tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35143803697888154982011-12-07T13:27:05.866-05:00Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.comBlogger721100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-51648841934579663282011-12-06T19:23:00.001-05:002011-12-06T19:27:58.654-05:00

  To my fellow KMCC trainees as we embark upon life's voyage. Laugh and live. Be the one who lives like a lion with the sweetness of a lamb.

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Something about these words from Rumi resonate with my spirit. I didn’t know love would make me this crazy, with my eyes like the river Ceyhun carrying me in its rapids out to sea, where every bit of shattered boat sinks to the bottom. An alligator lifts its head and swallows the ocean, then the ocean floor becomes a desert covering the alligator in sand drifts. Changes do happen.  I

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I'm reading Thomas Moore's book, Care of the Soul, as I continue to walk through my spiritual journey. Last night these words caught my attention: "The sacred teaching story, which has the potential of deepening the mystery of our own identity, instead is used defensively in fundamentalism, to spare us the anxiety of being an individual with choice, responsibility, and a continually changing

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Receiving. That's hard for me. To accept a gift with grace and even celebrate its arrival is part of the circle of generosity.Tonight, I visited a church called Radius. Part of me went with fear and trembling. Old emotions surfacing when confronted with church. But even as my heart was beating, I felt myself drawn into the worship. Something that hasn't happened for me in years. People stood, sat

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I love to paint with my hands. Fingers. Fist. Knuckles. Palms. Nails. Thumbs. Fingertips. Big sweeping motions. Small delicate strokes. Pitter-Pattery dancing dots. Strong intense pounding. Scratching through to the undercoat. Rhythmic knocking.Put on the music, let the world spin on its axis. No one can touch me in that place. That place where my heart touches the paper through my skin.

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This skirt from Anthropologie was my inspiration for today's upcycled skirt. I love the rolled hem combined with a classic pencil skirt. My version of Anthropologie's skirt. I used an old pair of pants, cut them down to size. I sewed about a 2.5 inch hem and played with the fabric, separating it, rolling it and pinning it in place. I stitched the creases, folds and rolls in place. A new skirt,

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My fingernails are 10 different colors.I prefer salad to be cooked.My house is covered with clothes from Goodwill that I am redesigning.I like my chocolate dark.I forgot to put stamps on my outgoing mail today, so the postman kindly left them in the box.I am addicted to good coffee!Tell me a random fact about yourself.

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This little dress is a gift for my niece. But it has a fun story with it.Once upon a time, there was an unloved dress. It used to have a home and be a little girl's favorite dress until one day she caught it on a nail and ripped it. Mom donated the dress to a thrift store. The dress was excited to see who her new owner would be. But day after day, she hung on the rack. No one seemed interested

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Today, I spent hours answering questions and working to define what I like and who I am. I picked up Carrie and Danielle's book Style Statement at the local library and was intrigued by the questions, words and beautiful people featured in the pages. It felt like the right thing to work through at this stage in my life. So many days, I wake up and wonder: who am I? Am I doing what matters most to

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Starting new projects is easy for me. Finishing them is another story!A few weeks ago, I started creating prayer flags for my yard. I painted the colors and then they sat for a week. This time, with this project, I challenged myself to finish. The imagery came easily: waves, bird, fire, tree, sun and moon. No words. I wanted broad meanings, very humble icons.And they are finished!

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-24741497491932263342010-04-04T20:27:00.002-04:002010-04-04T20:39:37.872-04:00

I loved driving with the windows down, hair blowing in my face and the sun setting behind me. The perfect ending to a beautiful day! I spent last night at KC and Jerry's house. Enjoyed good family time. Riley slept with me last night and I was woken with a kiss and coffee this morning.After KC and Jerry left for church, I continued painting a commission and somewhat watched The Lion, the Witch

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-27860993404655783122010-03-25T21:30:00.000-04:002010-03-25T21:30:47.561-04:00

"The power of the word is real whether or not you are conscious of it. Your own words are the bricks and mortar of the dreams you want to realize. Behind every word flows energy." Sonia Choquette

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I hit bumps in life from time to time when I feel unsettled. As though there's more life I should be living. I question where I am and what I'm doing. Is it enough? Is it right? There's a competitiveness that causes me to compare and assume that because someone else has reached a new chapter in their life, I should too. And then I begin to doubt myself and how I am caring for me. Should I do more

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These words danced through my mind as I free wrote this afternoon. Enjoy.Pink flowers sparkle freely as they dance in the breeze.Songs whisper their melody to strangers in a crowd.Sand sprinkles time around our feet.Laughter chimes the hours.Ink etches the story of our lives.

