Widowed Without A Manual

Some of us grieve longer then others. I will not be rushed out of my love, that still inhabits my heart.

Why Do WE Accumulate So Much

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As I’m embarking on yet another move I look from room to room and its all full of my stuff! Why do I do this to myself. Am I so insecure that I need things to block my passage? Do we accumulate to give visual substance to our worth? It’s like my sisters thinking that I somehow have inherited money because they can’t fathom that I actually sell. I think their lack of acceptance of me and my life is beginning to bore holes in my soul. Everyday another one slowly gets drilled and little bits of me drip out. D R I P..D.R.I.P D R I PPPPP  Till I slip around and loose my balance, but with no walls to hold its inevitable that a fall will occur. I just want to paint right now! I don’t want to pack! I don’t want to do my taxes! I just want to get lost somewhere between the primer coat and final glaze. That is how I see my work. Little bits of me gets right in there and remains. Last night I dreamt of painting round kids and elephants. Humm. This morning I posted all sorts of colourful images from the web of India and all its coloured beauty. Again I have started painting bits of furniture white. A very plain and pine shelve unit that I bought for 3.00 also mom  had these ugly side tables downstairs in the guest room. I have painted one white to see if it can be saved.

Her Locks Fell Upon Her Breast

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Author: ilovecloudstoo

I live in Canada though​ I was not born here. Newfoundland is where my heart breathes. Primarily I am a visual artist, welded and or cast bronze sculptures. Sylvia Plath may have been the seed planted in me that is creating poetry. Since then I have read so many great modern poets work. Art is my sustaining business poetry sustains my soul.

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