beauty of fall flowers,

from first stage to last.

Nature is my treat.

{For Bella}

And thank you, Bella, for featuring me

this week on your Just 1 Picture project.

All Hallow's Eve

Nothing says scary like lamb costumes for grown women.

May the spirits be with you.

leaf and stone

it was a peaceful morning walking with the dead.

i can see them from my window.

  today, in the soft october light they beckoned.

mighty yellow leaves and the blue sky of dreams

sheltered and lit their sorrows.

there must have been sorrows.

ruth, wife of henry, you left days before 49.

grace and arthur~

you barely skimmed the surface;

do you remember this earth?

and fannie.

you came and went in 17 months.

your sister after you in 34 months.

your brother after her in 16 months.

how did your mother survive?

but, fannie, that was 146 years ago.

i hope you came again and lived a full life.

i hope you walked with yellow leaves and stone.

i hope you found out for yourself

that amid the small tragedies of living 

the blue sky of dreams is shelter and wildness at once.

52 Photos Project~ October 26th

The Octagon House here in Mayberry

...Because there are always many sides to a story.

"Look Up"~ for Bella

come to the edge

going beyond the barriers to get the good view.

water and trees. my favorite.

i can almost see them

doors close, one upon another.

there is no going back.

i don't want to.

time will tell if it was wasted.

or if simply more character needed to be built.

i will not see you and you and you again.

but, thank you.

i await the windows.

pain forming panes that fly open,

sunshine and glory streaming through.

answers. freedom. purpose. life.

the little birds are leaving.

the owls will come.

i can almost see them.

52 Photos Project~ October 19th

Autumn colors, Western New York

~ for Bella

The Soul In Bloom is on sale!

25% off until October 31st.

wind and water

safe in the roots of the sitting tree,

i sat with wind at the edge of water.

there was shifting and change.

it was cold.

do not be uneasy with the changes,

said the sitting tree to me.

if everything were to leave you,

if you feel you are alone

and cast off,

you are not.

you are safe in the winds and

the turbulent waters,

for your anchor, your roots 

lie not outside,

they begin and end in your soul.

The Soul In Bloom~ gratitude

page 45

The Soul In Bloom is on sale!!
25% off October 17th through the 31st!

"I've been savoring my copy of soul in bloom ~

Graciel, honestly... it is just gorgeous.

The quality, the photos, the intimate words.

I love it - and I thought you should know

that I think you've created something magical."

Bella

"Your magazine moved me to tears - and I don't cry very much."

Emmy

"My mom asked me to thank you for the magazine,
she absolutely loves it!"

Kelly

Thank you to the many dear souls who have taken a chance on

my 3rd issue of The Soul In Bloom.
Thank you for the generous praise.

Thank you for sharing this issue with your friends and family.

You have all made my heart immensely full.

And you give me strength to do more.

To purchase a copy of the Autumn, Summer or Spring issues of

The Soul In Bloom, go HERE to sign up.

Should you have any difficulties in the signing up process

(it can happen, ask my Mom), send me an email at

evenstarart@gmail.com and we'll figure out how to get a copy to your door.

Art in the Yellow Woods

the real art, the yellow art,

was not made by the hands of man.

Ready Or Not

I remember the time I knew everything. It was such a short time, that brief blip in history, when I understood and I could explain. But then age advanced; more chemicals laced my hair, collagen began collapsing and people I knew started dying. It was when the dying began that I understood I knew practically nothing at all.

Today, I learn of the passing of a good, good man. He celebrated his 54th birthday and died, unexpectedly, the very next day. Platitudes masked as well meaning wisdom haven't a place in this scene. In fact, there is nothing to say. The wisdom, if there is any, lies in the honoring of emotions and a deep and abiding inventory of what there is to be grateful for. There is also the vow to use whatever wisdom I think I may have to get on with it. To unfurl. To bloom as big as I can, ready or not.

The Obession Continues, part 2

blue ribbon farms percherons

I am afraid of horses. And I am mesmerized by the largest of their kind. I cannot explain this sudden desire, this need, to be near them, to learn what this wagon-hitch business is about.

Lisa and me, we are bitten and smitten. We are willing to travel to get the next fix. So we went one state east and found joy unimaginable in the ring.  Then after, finding the barns, (the barns!) and melting into the background watching, watching the dismantling of giants.

Somewhere in the tangle of hoof and wheel and harness is the message of power. Of companionship. Of teamwork. Of happiness that cannot be explained, and yet must be followed unblinking. It is the message of new worlds to be explored and reverence, sweet reverence for the pull of the natural world.