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Have you ever had a crazy week? Not crazy as though you alone are responsible for turning the world, but crazy like you haven't got a care in the world. Really, I did have a lot of things to be busy with and concerned with this week, but no one informed my brain.So, on Monday I cut myself shaving at the gym and bled for 45 minutes while I finished getting ready. The gym had run out of bandaids.

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-27048942828981614482010-02-28T19:41:00.002-05:002010-02-28T19:54:22.674-05:00

Some days are just rough. Friday was like that for me. It was a back to back day with teaching. Teachers came early to drop their students off and picked them up late. After school, I had to quickly change on get on the road for a workshop in Asheville at 6:00. By 3:30, I was happily driving - when all the forces of nature began conspiring against me or so it seemed.1. Starbucks' drive-thru took

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I was ripped.Torn and gouged.They were trying to remove the essence of my being.Not out of malice.Out of fear.

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"most of us come to the church by a means the church does not allow." Flannery O'ConnerI must say that I have tried to come to the church by the only means they do allow. I have been saved and baptized. I have repented, prayed, done a multitude of good deeds, read my Bible, given my tithe, worked in church settings, gone to the mission field. And at the end of the day, the church still threw me

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Fears I have as I begin to flesh out my belief and understanding of God.1. That I will turn a corner in this discovery and find that God was waiting for me to figure out that I really was supposed to be checking all those boxes and keeping all the rules. He expects me to repent and do penance to appease his anger.2. Coming from a place of God as a black and white deity, I am afraid to step out

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I picked up Julia Cameron's book Faith and Will this past weekend. I can hardly get through a paragraph without feeling like she's inside my soul writing about the landscape there and providing hope. I want to share two short paragraphs from this morning's reading."Very often when we think about what we would like to have happen in our lives, we cast ourselves very far forward and out of the day

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I want dreadlocks. They seem cool, artsy and out there. I think they might be an easier way to take care of my curls. And then last week, I highlighted my hair with pink. Bright pink. It felt odd to catch a glimpse of myself in mirrors. A few peopled looked at me for a second too long. And I wondered if it looked like I had gotten drunk on New Year's and ended up with pink hair. I dyed it back.

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-81354833621433982242010-01-01T19:03:00.004-05:002010-01-01T21:28:52.837-05:00

When my students tell me they think their artwork is ugly, I usually respond that most art goes through an ugly stage before the beauty appears. Keep working. I need to add that shortcuts tend to skip over beauty. They want to be pragmatic - take the shortest path possible from assignment to completion. I understand. I am like this, too. I just want to solve the dilemma so life can be smooth

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-8426629497184477022009-12-14T20:35:00.005-05:002009-12-14T20:53:34.712-05:00

Glitter.Snowflakes.Tinsel.Big lights.Paper chains.Sugar cookies.

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-18275167913463166102009-12-08T19:34:00.002-05:002009-12-08T19:38:40.014-05:00

I get frustrated with myself for following rabbit trails and wasting time. I am wired to be easily distracted by new things to look at or a different vein of creativity. So this afternoon, when I could have gone straight to the gym, I spent two hours looking at houses online. Do I plan to buy a house anytime soon? Nope. Am I getting kicked out of my house? Nope. But houses and floorplans make me

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Where does it come from? Sometimes I like to cozy up to it, curl my fingers into it's shaggy fur and listen to the patter of raindrops. Other times, I'd rather shove it aside without an answer. How to make peace with it. How to live with its questions. How to celebrate its beauty. How to laugh in the middle of a rainstorm.

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I picked up Yancey's book Church: Why bother? His story closely resembles my own. He began in fundamentalist christianity, but as an adult struggled with God. I would be happy to throw in the towel on the church, but I haven't been able to. There is still a draw for me. Not because I believe it makes me a better person. Not because someone told me I needed to be there. Somewhere in the midst of

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He's holding out his hand.Steady. Strong.I'm shivering on the shore.Questioning.And today I stepped out. There is more life to be lived. I am done glancing back."Last night, as I was sleeping,I dreamt-marvellous error!-that I had a beehivehere inside my heart.And the golden beeswere making white combsand sweet honeyfrom my old failures."Antonio Machado

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How do you say good-bye?I offer blessings for a sweet life.Truly, I wish you the best.But you and I cannot continue.I've said good-bye.And you?

