Return to Me: A Sacred Mother Painting Exploration

MaMagiMamaMatterMaterMother Today, I share with you a love offering. The above is a small portion of a painting I created, entitled, “Return to Me.” From March 2020 to March 2021, I took part in the Red Madonna “Psalms of Creation,” (a branch of the larger Musea community). You are invited to spend nine minutes to watch a video that shares about this painting and the exploration of the theme of Sacred Mother and her relationship to the young masculine. In the video, you’ll hear why this theme is important to me and will see some of the layers, process of…

Love Is Here (Easter Blessings)

Swirls of celebration make their way over the dusty road,a heart traveling in the center,a heart that stands for justice,flips the common story of wealth as King —this Love kneels at the feet of the traveler,this Love gently washes the grime away,this Love hovers over the lonely,this Love invites the one who never fit to a feast,this Love holds the space with love.On the day when violence comes to destroy,Love says, “I love you.”In this, everything changes.As Love rains down on those who have ears,they in turn,pour love over Love,wet the seeds of Love,sit vigil and wait untilone day, after…

Invitation to SEE in the Dark

Shady black rolls into town —comes as stripes of darknessthat infiltrate the spaceThis story begins with the line,“On a dark and stormy night,”it’s an ancient story told —one you may have heard beforewith death as a central point When this thread is told,a cloak of grief descends,a dappled blue fog of sadness hangs,may even lure one towarda grim alleyway of lostnesswhere black is on trial Of all the hues, you see—black is the edgy oneit’s identity has been up in the air for some time— is it all pigments mixed togetheror the absence of light? this confusion has turned black…

Seeker of Ash

Ash Wednesday · Beginning of LentFebruary 17th, 2021 I’m drainedfrom invitations to follow the Light —eyes on the prize of resurrection. As ifthe lightis the only thingwe needto seek,and it’s there. No. (there.) Just. out. of. reach. Separate from me. I try to grasp it. Arms stretched. Fingers. Can’t. Reach. the Blaze. I fall on my knees. Exhausted from Trying. Overhead, silver fingers wisp in the sky;they point to the ground. I take my fingers and press them into soft soil,move them through blades of grass —dirt finds my fingernails;I start to digwithout thought. Soon enough,I’m elbows deepin faint memorieslaced…

Sacred Treasure

I have heardthere is goldbeyondthe dollar,a treasure where deep joy abidesdespite the desperate web of storiesspun to seize. I am toldto seek thisfleck of honeypast the irate voiceswho squawk from one channelof persuasion andwiden my scopeto the holy court where wholeness and grace residesfor all. I learnthis wealthisn’t found inunbendable beliefof the left or right,rather is coaxedfrom betweenmy tears asI sway gentlyto see all anglesof the firm structuresin place. There, at the slim pocket offorty-two degrees,in the region of the heart,a rainbow ribbonof organic delightis glimpsed.Her eyes catch minewith a gaze of love;she reassures“I am here with you.” I breathe…