September 26, 2010 Features

Our Secret Garden of Thoughts

“If you reveal your secrets to the wind you should not blame the wind for revealing it to the trees.” Khalil Gibran

One of the most delicious parts about being surrounded by artists and writers, for me, is that each piece takes me into a new world. Artists tend to reveal their innermost secret thoughts, feelings, demons, and dreams through their work. It’s like walking through a secret garden, which is how I felt after I put these features together. Please tread softly as you peruse these artists innermost feelings.

Savina by Jessica Walker

Del by rowanmacs

a shadow of herself by Jessica Andrews

Don’t you ever leave by Elox

un~TOUCHED by jacqleen

the road trip by clancy214

THERE IS A TREMBLING OF THE HEART by Blake Steele

There is a trembling
of the heart that comes
in the presence of birth,
or death,
or a pure soul:
for then is sensed
the ceaseless origin
of all things
and a kind of music
of mystery
that has no words…
only an imperceptible
energetic movement.
There is an unbloomed blossom
always opening towards us;
there is milk for our lips
constantly dribbling
from a soft, spiritual breast
until we take off our bodies
to sink beyond silence
into the teeming throngs
of a wing-packed sky.

imagining a kiss by Siki Dlanga

i had
something
profound
to say.
but now apparently i,
i lost my words
in your mouth.

(c) siki dlanga
27Sept2010

prayer of the unburdened earth of her heart by Sesheshet

If I whisper my story to a fallen leaf
will Spring bloom upon it
like a wind
from my mouth?

And will you kiss me then;
being able to taste
the way you feel
inside your skin
as I deflower this early red Maple
and inhale
a sweet harvest of red as love Lily?

And if I burst into flames
will you touch my red stars
(like a child would a butterfly’s wing)
as they fly
through the sky
overhead—
through the galaxy
inside your head?

And will you catch one?

And name it simply,
Heart?

And when the night drowns you in loss
and the dawn doesn’t come up at all,

will you carve me a Love
out of driftwood,
from the beach
of infinity’s end—
and paint it pure white
to match
All you know

and All
that you
do not?

For then,
perhaps,
when the moon blinks her big arctic eye one more time,
resetting
her dials due north—
and the gods turn their backs
on the sun while they bathe
in the tumultuous tourmaline sea—

our stories will sprout
from the cave of our beings
carving galaxies of unnamable stars
on the skin of the early red Maple
at the end of the traveller’s path,
and memories of if, when and why,
and the pain all consuming
of holding and held,
and prison, unrequited, and hell

will be free

and will be no more

than a breeze
off the face
of dawn’s highest
pink powder mountain.

© Kristin Reynolds 9 23 2010

man go by veuvenoire

you caress the curves of a fruit
and peel off its skin
to uncover the sweetness within
slowly, slowly – squeezing the flesh,
juice drips from your fingers.

you bare the core
gnawing and nibbling it clean
suck in the moisture
sweet joy – licking your lips,
passion shows on your face.

who buzzed the blender?
mashing the flesh into pulp
intention of the fruit abused
caress prohibited – beauty destroyed,
what cruel way to be punished for juiciness!

we mixed it with fluffy cream
seasoned with finely ground sugar
still carrying the promise of cane
licked it off – sticky skin,
is it the way to console?

Next Full Moon by Linaji

All’s he ever wanted was
A hand on his shoulder while he was writing
About his love for her.
She made it feel like his life was everlasting
Because her vision of him was always so kind

All’s he ever wanted was
A smile from her
As he walked into the space she occupied
She felt such a joy he knew
But sometimes could not figure out why.

One day he asked her:
“Why do you love me so much?”

She said:
I plan on loving you everyday.
When I get up I shower with a vision of
Our love wrapped tight around us
and I don’t miss a day.