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-83363226299380910122009-09-22T20:29:00.002-04:002009-09-22T20:43:37.269-04:00

I've been cutting out one inch squares from magazines. My goal is to paint the same image as a much larger square. It's challenging to find a good composition that's part of a larger picture. To help me, I've cut a frame with a one inch opening. I can slide it over a photo until the design is just right, trace it off with a pencil and cut it out.If I look at my life through a one inch frame, I

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I've missed this blog. Tried to create a new one, but it lacked the presence and history of this one. The layout annoyed me and for the life of me, I couldn't seem to get the login correct! So, here I am.Been thinking the last couple of days about adventure. Donald Miller's new book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years is meshing well with this place I am in life. I wonder what my life is about?

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What makes pumpkins rot?Why do kids want to touch everything?How can a spider hang upside down from my ceiling?Where do fruit flies come from?How do I get paint on me and I wasn't even painting?What makes a sweet potato sprout?Where does stubbornness come from?How do you laugh it off?

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As I walked through the last two years, I have experienced many things I was taught could be healed through repentance and a greater devotion to God. For example, depression is a sin issue. You are thinking too much about yourself. Confess and get busy serving. And of course, panic attacks are a sign that worry has built a stronghold in your heart. Confess it and memorize a few verses. Prior to

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There's something about putting my fears out there that shrinks them down somewhat. My studio is clean - or rather cleaner/neater than it was. I began cutting apart old sweaters and sewing the scraps together. I actually am liking the crazy quilt pattern more than I thought I would. Last night, I fell asleep dreaming of ways to incorporate this piece into a twin size quilt. How would I back it?

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Cleaning up my studio intimidates me today - well, every day. It's full of stagnant work. What do I do with it? Toss it? Pile it for later? Tear out the parts I like? And then there's the issue of bugs. Several months back, my home was inumdated with spiders and roaches of various sizes, shapes and colors. I've sprayed and have been quite comfortable inhabiting the rest of the rooms in the house.

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My creativity tank has been sitting on empty for the past couple of months. I have excused myself from the world of art due to the excessive strain placed on my creativity by teaching 630 art students each week. Excuses, excuses! No more. Time to move along, Cassidy.My Art "to do" list:1. Clean up the studio2. Use the raw wool to make a hat.3. Sew sweater blanket.4. Continue with art journal.5.

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I visited church today. We (KC, Jerry and I) have been planning to do this for the last several weeks. It's time to meet new people.Everything was fine - until we pulled in the parking lot. At that point, I pulled up my walls and ducked deep inside myself. Thoughts rolled around like: "too many people," "I don't know any of these people," "everyone's SO young."Off we went. People said hi. They

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I'm still getting used to the idea that most people are able to extend grace because they have been given grace. Yesterday, my sister showed up at my house in tears, hurting. Blistered by the tediousness of life and the salt of unkindness rubbed into the wound. The people surrounding her for the next nine months live in a paradigm of law. The system bends for no one. People forget how to extend

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So, I've been thinking about this thing called relationship. How do you find them? Not necessarily the dating kind, just a friend. It almost seems as though I need to join a club of some sort to have an automatic "in" with a group of people. But then that doesn't automatically create relationship either. Consider church: similar to a club, group of people with common interests, participating in

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I went furniture shopping the other day. Four stores in a two hour time block. I know exactly what I'm looking for, the problem is that my friends can't remember the where they bought the sofa they gave me. The sofa I want an exact replica of. Creamy white, curved, overstuffed sectional. Not too big, not too small, just right, only the fabric is beginning to desintigrate after years of loving.All

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Sometimes life moves so quickly that I loose sight of the real me. The one inside, buried under the busyness. There was a time in the not to distant past that I was wading through pools of hurt. These days, I am mostly content and happy to be where I am doing what I'm doing enjoying the people around me. I want my heart to be strong and open. No walls, just a place where transactions of love are

