...the scales balance...

watercolor 

on cold pressed Kilimanjaro paper

“The Weighing”

by Jane Hirshfield

The heart's reasons

seen clearly,

even the hardest

will carry

its whip-marks and sadness

and must be forgiven.

As the drought-starved

eland forgives

the drought-starved lion

who finally takes her,

enters willingly then

the life she cannot refuse,

and is lion, is fed,

and does not remember the other.

So few grains of happiness

measured against all the dark

and still the scales balance.

The world asks of us

only the strength we have and we give it.

Then it asks more, and we give it.

wrapped

watercolor

“Wrap your coat, O sublime dream, around the child.” 
― Franz Kafka

paintpartyfriday

where the deep things are

watercolor

“Feeling is deep and still; 

and the word that floats on the surface

Is as the tossing buoy, 

that betrays where the anchor is hidden.”

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Sharing at paintpartyfriday

frog (the first)

ball point pen

inspired by the recent pen and ink work of

 Nic McLean

and

Hwee

Haiku - Frog  

the frog and I
exchange glances
both motionless

three flies circling
the frog
two flies circling 

Don Haney

Sharing at PaintPartyFriday

Weird-Bird

ballpoint pen

“Birds are flyin' south for winter.

Here's the Weird-Bird headin' north,

Wings a-flappin', beak a-chatterin',

Cold head bobbin' back 'n' forth.

He says, "It's not that I like ice

Or freezin' winds and snowy ground.

It's just sometimes it's kind of nice

To be the only bird in town.” 

― Shel Silverstein

Sharing at APR: Things that Fly

Alexander the Beetle

watercolor and ink

Forgiven 

I found a little beetle; so that Beetle was his name,
And I called him Alexander and he answered just the same.
I put him in a match-box, and I kept him all the day ...
And Nanny let my beetle out -
Yes, Nanny let my beetle out -
She went and let my beetle out -
And Beetle ran away.

She said she didn't mean it, and I never said she did,
She said she wanted matches and she just took off the lid,
She said that she was sorry, but it's difficult to catch
An excited sort of beetle you've mistaken for a match.

She said that she was sorry, and I really mustn't mind,
As there's lots and lots of beetles which she's certain we could find,
If we looked about the garden for the holes where beetles hid -
And we'd get another match-box and write BEETLE on the lid.

We went to all the places which a beetle might be near,
And we made the sort of noises which a beetle likes to hear,
And I saw a kind of something, and I gave a sort of shout:
"A beetle-house and Alexander Beetle coming out!"

It was Alexander Beetle I'm as certain as can be,
And he had a sort of look as if he thought it must be Me,
And he had a sort of look as if he thought he ought to say:
"I'm very very sorry that I tried to run away."

And Nanny's very sorry too for you-know-what-she-did,
And she's writing ALEXANDER very blackly on the lid,
So Nan and Me are friends, because it's difficult to catch
An excited Alexander you've mistaken for a match.

~A.A. Milne

Sharing at PPF

Les Misérables

watercolor 

Do you hear the people sing
Lost in the valley of the night?
It is the music of a people
Who are climbing to the light.

For the wretched of the earth
There is a flame that never dies.
Even the darkest night will end
And the sun will rise.

 Les Misérables (musical)


sharing at APR

well mixed

“I'm not confused. I'm just well mixed.”  

~ Robert Frost

watercolor


“I asked the Zebra, 
are you black with white stripes? 
Or white with black stripes? 
And the zebra asked me, 
Are you good with bad habits?
Or are you bad with good habits?
Are you noisy with quiet times? 
Or are you quiet with noisy times? 
Are you happy with some sad days? 
Or are you sad with some happy days? 
Are you neat with some sloppy ways? 
Or are you sloppy with some neat ways? 
And on and on and on and on and on and on he went.
I’ll never ask a zebra about stripes...again.”
~Shel Silverstein 

for ppf

The Oliphaunt

watercolor

(by minnemie)

a handwritten note for mother's day
by Devan (8)

The King's Return

watercolor

The King beneath the mountains,

The King of carven stone,

The lord of silver fountains

Shall come into his own!