She went on…

“Our love is ours, and ours to give freely
So why not love you darling?
I love my life,
When you are not here, I love anyway
Everything I choose to;
when I see you walk into my world
You feel like a gift every time”

He liked that he was just a little bit more to her
Than their dog Alice who he knew she loved desperately
Or her friend Midggie whom she talked to endlessly
Or even the fired egg sandwich on rye she savored at
Langlys Coffee House

He felt a love like this
could just be something
worth cultivating and promoting in his
own heart everyday;

“Don’t forget”
he said to himself,

“Sometimes she likes wild flowers at midnight”

Smiling like a man who found out a true secret

He marked that down in his calendar

next full moon

Linaji 2010

Lunatic by ModernMythology

My gypsy soul has found a home
Under clear skies and Ethereal Moon
As I dance away in mortal shell
My spirit soars like an elemental
Past this Savage Garden of being
Into the astral plane
I am a shaman
A witch
A child of The Divine
And I sing haunting lullabies under the night skies
Symphonies of pounding heart
And rhythms of powerful soul
Set ablaze under moonlight
And the Gods listen
They listen
To the sounds of my spirit

As intended.. a pairing of zen and peace

I love it when I recently finished a piece of work and I find someone else is on the same astral plane as me. I normally don’t upload my own work to the blog, but I just completed a photo and then came across this poem by Paul that evoked the same feelings in me that inspired my own piece. I hope you enjoy.

muted whispers of the songs of seabirds by Pj Djennel

muted whispers of the songs of seabirds by pj djennel

As intended by Paul (Quixote) Alleyne

From the highest mountain top
I can see thru the clarity of my mind’s eye
I can see the undulating valleys
and meandering, shimmering rivers;
where men in boats haul in their catch
I can see the deep, silent ocean off in the far distance reflecting the warm, evening sun
I can hear birds chirping as they enjoy their time of play
I can see kids playing under the waterfalls;
swimming and bathing in shallow, crystal clear pools of waters
I can see broad color ranges of foliage for miles and miles, and miles
I can see men and women toiling happily in the fields,
harvesting the crops for the feast yet to come

There is no hunger here
No debilitating disease here
No fear of war here
Just an abundance of love and sharing and contentment

Isn’t this the way you intended it to be?
Yes, you answer.
I concur
.

Friday Feature

When I read this earlier this week, I thought, this is fabulous and I just need to feature and share this with all of you:

Nakedly Mindless by Matthew Robert

She undressed my mind
Peeling away
At the memories
Of when we were
So in love
I was better off
Letting her
Undress me entirely
Leaving me naked
To stand
Without an excuse –
Shamefully
I cross my arms
In hope
To cover my mind
But she
Stared right
Into my heart

© Matthew Robert

And here’s an image to go with it:

Not Falling Waving by rowanmacs

Not Falling Waving by rowanmacs

Not Falling Waving by © rowanmacs

I love the slightly blurry mysterious feel of this image and the way it draws you in. It has a really positive feel to it as well rather than a morbid one, which is a hard concept to achieve with this kind of image. The colours and textures all work together to make this an image to remember. 🙂 Make sure you check out the larger image on RB. It’s fab!

Enjoy your weekend. 🙂

Meditation in Green

Meike Boynton, who just recently won our “Zen” challenge, had the opportunity to pick a piece of art from Touched By Fire RedBubble Group to be featured and talk about how/why it touched her. She chose this lovely piece by Linaji, which also placed in the top 10 of the same challenge.

meditation of green by linaji

Mieke says, “As a child, I spent a lot of time in the Australian Bush, and the place I most loved to go was at the back of our property on land that was State Forest. After following a meandering path alongside a trickling clear-water creek, climbing over moss-laden logs and under umbrella-like tree-ferns, you would end up at a cool, dark place, where water emerged (literally) from a small, rocky cliff-face and tumbled down into a pool below, where little-leafed plants floated on the surface of the water and birds flitted in and out of the shadows. It was always a place where I could become one with the natural world around me. Linaji’s image vividly brings to mind the sounds, smells, sights and feelings of those visits. It is a deliciously evocative image.”

Delicious indeed. Thanks to Mieke for contributing this wonderful feature to our blog, and thanks to Lina for sharing such a beautiful and inspiring piece.

TBF Challenge – Waiting

“Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worse kind of suffering.” Paulo Coelho This challenge was looking for the4 best works depicting the feeling of waiting. Congratulations to Cynthia Lund Torroll for her piece “She Waits”, which took first place in the challenge.

she waits by cynthia lund torroll

Features – 19/09/2010 – All mixed up

Rather than having a theme this week, I decided to just choose artwork and writings because they touched me in some way. A theme can be interesting and add to the features but sometimes it can also feel limiting because some artwork/writings are excluded because they don’t fit into the theme. So here’s my random selection.

