Breadth Height Space

Do you ever stop and take the time to notice the lives of those who have come between when you look into the depths of a painting; or a book, a flower or a sacred place or something you’ve never seen before…

To watch a master lost in a series of the brush strokes; secured, relevant, diligent and with purpose. Perhaps a chance to read the words of the writer who may not be so renown; but that literature is so pensive, engaged, involved and so deep that you can feel the consciousness in their art. Diligent; conscious, a heavenly virtue indicative of great work ethic; that it is to believe that the work is good in itself.

Where you can see the secrets of the heart

That soul inside who is watcher of the painter of constellations perhaps who is not even of this world.

The artist like the poet writes down absolutely every story and images in their head or the dreamer who had an idea; in the belief of concept that one day there would be come, the driverless car.

Dreamers often inspire others and are inspired for they have more ideas than anyone can count. Keeping stashes of drawings, pieces of canvas, notebooks full and paper all over the desk. Scribbled, written potted and painted while away at a distance with imagination.

It’s ever a wonder where the mind can reach; Does an artist wander casually or are the intent with purpose to explore? Where does the mind go when it wonders…is that imagination…

The concept of forming new ideas; the faculty or action of forming images; to conceive the concept of the external; to be so in the present that the senses are so vivid in thought.

To say that a writer can go inside their own book; to enjoy the written word. Do they make it a home within the lines of the poetry they write?

And if for the first time ever, what if I pick up my pen without hesitation, shall I write about the things I love, maybe my infatuation with life, or feelings and anger, hunger and pain, despair…

To weave the elements like threads; interlacing a single distinct concept unit of language; comprising, inflected and of variant forms. That these words come free on the paper; they will just flow out.

Just as the artist draws the facial features on a canvas letting the portrait stare back as if it could see forever; the dreamer inspired ideas; a writer is a word painter, creating word art; sculpting dimensions of thought to length, depth, breath, height and space.

Photo:

St. Peter’s Church

Leuven, Belgium

20 August 2017

Light Captured


The sudden light of cloudburst sprinkles and pastel hues and hopscotch lines creating rainbow designs is the question in the artists eyes while nature answers to her why’s; what is this Light?
Is it electromagnetic radiation that is visible and perceivable by the human eye?
Is it the colours between red and violet.
Does it have frequencies of terahertz, wavelengths and nanometers; equal to one billionth of a metre?
Is there is the sensation of perceiving light; it is brightness and sudden light; the medium of illumination…is that what makes sight possible.
There is the illumination where it’s derived from a source of light; the light from the moon and the pathway of light and when illumination of another when standing in the light.
There is daylight, dawn and daybreak and windows that admit illumination in with architecture and openings that divide panes in a glass.
What about the light that provides information or clarification to research that produces new light on a question. Enlightenment, brightness and countenance.
Light can be a state of awareness or understanding derived from the light of an experience and Spiritual awareness. Is it possible there light can be a guiding spirit or divine presence in each of us?
Perhaps light is a way of looking at or considering a matter; an aspect or perhaps even a way to see into a situation in a different light.
To understand other’s individual opinions means to allow choices and standards; to accept the capacities of others with those who act according to their own light and with equal respect of those who are different. Could that be the light of insight; of understanding, information, and ideas.
They say light is a being; a form of energy; that light creates light and when another form of energy is supplied; There it becomes incandescence. It’s the vibration of entire atom and that luminescence comes from the electron.
This light of energy is illuminating just as the sun enlightens the earth. With light and energy it becomes clear to the intellect or conscience allowing us to shed the light of truth and knowledge.
With the increase of knowledge; it enlightens the mind and our understanding; easing heavy burdens and difficulties we bare; borne and done. That is to be that one who we seek to be; light of heart; graceful, agile and light.
To be that one light even it’s only to that one person; or to the many they inspire; or the one whom we adore. To be the one who lights up our lives and gives it back in return. It is that kind of light that sets us on fire; it is an igniting, a kindling and a burning and a receiving of light.

I watch the sun late in the afternoon, nature and the woods luminous with golden beams streaming through the trees, answering my questions while capturing nature in this light.

Thank you for reading.

Signs of Spring 


These flower petals displayed,

A symmetry on this infinite earth. 

It’s an intersecting gaze 

On omniscient eyes. 

Spring dawning of a natural kind

From a voice that breathes life 

So that each might prosper.

All That Remains 


From the “Wild Irish Way, the road that leads to Minard Castle where it stands proud on a hill overlooking the Irish bay. 

It’s ruins prominent; with views across the Irish Sea to the edge of glaciers to Ireland’s southern Peninsula. J took me there today. I loved it. 


A castle commanding one’s attention; one of only three of the 16th century built; it’s forbidden to enter now. 

At high tide it remains a citadel submerged; once beautiful but left in despair. 


There are places where time and nature toss the waves rolling, weakening the sea walls leaving all thrown; left at the shore…


And that is all that remains. 

About Translation 


I bend my mind below,

Longing to hear your songs. 

It is where we reclaim it back; 

That is what you teach. 

You are my ecstasy, 

My reason for being

Returning to me,

With the anticipation 

Of life and love. 
And above all; I believe in you,

That this is that place; 

Where nothing can stop the art,

Nor the artist; this gift of creating. 
We will live this life 

And all that we imagined. 

No one can stop one’s will

From harrowing wounds;

And distress though it maybe great,

Is not yours, but it is others. 

All I do, is long to hear you sing. 
It is your voice translating 

Into beautiful lyrics,

Like French poetry on fire;

It is music fluid and flowing. 
For we are here for each other

And forged from this earth 

For each of us…

Is made of clay. 

Heart

  
“There are people who take the heart out of you, and there are those who put it back.” – Elizabeth David 

It’s true… Yes, I am a food lover and one of my favourite hobbies is discovering and creating new recipes. It is some my husband and do together and he has been a great inspiration to me and although I don’t always admit it, ‘I think he is a better cook than me.’

So living here in Wales I have discovered it has some of the best produce, Welsh lamb, beef and food and drink in the entire world.  And the British seem to scarcely noticed what was is on their plates much less grown outside in their gardens. 

Eating healthy, homegrown, fresh food is one of life’s great pleasures, and he has taught me that cooking should not be a drudgery but an exciting and creative act. 

And in doing doing, his cooking has I inspired me not only to cook, but to think about food in an entirely different way. 

As a result of his inspiration and love for fresh food; I’m healthy, fit and much happier. 

Thank you Darling for everything. 

Photo credit by Hart

Winter in France

Situated near the Pyrenees and located in close proximity to the Mediterranean coast.

The climate of this French city is very wet with snow and a cold climate normally found in the Midi-Pyrenees area of southern France, alongside the banks of the Garonne River.

The winter months in the Mid Pyreneese are inspiring, when daytime times during January and February average around 12°C, and on occasion reach more than 15°C, although the nights can feel a little chilly.

Although the winter months between November and February are nothing like the cold, snowy affairs of northern Europe, the mountains do see its share of days and nights with freezing temperatures and the occasional snowfall.