The Obession Continues, part 1

belgians

percherons

10 teams x 6~ wouldn't fit in the frame...

18 teams of 6 draft horses each competing

for the $30,000 first prize at the

Eastern States Exposition

in Springfield, Massachusetts,

October, 2011.

52 Photos Project~ October 5th

Spinning Circles~ for Bella

bringing happy back

in which the tears are exchanged for 2 ton beasts,
bejeweled and bejangled,

bringing the house down with hoof-stomping majesty.

nothing beats a big horse for bringing happy back.

naturally, there will be pictures.

Bait and Shoot

mother bear~ Lily

Hope as a cub in 2010

Hope and baby bear sister, Faith~ July 2011

Lily the black bear, of Ely, Minnesota, has been a facebook sensation since January of 2010 when she gave birth to a single female cub. The cub was named Hope, and along with Lily, she became a part of the North American Bear Center's scientific research. Lily and Hope had a camera placed in the entrance to their den until they emerged from hibernation in the spring of 2010. 24 hour viewing and daily facebook page updates on how they were doing made them beloved by thousands...over 132,000 on facebook alone. Incredible amounts of information about the gentle nature of black bears was gleaned.

Winter 2011 found Hope denning once again with her mother, Lily. A den camera was in place to observe Lily giving birth to twin cubs and the subsequent family relations between mother bear, juvenile and new cubs. It was awe inspiring. Elementary schools around America followed the adventures of the 4 black bears, learning about wildlife in a manner previously unavailable. The male cub died, but the female cub, Faith, survived and thrived. Lily and her girls have been teaching a great number of us that the ferocious black bear stereotype is false; that they are gentle, shy creatures with strong family bonds.

Along with my friend, Lisa, I have been watching the winter den cameras, checking the spring, summer and fall videos of the bears and reading the daily updates on facebook. We have the Lily and Hope t-shirts and mugs to prove it. Silly or not, these bears have become a part of our lives.

It was confirmed today that Hope was baited and shot on September 16th by a hunter who set up his bait station in Lily's territory, knowing it was her territory, knowing her family's popularity and importance to scientific research. Hope is dead. And she will be eaten.

I am angry and I am crying.

{Bear photos are from www.bear.org.}

 On September 28th, an update from the facebook page for Lily The Black Bear read:

Lily did something during the night that moved us to tears.  She went on a tear, moving miles in such a short time that she must have been running most of the time.  She covered much of her territory and beyond before returning to her starting place where she probably had left Faith.  We have never seen anything like this before.  The only explanation we can think of is the obvious one, given recent circumstances.  What must be going through her mind?  We wish we had been there to see it in person—to see if she was grunting and tongue-clicking as mothers do when they look for lost cubs.  Lily had spent an unusually long time mothering Hope.  Was this a last search before she gives up and settles into a den?  Although we questioned whether the GPS locations were possible, they followed in a line that was not erratic. 

52 Photos Project~ September 21st

RED for Bella's 52 Photo's project

BLUE

GREEN

ORANGE

Open your heart to Nature and color comes flooding in.

Red is for Bella.

The Autumn issue of The Soul In Bloom is here!

Have you ordered your copy yet?

The Soul In Bloom~ autumn issue

autumn issue cover

behind the scenes

with mr. inquisitive

edited out at the last minute

 This is the issue that gives me the strength to self promote. This issue is for people, especially women, who are on a soul-changing journey through illness, cancer or levels of despair. It is also for the people who love them. As I am finding out myself, to assist another in transcending illness, hopefully back to health, or to the threshold of death's door is a sacred task and a journey all its own. Illness of any kind is a group effort in need of support. This issue, wrapped in the splendor of autumn and comforting words, is my wish and my gift of support for any and all who might need it.

I finished the bulk of the editing and organizing of this magazine just over 3 weeks ago at the kitchen table of my Aunt. She was in her last stages of ovarian cancer.We spent the day together in what turned out to be one of her last days of conversation. We were frank and unafraid. I was irrevocably changed. She died one week later at hospice. This issue is dedicated to her and my Uncle. The local hospice, for their care, will receive copies of this issue as my thank you, with hopes it might give some one comfort.

This issue is about courage and change and healing and death and life. All of it is life. All of it sacred and beautiful. And in the end,  there is no ending, for love goes on and on.

To purchase a copy of The Soul In Bloom~ autumn issue for yourself or someone in need of support, go HERE. Simply create an account at Magcloud.com. Payment is with credit card or Paypal.