Note: All artwork and writing is copyrighted by their respective creators. Do not copy or publish any of the art/writing on these pages in any way shape or form without the written permission of the authors/creators.

There’s something mesmerising about this image. I love the texture of the dress and the effect it has on the eye at leading us to the nest and eggs. Beautifully done. 🙂

un~PROTECTED by © jacqleen

un~PROTECTED by jacqleen

un~PROTECTED by jacqleen

I love the raw emotion and the acceptance of the truth and what is in this poem. It touches me deeply because it’s so rare that we accept what is.

It’s broken by © JetMannHenry

I want to shout it to the stars.
Scream it to the sun.
Recite it to the gods.

I am in love!

But the lumps in my throat threaten it’s beauty.
and the tears in my eyes leave me blind.

I love him!

But,

…it’s broken.
I am broken
and
I am breaking him.

I love flowers but so often images of flowers don’t seem to be more than pretty and don’t have much that touches the viewer other than the fact that it’s pretty. This image touched me because there’s something special, ethereal about it, something that leads you further and makes you wonder. Perfect!

Or So the Story Goes by © Laurie Search

Or So the Story Goes by Laurie Search

Or So the Story Goes by Laurie Search

This poem by Mia is wonderful in it’s spiritual depth and acceptance. There’s no more I can say, read for yourself! 🙂

healing by © Mia Rose

I am sitting quietly
at the altar of now
breathing deeply
cupping us
in the prayer of my hands
giving thanks
for the healing that pours
from the cool cracked moon
of my essence
opening itself
softly
gently
reverently
to welcome the holy sun
exploding its fiery force
in my being
fusing my grateful parts

I love the blues and greens in this wonderful image by vampvamp. There’s something healing and serene about it.

PH/VV by © vampvamp

PH/VV by vampvamp

PH/VV by vampvamp

This is so utterly magical and beautiful. It takes you from the first line and carries you with you all the way back. Wonderful!

libelula (verde) by © Erika

have you ever felt the green of the sea and how it feels to see it see you?

I have felt it
in your eyes:

you
feel like the green
the sunlight
escapes
between the leaves’ breath

and

you’re born in my mind

like
spring
from
autumn
skipping winter

and all I see
are verdant palaces
built from the same material
your heart is made of
leaving a trail of breath and moss –

I can almost catch your scent

dancing

whispering

through dragonfly wings
so invisibly visible
like an internal sigh

you leave your mind-print
on my own
and I’m reminded of

how close to me
you always are

even though

you move like a shadow
through the forest
you’ve built for me
to fly in

you should see
how beautifully the sun
springs off the trees
like rain from clouds

like thought from dream
into forgetfulness

when the sun rises and before it goes to sleep
leaving the stars in its wake:

for it is in the moonlight
I often carve secret myths into the tree trunks
when I awaken the whisper
that sounds like your voice

haunting
the mighty oaks

moving so swiftly

weaving in and out of the night

into my mouth

through my heart

down to the abyss

where you settle like gravity

and I

become your heartbeat

And from light to darkness… A compelling image by Randy. Something to wonder and think about…

Fury of the Fallen by © Randy Monteith

Fury of the Fallen by Randy Monteith

Fury of the Fallen by Randy Monteith

A dark poem by Anthea with an ending that leads us back to the light. Wonderful haunting words.

Melancholy by © Anthea Slade

Engulfed in the ice of melancholy,
sadness dissects my joy
into sections of discontent.

My aching heart stutters and
craves for days that are all blue
with shadows that unlock spirits acquiescence.

The unrest of sadness tortures thoughts
hi jacking emotional harmony,
spinning a fabrication of forgotten dreams.

An unrelenting grey sky sadistically
uncoils my heart, poisoning my veins
with suspicions snake called self doubt.

Blossoms burst as spring struggles to take hold,
the cold taunts each morn while shiver sinks
her angry teeth inside my goose bumped flesh,
a vampire, a red eye with black blood.

Frozen creativity rumbles disturbed
by light deprivation followed by night.
Salty tears sting itchy eyes that blur disrupted by the
knowledge that sadness is beautiful.

And if you dream it,
happiness and sunlight will come.

