the blue muse

Red is scarlet, vermilion, burgundy, rose.

Red is raucous and riot, crimson and season.

Red is the color of intensity’s song.

Red is sanguine and blowzy and keeps our hearts beating.

Red is berry and cherry, the apple of my eye.

Red is rouge and warm lips, and makes no apology.

Red is ruby and valentine, romance and blush.

Red is ritual and sacrifice, sound of life’s breath.

Red is door and desire, deliberate and pounding.

Red is fiery and loud, the pulse of compassion.

Red is heat and hope, blood and sunrise.

Red is cardinal and carmine, love and lipstick.

Red is mother to maroon, pink’s incarnation.

Red is telltale, mysterious, sly.

I don’t know if it’s my allergies or just general malaise, but lately I am feeling a little fuzzy, out of focus, slightly dazed.

I keep trying to put my finger on the problem, but I’m having trouble pinpointing anything. Nothing major stands out, life is going along fairly well, I am writing more, creating, working, planning. But there it is, just sitting there, this fuzzy little ball of discontent.

At the moment I’m not quite sure what to do with it. I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Maybe it’s all the writing, the introspection. Maybe it’s the getting closer to fifty. And the hormones that go with it. Maybe it’s the calm before the storm.

A loud, ear-crashing, spine-tingling thunderstorm.

One that knocks the power out and leaves you sitting in the dark with nothing to do but watch nature run its lovely, lonely course.

One that floods the earth with tears of joy and washes everything clean.

One that ends with the sun breaking straight through the clouds to illuminate the rainbow of reason.

That’s what I need.

I’ll think I’ll just sit here and wait.

Purple is lavender, passion, velvet and rain.

Purple is crocus and violet, pansy and sunset.

Purple is the color of rhythm and rhyme.

Purple calls out your name in the deep dark of night.

Purple is royalty’s secret, the keeper of time.

Purple is grape and wine, proud pie and mulberry.

Purple dances with burgundy, saturated bliss.

Purple is visions of sugar plum, amethyst sparkle.

Purple is mauve and melody, habit and heather.

Purple is sassy and decadent, a cheshire cat smile.

Purple is bruise and empathy, majestic mountains.

Purple is mist and morning, tornado and vine.

Purple is heart and poet and three shades of hunger.

Purple is age and laughter, inertia’s reply.

This is what spring looks like at my house.

Beads, beads and more beads. Seriously, beads are everywhere, what a mess.
I really have to finish cleaning my studio…and then it’s time to start getting into serious jewelry-making mode. Shows will be starting in June. And then I will be busy, oh so busy.

But having so much fun. Fun is good.

And soon I will be having some how-to’s for you about precious metal clay. I might like precious metal clay even more than beads. It’s amazing. You can shape it into anything. Last year I started doing impressions of actual leaves, really loved those. As soon as my garden comes out with something other than buds, I will be working on those again, too. Today is supposed to be 80 degrees here, I bet leaves will be popping out all over the place. Soon.

My color series will continue. Purple will be next (my favorite color). When I am finished, I will have a download for you that will include the whole series, plus a presentation with color wheels that I created for an art group I belong to. (In case you like to study color as much as I do.)

You can’t be at the pole and the equator at the same time.
You must choose your own line, as I hope to do, and it will probably be color.” –Vincent Van Gogh

Blue is royal, cerulean, cornflower, sky.

Blue is aqua and ocean, cobalt and turquoise.

Blue is the color of the sand man’s eye.

Blue is woven through stars, the hue of reflection.

Blue is bells and berries and sometimes the moon.

Blue is tiny and tidy and keeps to itself.

Blue is periwinkle dreams, hopes of delphinium.

Blue is birds and beaches, shadows and thirst.

Blue is lapis lazuli, azure, heaven.

Blue is calm and gentle, embracing the sun.

Blue is soulful and mournful and deeper than midnight.