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"Hi, My name's Miss Ridley. What's yours?""Quada'sha.""Heaven.""Jesus.""Greisly.""Who's your teacher?"A shrug of the shoulder."Uh,....""I don't know.""Hi, What student are you picking up? What grade?""Jailene Pamela Rosales.""What grade?"A shake of the head and then three fingers held up."Is this one person or two?"More sign language and then "one girl."And I'm off to find her classroom in a

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Last Christmas I put together a collage of images and phrases depicting the direction I wanted to grow. I posted it above my bed, reading it nightly. The theme seemed to be living in my own skin. Respecting my voice. Celebrating the person that I am and am becoming. These words and images seeped deep into my being, infusing me with courage.A few weeks ago, I realized that I had outgrown those

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I am learning that in order to truly feel loved and accepted for who I am, I must trust the other person enough to be vulnerable with them. It's so much easier to tack on the latest paper doll dress and hide. "Maybe she will like me if I wear yellow." But if I walk forward exposing my brokenness, trusting her with it, I am also allowing her to leave her mask behind.

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The wasteland of shoes.Jumbled, Tumbled and Lost.

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Sketching. Painting. Honoring my body.There is joy in picking up the brush to caress the canvas.I do not hold myself to a standard of perfectionism.Bad art is allowed. The good comes through the bad.I am struggling with being motivated to do anything. Or maybe I should say, I love futzing on the computer, reading, watching Oprah, dreaming, and watering my plants. This summer has been good for me.

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-35136355643002997792008-07-17T16:47:00.002-04:002008-07-17T16:51:29.914-04:00

I've felt it blowing through my spirit the last few days.It shows up in an inconsolable itch to change something in my life.Nothing is wrong with my job, my car, my house, etc.It's just an itch to check out my options.Eventually it subsides.I am happy.Maybe a tad bored.So summer projects are beginning to get done.

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-36318395765064007752008-07-14T08:36:00.004-04:002008-12-13T10:13:31.280-05:00

It takes time and work to move through abuse. Even spiritual abuse.I come to the place where I can acknowledge the abuse.Hurt over it. Be angry. Talk about it.Those steps repeat themselves until one day I find that I've moved a little bit.Some small piece of me has begun to heal.I realized this the other day when I answered the following questions:1. How do I view God?Open, Loving, Safe2. How do

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-40711440978893933962008-07-11T13:54:00.003-04:002008-12-13T10:13:32.862-05:00

Some dates are etched deeply across my heart.July 13, 2001 is one of those days.My painting, Storms, came five years later.Justin was working at the Wilds Christian Camp for his third summer. That morning he climbed a tree in the guys cabin area to begin taking it down. All the branches had been taken off and Justin was within 30 seconds of coming down out of the tree when the trunk snapped.

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-19686279950845900142008-07-10T15:35:00.004-04:002008-12-13T10:13:33.351-05:00

There are many parts of me.The Yin and the Yang.The naughty and nice.As I continue to search out who I am, I am becoming more comfortable with allowing you to see who I really am.Safety and familiarity is important to me.Unique things resonate deeply within my spirit.I have a hard time speaking my truth for the first time.I am quick to adopt other's quirks, hoping they will like me.Today, I own

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-20100313376682300362008-06-06T15:53:00.004-04:002008-12-13T10:13:34.051-05:00

I struggle to accept my body - well, not all of my body - just the parts I dislike. My body is the part of me I cannot take off. It is assigned to me. I didn't even get to choose what I wanted to struggle with......I used to hate my arms. They were wide and thick - now, thanks to lifting weights with a friend, they are firm and considerably smaller.I dislike my belly. It grows - pooches - expands

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-79141885328096876752008-05-27T20:16:00.002-04:002008-05-27T20:42:54.029-04:00

The long and the short of it is that I came back to teach at BJU after four years away. Parts of the story felt miraculous. I was quite sure God was at work, opening doors. I signed on to become a graduate assistant and then the position at the BJA opened up. Come August, 2002, I found myself living in Greenville, SC, with a faculty sticker on my car. How ironic! I couldn't be a graduate

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-46099003187455572912008-05-24T18:11:00.006-04:002008-12-13T10:13:34.574-05:00

New plants along the edge of my collapsing storage barn. All I need now is a red bicycle to lean against the barn.Foxgloves growing next to my screen porch. A round bumble bee is almost always bouncing in and out of the bell-shaped flower.Pots of Herbs. Purple basil, rosemary and thyme create a wonderful scent in my backyard.A day spent in my yard, weeding, mowing and pruning helps restore a

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-46944329915265600602008-05-23T17:57:00.006-04:002008-12-13T10:13:35.038-05:00

KC was tired the other night. Actually, I was too, but I found that I felt more alive drawing her than I had felt all day. Grabbing a tuscan red prismacolor pencil and sketching her for 25 minutes, filled me. One of my summer goals is to spend more time drawing people. And time drawing other things, too, but people are my focus. In art school, I learned little to nothing about figure drawing.