This is an amazing atmospheric image by Tori. It makes me wonder about the story behind it. Did they just get out of the spooky house and now look back? Are they going into the house? Beautiful and mysterious.

Faith by © Tori Yule

Faith by tori yule

Faith by tori yule

A heart wrenching story by Alenka. For a brief moment in time we share an intimate encounter. Wonderfully atmospheric.

from ‘A Shattering of Glass’ ….. by © Alenka Co

The sound of a man crying is the most frightening sound in the world. I saw my father cry once, and once the corporal.

His crying is muted, like it is being muffled under the covers, but still it chills me. The instinctive urge, as it was with my father and the corporal too, is to rush in and comfort but will he want that? Sometimes when we are reduced to tears we want to be left alone and sometimes we are crying out for someone to hold us, to comfort us and tell us everything will be all right. But for him it can never be all right.

I sit up, my knees huddled to my chest, listening to that awful keening sound. In the end I have to go.

I don’t knock. He doesn’t hear me pad barefoot to the bed. As I thought, he is under the covers, curled into a ball. I kneel on the floor and firmly place a hand where I think his shoulder must be. A slight startled flinch barely interrupts his grief’s flow. I let my whole arm come slowly down over him. How small he feels, bundled up like this.

When he doesn’t reject me I bring my other arm around him and rest my head on his heaving body. I don’t know for how long we stay like that, his breath a series of jagged sobs, his body shuddering under my head and chest. Gradually he quietens and stills and lies almost silent beneath me. Neither of us speaks. I hold him until I think by his breathing that he has finally fallen asleep.

I love the whimsy of this and the concept and thought behind this fabulous image.

What You Think on Grows by © AngiandSilas

What You Think on Grows by AngiandSilas

What You Think on Grows by AngiandSilas

There is so much strength and confidence in this poem by Rhenastarr. It’s fabulous and wonderful and seemed the perfect way to end this week’s features.

SHE by © Rhenastarr

Tattered edges of a
Shattered life became
Whispers soughing
With the wild winds of
Yesterday
Brushing the memory
Across the cracked
Heart and soul that fills
The empty vessel of
What was
Bringing home the withered
Hopes of forgotten dreams
Illusions planted deep, their
Pieces littering the barren
Fields of muted visions
Sharp edges
Torn and splintered from the
Sight of reason
Happiness and regret merge
Coating the walls of her
Being with the painful ashes
Of a fire that consumed too
Quickly and left the scars from
Flames that singed her
Helpless heart
She was swept in a tumultuous
Wash of feelings that left her
Breathless and bewildered
Would tomorrow ever bring
Her peace
Would the night ever hold
Nothing but shadows
In her heart a tiny flicker
As the flame of her being
Refused to die
She would not let
The past
Sweep her among the
Littered remains of love’s loss
Her hopes and dreams had
Been broken, battered and bruised
But she would pick up the
Pieces
She would repair her damaged
Remains
Stand before her mirror and
See victory reflected in her
Eyes
In the smile that now caressed
Her mouth
She would see before her
A woman who would survive

I hope you enjoyed this week’s features. Please check out all the artists’ pages and let them know how wonderful their writings and artwork is. 🙂

mine by veuvenoire

i

chose
you

to feel that passion
that unites
forever.

i slide my fingers under your collar.
every inch of your skin makes me shiver.
my breathing slows down.
energy flows from your body.

i run my fingers gently over your face.
my eyes get lost in yours.
i open my lips and tiptoe to reach yours.
i push your skull gently, making your neck bend.
your face moves towards mine.

my glance dives deeper into the fathomless blue of your soul.
my mind touches your innermost – sensing nervousness .
‘don’t get distracted my sweetlove,’ i whisper ‘this kiss will be for eternity’.
i sense you relaxing and feel your breath deeper and slower.
our lips touch.
i close my eyes.

i am all sense of touch now.
touch your body, touch your mind, touch your tongue.
touch you all inside and out.
time dissolves.
space dissolves and i bite your lip to feel you are real.
you wince slightly… iron taste in my mouth.
now you are mine.

A lovely tidbit I found today. A beautifully intoxicating spell of wanting someone to fully enter your whole existence. I am happy to welcome veuvenoire to Redbubble and to our TBF Group.