Blue is peacock and sapphire, heron and heartache.

Blue is navy eternity, quiet and waiting.

Blue is indigo, whispers, a sigh.

Picture this: today you have no obligations, no work, no chores, no deadlines, nothing at all on your to do list.

What would you do? I would pick a few of these:

Make a pot of tea and sit in my garden to watch the birds.

Spend the afternoon swaying in a hammock with a good book and a pillow.

Go for a nice long run, and not feel rushed to get back home.

Sip a glass of wine while eating an extra, extra dark Lindt truffle.

Write a poem about how much I love my life.

Or one about anything at all.

Take a long hot bath with lots and lots of bubbles.

Call a friend that makes me laugh. Giggle.

Spend an hour, or two, on a blanket in the grass just staring up at the sky.

Finish knitting the afghan I’ve been working on for over a  year.

Start another one.

Curl up with a book in front of the fire and stay in my pajamas all day.

Have dinner with my family and stay at the table when we are done,
chatting at laughing at silly things.

Just be.

What does your dream Sunday look like?

It’s that time of year. Time to clean, clear, straighten, repair.

This year, I feel like I need to start with my brain. I won’t say I need to clear out the cobwebs, as that implies an unused space, and I seem to have the opposite problem going on. I need to clear out the clutter, straighten the mess, open a room that can be left there, empty, just for my thoughts to bounce around in. A room with a view, and space to grow.

My first post on this blog was actually about how I need balance. Balance between creativity and business. Clean and disorganized. Time and activity.

I can’t say that I’ve found it. And quite honestly, I don’t think I will. But I’m starting to think that might be okay. Because if you look at balance as being equal weight on both sides of the scale, it means static. Even. Symmetrical. I’m not sure I would be happy with that. Or that it’s even possible for me.

Yes, I wish I had more calm in my life, I wish I had more time. But I wouldn’t want to feel the same way every day. My life is messy, hectic, crazy, and very, very full. But, if it were less full, less crazy, I think I would get bored. If I didn’t have the ups and downs, I would get complacent. Take things for granted. Lose my perspective.

So, I tip the scales. I am constantly pushing further, adding more to my life, trying to get somewhere. Not physically or financially. Mentally. Creatively.

And, quite honestly, I have no idea what that destination looks like.

But I’m pretty sure I’ll know it when I see it.

I am a moment.

You can choose to waste me. You can choose to throw me away. You can choose to ignore me. You can choose to walk right past me.

You can also choose to savor me, to live in me, to make the most of me.

You can choose to stop and take notice of precisely where you are at this moment. What you are doing. Who is next to you. Or right in front of you.

Is your daughter singing while she sets the table? Did your husband just kiss your forehead? Are you walking past a display of fresh flowers, a riot of color just calling your name? Are you washing the dishes and wishing you were somewhere else? Or are you watching the sunset outside your window, even as you scrub the pans?

I am the little boy waiting for you to notice that I combed my hair without being told.

I am the first flower that blooms in your garden, nodding my head as you walk by, again.

I am the 87-year-old woman sweeping her sidewalk, alone, always, alone.

I am also the breeze ruffling the leaves at of the treetops, the hummingbird that pauses to make sure you aren’t a flower, the quiet just before the children wake up and your day begins.

I am 1,440 opportunities every day to be grateful, to breathe life in, to open your eyes to the world around you.

I am a moment.

I am yours.

P.S. This post is part of You Capture – A moment

and Today at Communal Global

I know, another flower shot, but this little guy is the only flower in my entire garden that has managed to poke its head up out of the ground and actually bloom. So I couldn’t resist…what a trooper!

Click on the link above to see other Best Shot Monday photos.

Watch for new etsy listings today and tomorrow… I have been working hard, Spring is getting me in the creative mood!

sunshine, shoots of green,

birds, buds, and fresh, fresh air

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(Some of the elements used in the digital illustration above are from The Graphics Fairy)