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-76631528368771796352008-05-17T15:00:00.006-04:002008-05-17T19:14:26.409-04:00

As I walk through the hallways of my memory, I want to pause. Breathe.I write my story as part of my healing from christian fundamentalism. For me, these entries are times to sit down on the side of the road for a rest, take off my backpack, sort through the contents and check my map. Thank you for reading and leaving me your comments. I enjoy the company.Returning to my story, after I graduated

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-52507257373193379742008-05-14T06:37:00.011-04:002008-05-14T12:08:25.582-04:00

How did I come to the decision to leave Bob Jones University's employment and ultimately Christian fundamentalism? I guess the answer starts with how I came to BJU and even before that with the small drama surrounding my graduation from BJU.I was raised to attend BJU - there was none of the normal shopping around for the school that best fit the next step in life. My freshman year was paid for by

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-81740702526368176722008-05-10T20:30:00.004-04:002008-05-10T21:15:02.833-04:00

You know, I thought when my last day of employment at Bob Jones University arrived, that I would automatically rebound from my state of depression. All the stress would magically float away and I would return to my happy self. I look back to that time and recognize that I was ignorant of all that lay ahead. The last week of work, my friends and I celebrated in little ways every day. A fun

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-11902627470797468412008-05-08T18:47:00.003-04:002008-05-10T21:16:55.787-04:00

So, I'm slightly fuzzy from a glass of wine. I feels really good after a full day of teaching. And I'm remembering.......... One year ago, I had just finished my last day of teaching at Bob Jones Academy. I was in the midst of depression, living at my friend's house for accountability. Most nights I slept 4 hours at the most. My heart would race. I couldn't breathe. And sleep escaped me. It was a

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-69961800562440761162008-05-04T20:45:00.001-04:002008-05-04T20:47:52.553-04:00

ochre.timbre.dwelling throughout time.speckled.laughter.reinventing broken things.jasmine.chimes.tangled lengths of chord.dominoes.pelican.swelling.crescendo.Amen.

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-90186589525219385722008-05-03T21:41:00.004-04:002008-12-13T10:13:36.060-05:00

I've been working on my altered Bible. The New Testament has been turned into drawers containing traditional illustrations of Christ. My first entry carries the title "Attractive." The artwork was created over the Genesis story of Rachel, Leah and Jacob, where Rachel is noted as beautiful and well favored. What makes a girl attractive? Is it fashionable clothes? A great smile? The perfect

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-84409752291454225082008-04-27T12:00:00.001-04:002008-04-26T23:14:16.825-04:00

I love the rolling stool in my studio. My uncle used it in his practice as both a country doctor and a surgeon in Southern Alabama. The metal legs are rusting and the gray vinyl is cracking, but it remains my favorite seat.My great aunt gave me her great aunt's easel. I wonder what paintings it has held through the years. Today, it's holding a Candy Land board awaiting repurposing as art.There's

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-28813214727797204922008-04-26T09:45:00.004-04:002008-12-13T10:13:36.348-05:00

Wool blankets made out of old weaters. Tree branches hanging in front of the window. Strong coffee tempered with cream. Old journal holding my thoughts. Wine corks filling a glass jar. Bird chorus seranading a new morning. Antique mason jars displaying pencils, rose petals, black sand and a beta fish. Deep cleansing breaths. A day with nothing pressing.

