Am I an Artist?

She sat on the stone steps at twilight looked at the emerging moon. She spoke aloud the question she’d been carrying for some time, “What does it take to be an artist?” Does it take paintings in galleries with large, fancy openings? Is it a book announcing your name on a shimmery spine laid upon a bookshelf? Does it take the right amount of schooling with the perfect technique and style? Of course, what she was really asking is, “Am I an artist?” She realized that children never ask this question. They dare to believe themselves amazing artists and it…

She. is. becoming.

I have quite a few friends these days who are taking brave risks in their lives. I’m amazed by the way these fellow kindred souls are challenging the status quo, saying yes to the daring and keeping their hearts open to where the Spirit is flowing in their life. This poem is dedicated to those of you who are taking one small step toward your becoming. Cheers to you and your courage! She is becoming. She’s not finished yet. No, she still has loads of color to splash around. A palette of rainbow to fling toward the universe. She has…

Nurturing the (Soul, soul)

Often, we attempt to nurture the self. But, the self isn’t the same as the soul. I’ve been considering this quite a bit lately. Here is a poem that arose from from my reflections. Soul, soul. I hadn’t seen her in some time, as she loved her secret space. When she peaked her presence, I delighted. In short order, I took control of her needs. I bought her a Starbucks latte and a new red handbag, but she didn’t seem impressed. I fed her fancy chocolates and poured her a glass of wine. She smiled a bit, but still, something…

Breathable Space

  The soul, the soul — she must be wooed to come out of hiding, to come out from her secret space. She will suffocate under the weight of perfection, crass demands to keep up, do better, try harder. The soul, the soul — she must be wooed by spans of breath to enter into a space of discovery. She will bloom beautiful as she tries and fails, discovers anew, plays for the fun of it. The soul, the soul — are you ready to meet her? Consider the spaces you’ve been in, the ones buzzing with life, ones where…

Where Do I Begin?

Hi! How are you? I have much to tell you. But, where do I begin? Where do I begin after a whirlwind month of game playing, taco dinners and movie escape? How do I gather the nuggets of goodness to tell you when a thousand thoughts scramble for attention? “Choose me! Choose me!,” they clamor in my ear. A moment of clarity about the church; a single line streams about being “liked”; touched by sadness, I wonder about passing it on; creativity is never far from consciousness. All is short-lived, unacted upon. Weeks gnaw, consumed by daily chores, grocery lists…