Heartbreaking Beauty

I’ve been dealing with some heavy stuff lately, confronting Death and Life and my place in the middle of it all. I was feeling anxious last night and this poem came out of me.

The Graceful Muse

Beauty can be heartbreaking
A drowning and an awakening
Pleasure and pain
are basically the same
Nothing is quite like
feeling them at the same time

Moments like these
leave me gasping for air
But I never stopped breathing
I can’t tell if I’m still in my body
or if I just starting leaving
I don’t know
what on earth is a boundary
Everything bleeds
and blends into
a fluid One
I am all of it
Together and completely undone

What is there to fear?
Why the anxiety?
It’s dancing with ecstacy…
Strange partners,
But it’s
Death and Life
Life from Death
it’s all the same.
Core essence,
different names.

It used to scare me
I still feel those slivers tickle my soul
Sometimes it excites me
and makes my engine start to roar

Everything is nothing
and nothing is everything
Welcome to the paradox of existence

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The Joy of Transformation

The Graceful Birch

If I’m not happy with a current work in progress or even a finished piece, I change it. I take it apart, a little or a lot, and transform it into something new. Possibilities are endless. Why settle for what does not inspire joy? I’m all about joy. If it doesn’t spark joy, it’s time to change (Yes, I became a KonMari convert in 2018).

One of my favorite transformations. Story about this piece coming soon.

My latest transformation piece is a butterfly, which seems appropriate. Butterflies are symbols of transformation, starting as chunky weight-bound caterpillars and eventually turning into light graceful flying butterflies.

My original plan for this piece did not happen, as I cut too little cord (frequent problem of mine). I tried turning it into something else, and still did not like the results.

Tried to make the best of it, but didn’t like how it turned…

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Home (30)

A poem for my 30th birthday. Hopefully soon I will write a full blog post exploring the theme of this poem.

The Graceful Muse

April 12th, 2019

I often wondered if Home was a real place.
I spent 30 years trying to find it.
No matter where I was,
I never felt like I belonged,

so out of place

so uncomfortable

so restless and so, so lost.

I just wanted to find a place
to sink my roots into
and grow like crazy.

I begged the land to take me
I begged the people to accept me
I begged God to be my everything
and I begged heaven to somehow save me

But Home was with me all along,
I just never knew it.
I was walking around in it
(even if I was a foot off the ground).

How did I not see
the most visible parts of me?
How could I not feel
the most tangible parts of me?

This right here,
this flesh and blood and bones
this skin and hair…

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