White Heart

Here is a photo that Karen took of me and Sasha last Sunday. She calls this her mother tree. Parts of her are dying but she is majestic and very old.

Sayword sent me this poem yesterday by her friend and mentor who died last winter.

White Hearts

I would have to be an angel to stop this diminishing---

November, dark prelude, a gray and pressing sky.

I would have to be a leaf still threaded to a tree.

But in this season, I feel myself wizening
and know I will soon talk less,
move in smaller ways.

I’ll eat winter squash, orange and heavy,
in bites from a wooden spoon;

read Russian novels
beside the fire.

Forgetting my dream of water rushing over fields,

I’ll remember bulbs,
white hearts rigid in winter ground

and the stories I’ve heard
of Eskimos gathered
under domes of snow.

How they sit hungry and speak,
while outside Death,

the Snow Walker, moves over frozen tundra

until the Old Ones, seeing the young grow bone thin,
give up their own bodies,
walk slowly out to meet Him.

Genie Zeiger
Sudden Dancing

I had a wonderful overnight with Zoey, the 5 year old Angel. This morning we woke up and had more crepes, then another visit to the dog park. A friend gave me a kid's book about Babar the Elephant doing yoga. Zoey remembered the book and practiced poses out of it while I did my own practice. It was fun! Several years ago we went to a New Age store that she calls "the Buddha store"; I bought her a Buddha necklace that she wears to this day. She asked to go back today so we did. She got a gift for friend who is having a birthday party today. She selected a pink stone heart for her friend and an absolutely beautiful card. She now wants to spend a weekend with us in the country -- by herself, without her older siblings. So that was a huge milestone for her. Having her here brought me out of myself in such a beautiful way. The healing power of love!

Now... to start the application for the MFA program! It is all done online. I am intimidated -- but will start this afternoon. I also want to get to a show at the Institute of Contemporary Art, then will go to Mark's opening at Atlantic Works Gallery tonight. I am feeling more settled and comfortable now that I have a vision of what I want to do next. My sister describes this decision as a move towards the light. Pursuing a passion. Will I quit my job? Probably, eventually. It is so heavy. I don't want to be around all that darkness anymore. Many years ago I took time off from being a social worker/therapist. I felt I was a pain sponge. It was a great decision. That part of my life may be coming to a close. I always felt I wanted to be of service, to make the world a better place. That motivated me through years of low pay and a heavy workload. I'm not sure it's how I want to use my precious time anymore.

So first things first... I will apply to this program and see if they accept me. I have no formal training in art but have produced a lot of work over the last 20 years.