Juniper and Sage

Juniper

I’ve always like to get involved in artsy stuff Writing poetry,prose and short stories is something I really like to do for personal reasons. Not to mention just because it’s so darn fun!

Anyways rather recently that on Twitter of all places, there are bunches of writers (really good ones too!) that respond to writing prompts, most of which are short but fun to do. #prompt, #WritingCommunity, #amwriting are good places to start.

Starting today, I’ll be sharing the stuff I do there on this blog, with paintings, Art, and whatever else tickles my tickler. This poem/picture is of back home in the high desert. Background is of Butte Valley near the Oregon/Cali state-line with the sage in full bloom!

Oh yes, more photography soon too as Spring is about ready to sprong and itching to get out, Lord willing. 😀

A Couple More …

Ok maybe three.😎 😹 I’m still painting as well as getting back to my writing. Slow progress, step by step, day by day! Here are a couple of smaller acrylics I’ve done recently. The first I did during a recent snow and ice extravaganza here in Gresham depicting my Rebecca’s and mine He and She tree sheds. In more fantastical conditions than we were in at the time of course. The other acrylic and ink is set in Sand Beach Oregon, which looks rather mystical at low tide. What really goes on out there when it gets dark … The last is an acrylic street scene which are fun to do from time to time.

He shed she shed

Sand Beach Sundown

Waiting

A sunny day in December!

The rain is back of course but here in Gresham, Thom Creek is barreling through the ivy in mid winter form!

Thom Creekeroo

Perfect Parts

A really cool quote I found along the way, which in retrospect is so very true …

“Life’s not perfect, but there are some perfect parts in it.”

                                                                                    ~ Author Unknown strikes again

 

Thank God for those!

 

 

The Waterfall That Sings

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A “secret place” I happened across. Here is Henline Falls, located in the Santiam Foothills by the Cascade Mountains in Oregon. The streams of these falls run a different volumes and together they sound like an ethereal chorus! I found the trail to these falls quite by accident, and alas alone, but next time I have to bring someone special with me yo enjoy the beauty and sounds of this wonderful area!

Psalm 42:7 NASB “Deep calls to deep at the sound of Your waterfalls; All Your breakers and Your waves have rolled over me.”

Stained Glass You

 

“‘People are like stained glass windows: they sparkle and shine when the sun’s out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is light within.’ – Elizabeth Kubler-Ross”

A Beautiful Summer Day

I’ve been busy with schoolwork the past few weeks, but I did get out for a short drive in the mountains around town the other day. Going down a favorite four wheel drive road, I turned left down a small road I’ve never taken before and came to this spot. Yes, it turned into a beautiful summer day for sure!

Carly’s Violin

http://browse.deviantart.com/?qh=&section=&global=1&q=violin#/d1hd900

Another short story I did for lasts years fiction class ….

Carly’s Violin

The wise, ancient, musky scented wood felt velvety against her pale cheek. How it glistens and gleams. Hollows like windows into the soul. Who owned that violin? Whose hands slid, who admired the body like you? Like strings, it can respond to a single touch, playing out the notes you desire to hear. The violin can scream and whisper in crescendos, and for your great amusement, it sings high, low, every note in between.

She ran her thin fingers over the grooves and indentations, as if she was following a map to her destiny. In many ways she felt as though it was … Her muse and her meaning. Each string was plucked once with careful precision, checking for clear, clean tone, which called out to her very soul. It was perfect. The girl inhaled, pausing in that essential moment before the fragile strings of the bow make contact with the instrument below. The two were like temperamental lovers, and she brought them together to make magic, and the sweet music was born.

The world was lost in the moment. Half notes, whole notes, quarter, eighth, sixteenth notes. Unlocking hearts she plays, her fingers shifted around the neck, shimmering and shaking. Her eyes were closed, and to anyone who looked upon her, she appeared as a angel. As the music trembled into silence, she was surprised to see a young man standing so close. With a reluctant smile, he held out his hand.

In a moment the violin was in his hands. The girl stood behind the boy, pressing his soft, powerful fingers against the hard strings, molding his opposite hand around the wood bow. Momentarily the staccato, col legno, vibrato, crescendo were mastered with magical hands. She breathed with him, moving together to create that special moment. The music burned between them, and special it was. They had not experienced anything like it.

The boy surrendered the violin back to the girl, his face elated even as tears formed in his eyes. Quietly he reached into the depths his pocket, and dropped a few coins into the ragged fedora on the sidewalk.

“Please, play on.”

And so the girl did …

Cow and Pig

A probably not so PC a joke, but I’ll put it out there anyways …

On a trip together, a Hindu, a rabbi and a lawyer stop at a farmhouse and ask to stay the night. There’s space for two, but one will have to sleep in the barn. 

“I’ll go,” the Hindu volunteers. A few minutes later, the lawyer and the rabbi hear a knock.

“There’s a cow in the barn,” the Hindu says. “A cow is sacred, and I cannot sleep with a sacred beast.”

“No problem, I can do it,” the rabbi says, grabbing his pillow. But minutes later, the rabbi knocks.

“There’s a pig in the barn. It’s an unclean animal- my belief forbids me to be near such a creature,”

With a tired sigh, the lawyer heads out. Almost immediately, there’s a third knock at the door.

… It’s the cow and the pig.

A Spring Blessing

I found this in The Circle of Life by Joyce Rupp and Macrina Wiederkehr and it seemed appropriate on this first day of Spring. Although it snowed here in the mountains yesterday; and again today, and will again tomorrow … This is probably may be my favorite time of year, full of hope … with all things new … with greenery struggling to get through the snow already melting. And the added bonus of my birthday in a couple of days! May this time “work magic in the corners of our darkness.” May you all be blessed!

A Spring Blessing

Blessed are you, spring,

bright season of life awakening.

You gladden our hearts

with opening buds and returning leaves

as you put on your robes of splendor.

Blessed are you, spring.

In you is a life no death can destroy.

As you exchange places with winter

you harbor no unforgiving spirit

for broken tree limbs and frozen buds.

Blessed are you, spring.

You open the closed buds of our despair

as you journey with us

to the flowering places.

Blessed are you, spring.

You invite us to sing songs

to the frozen regions within

and to bless the lessons of winter

as we become your partner in a new dance.

Blessed are you, spring.

Like Jesus, standing before the tomb of Lazarus,

you call to us: “Remove winter’s stone, come out,

there is life here you have not yet tasted.”

Blessed are you, spring,

free gift of the earth.

Without cost we gaze upon your glory.

You are a gospel of good news

for the poor and rich alike.

Blessed are you, spring.

Your renewing rain showers and cathartic storms

nurture the potential that sleeps in Earth’s heart

and in our own earthen hearts.

Blessed are you, spring,

season of resurrection, sacrament of promise.

Like Jesus you rise up out of the darkness,

leaving around you a wake of new life.

Blessed are you, spring,

miracle child of the four seasons.

With your wand of many colors

you work magic in the corners of our darkness.

Blessed are you, spring,

season of hope and renewal.

Wordless poem about all within us

that can never die.

Each year you amaze us

with the mirace of returning life.