His crown shall be upholden,

His harp shall be restrung,

His halls shall echo golden

To songs of yore re-sung.

The woods shall wave on mountains

And grass beneath the sun;

His wealth shall flow in fountains

And the rivers golden run.

The streams shall run in gladness,

The lakes shall shine and burn,

All sorrow fail and sadness

At the Mountain-king’s return!

~J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

true colors

watercolor

“My skin is kind of sort of brownish pinkish yellowish white. 

My eyes are greyish blueish green, but I'm told they look orange in the night. 

My hair is reddish blondish brown, but its silver when its wet, 

and all the colors I am inside have not been invented yet.” 
-Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends


for APR: rainbow

pea(ce), please!

 

watercolor

"Peace, please!" 

the exasperated mother exclaimed,

after bountiful bullet-peas

at brother and back were aimed.

loss

Jackson and Barbara Boyett

1947 - 2011

so sudden so soon

gone 
from this temporary

dusty earthly home

and my immature 

heart aches 
for loss of love, wisdom, 

security you were
to me
to many

and in Time my heart

will rejoice for Love taking

you in perfect timing

but not yet...

not yet...

not
get it

yet


pencil sketch

http://www.kxan.com/dpp/news/local/austin/church-mourns-loss-of-its-pastor-wife 
http://dsf.org/Welcome_files/Obituary.pdf

invisible

watercolor

the beggar woman is on the corner again...

invisible to those who walk on

pass by

blush

at the 
one 
coin in her paper cup

the beggar woman is cornered again...

at the crossing 
between inside and out

pretense and heart

smile and smart 

the beggar woman is staring again...

from my mirror

into the me

invisible

to all

but Thee

the beggar woman is walking again:

                                       still

                                             limping

                                                         lightly                         

but
 You did not pass by

 nor blush

at the empty cup
You came

to fill up.

Nutty Claus

Nutty Claus,

did Mrs. Claus

not tell you that

 the kids expect

you white and red?

The kids, he replied,

will be just fine

with me however I am.

't is the adults,

 I fear

to be confused and drear

'bout my counter 

                           cultural 

                                                  countenance.

for Whimsical Wednesday

Pieter's Nutty Claus

Pieter (5)

feelings of fall

                                                             Fall

f

   a

       l

          l

             i

            n

       g

                                                                fell

                                                              f

                                                            e

                                                          e

                                                         l

                                                          i

                                                            n

                                                               g

                                                                full

                                                                    f

                                                                    u

                                                                   l

                                                                 l

                                                             y

                                                        Fall

watercolor

the captive

watercolor

his keen mind

held captive

in the prison of

frailty

wept 

                                                for humanity 

                                                                 and

                                                                      himself

the mother

Beware

the mother 

bear.
She will scare
those who dare
interfere with them
in her den.
Wears she fur or human hair,
has she paws or fingers fair,
 be aware
of
the mother
bear.


Continuous line drawing

Conversation with a surgeon about a toddler's broken finger

watercolor

The finger, he said, is pretty messed up...

We humans, I heard, are pretty messed up.

It's broken, he said, it's worse than we thought...

We're broken, I heard, we're worse than we thought.

There is hope, he said, for healing of course...

There is hope, I heard, for redemption of course.

But growth, he said, may be crooked or odd...

And growth, I heard, refines the crooked'n odd.

And numbness, he said, cannot be ruled out...

but numbness, I heard, afflict even th' devout.

Yet movement, he said, should be fully restored...

There's movement, I heard, when the Spirit restores.

The whole finger, he smiled, is but part of his story...

The whole story, I smiled, is redemption, His glory.

apology

because sometimes, you see,

the three-toed monster in me

just will not let me

be

free

to be

just

the me

i wish

to be...

the me

that will not make thee

flee

inkblot#4

pen and colored pencil