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-48684243678526226092008-04-23T11:53:00.003-04:002008-04-23T12:02:13.169-04:00

1. Yesterday, I was getting ready to leave in the morning when I noticed that there was a hole in my skirt....exposing my butt to the world.2. Again, yesterday, I got lost on the way to a meeting across town. I was 10 minutes late and the presenter had all the handouts down front - in a room of 250 people.3. I cut my grass for the first time this year and got blisters on my hands.4. I won a bid

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-15021704406925801212008-04-20T10:09:00.003-04:002008-04-20T10:23:54.937-04:00

He walked away from all he knew because he believed there was more to life.One person had reached out to him, giving hope.Stepping out and met with grace.He heard the music and followed it.I, too, know what it's like to be in that fragile place.One person extended a hand to me.Grace has dogged my steps.I am learning to hear the music of my own heart.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-5ab6RtA-KE&

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-24489089655555545432008-04-16T19:19:00.004-04:002008-05-04T20:52:47.136-04:00

Words.Barrage.Spew.Angry, hurtful, pain.Words.Open.Transparent.Vulnerable, risky, trusting.Words.Kind.Gracious.Soothing, tender, healing.Words.Truth.Love.Pain, vulnerable, healing.

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-14331807781694981772008-04-15T10:04:00.004-04:002008-04-15T10:10:28.552-04:00

My life could be summed up with the phrase: "Right is always right and wrong is always wrong." Admitting my humanity was only to acknowledge the times I acted in my flesh, ie. sinned. I was a spiritual person, trapped in a body of flesh. There was a dichotomy of flesh versus spirit. I was to continually kill anything associated with the flesh: any desire I had whether it was physical or emotional

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-72169639310187658022008-04-12T18:28:00.004-04:002008-12-13T10:13:36.644-05:00

So, I've decided to begin an altered book. I am going to use one of my old bibles - a King James, leatherbound bible to be specific. I've been mulling over what the subject could be and this morning I decided. It will be about 20 or so pages, each page dedicated to one of the following words that I desire to see expressed in my life: Creativity, Joy, Friendship, Competence, Peace of Mind,

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-25850443733701184132008-04-07T13:48:00.005-04:002008-12-13T10:13:36.867-05:00

Writing to reclaim the broken places in my life.There are hurt places in my heart - rooms that have been vacuum sealed.One day these chambers will be ready to open - I will delve into them as they give me permission.I will feel the pain, hurt and joy locked behind them.Anger that attacks.Tears that cleanse.Comforting silence.My story is valid.It is where I've walked and I will own it.All of it.

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-83274110960579830672008-04-06T19:41:00.015-04:002008-12-13T10:13:37.389-05:00

I recently purchased Writing as a Way of Healing, by Louise DeSalvo, as part of my journey through my past. I plan on posting an occasional assignment. The image above is the original journal entry of the first assignment.I feel guilty that I want to sit and do nothing. Not always - just some nights it is more comfortable to stare into space than it is to come up with something to do - even

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-25136759352873230042008-04-05T10:39:00.004-04:002008-12-13T10:13:38.028-05:00

Saturday morning. Somewhat sleepy. White sofa. Misty fog. Fresh green. Hot coffee. Egg casserole. Visiting memories. Filling up. Stop.Eyes closed.Deep breath.Contented smile.

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-36645410422928497732008-04-03T13:38:00.008-04:002008-12-13T10:13:38.293-05:00

Melancholy.Is it just the rain?Cloudy, overcast.This emotion is deeper, broader, fuller than sadness. There is a descant floating along above the low harmonies resonating in my spirit.My house is cozy. I love the solitude. There's artwork scattered around in various stages of completion. Creativity only partially finished.Melancholy. It's a beautiful place to be. I am content with this quiet.

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-56606132793703799062008-04-02T11:57:00.006-04:002008-12-13T10:13:38.500-05:00

Have you ever tried to eat an apple so big that you can barely take a bite? It rubs your nose and stretches your jaw. Then skin gets caught in your teeth. The apple I am eating probably satisfies all the daily recommended fruit allowances in one neat bundle. Juice is now sticking to my nose and dripping off my chin. It takes two sessions to eat it.

Yellow bobby pinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13071124671701422883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3514380369788815498.post-51952887172236614252008-04-01T20:54:00.002-04:002008-12-13T10:13:38.740-05:00

Left hand side. Who wins? Tomorrow's trees. Angel's wings. Song of freedom. Nodding heads. What for? Sarah said. Yellow bobby pins. Pig toes. Peace to thee. Aged. Unread days. Diluted hope. Clay hearts. Grace.

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