A Blank Piece of Paper January 11, 2016Posted by Yvonne in Dynamics of Resistance, Indirect Approach.
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She sat before a blank piece of paper. A creative writing project was to be turned in. Something was bothering her. It was blocking her. She tried to think of beautifully creative scenes, wonderful people and fantastic lives of story-book characters. The need and want to write something beautiful throbbed within her, but was overruled by the drudgery of her everyday life. It was told her, “Write of what you know.” She felt void like a deep empty cavern and wondered of what it was she knew.
Her mind set itself wandering about the bottom, at the deepest part of the canyon that she pictured as her soul. At first it stood stricken at the narrowness of the place. It crawled forward, fearful of what it might run into, but eager as it was always about something unknown. Her mind stumbled in the beginning. It gathered courage and gaped as it found that the narrow cavern her mind had once perceived expanded to enormous proportions as it walked.
As her mind rambled along through her soul, it observed many wonderful things. Some were new and others, so ancient they were nearly impossible to discern from the stone walls of the canyon.
As her mind wandered it began to feel at home as it adjusted to the shadow cast by some unseen projection, for the cliffs appeared to vanish. Presently, her mind felt itself so engrossed by the things it perceived that it quite forgot what it had come to do.
Numerous memories inhabited the canyon. Flashes of countless days spent lying on a patch of grass sat latent within a grove of lifeless threes that had lost the fruit of innocence. A pool of water held the cherished reflection of a life once dreamed of. Occasionally her mind came upon a bud plucked from the earth before it had the chance to blossom. These flowers were those of compassion and tenderness. The truth invaded her mind. She knew that she did not allow herself to be compassionate and at that moment she learned compassion. She felt relieved. Her mind rubbed it’s eyes as a small ray illuminated the now endless soul.
As it walked, her mind learned, and the rays grew. She knew, and she knew that she knew. She experienced great jou in the satisfaction she found. She realized that her soul was not merely a deep empty cavern, but discovered the realistic nature of it. She learned that her soul was indeed a meadow of ever unfolding beautiful scenes, wonderful memories, and fantastic storybook characters. She did not have to pretend; she wrote of what she knew – how all this came about, before a blank piece of paper.
Note: This I wrote in 8th grade English class with Mrs. Tarpinian. It seems particularly apropos these days.
Magic Fortune September 7, 2013Posted by Yvonne in beginner blogger, Continuity of Source, Dynamics of Resistance, Indirect Approach, Word in Action.
Tags: collage, fortune, magic
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Recently I did a collage of Chinese fortunes I’d found when helping a friend clear his home before moving years ago … and just sent it to him.
And he asked me why I did it.
I think they might have been in a basket in the kitchen or something, and just struck me as a collection … so I saved them and had intended to get them to him some day. I mean, he saved them so, they must have been important …
Why don’t we just read a fortune and then toss it? Sometimes, we read them aloud to our dinner partners, end with “… in bed!”, compare, have a good laugh … and leave them at the Chinese restaurant or toss them along with the take-out boxes.
But if there’s something in it, we keep them. Hope? Wonder? Perhaps an avoidance of the potential dire consequences should we fail to honor their oriental magic, fueled by the mystery of how this particular message could have come to us at this particular time and place … the trick our brain does to make it seem the “perfect message for me right now” … and those are the ones we keep. The magic ones.
As I look around, I’ve got a few I can point to right off … among the collection of items forming the centerpiece on my dining room table: “You will soon be visited by an old friend”. Taped to my drawing table at an angle where only I can see them and only when I’m actually sitting in the chair: “Don’t underestimate yourself. Your social skills are needed by others at this time.” (that one came with startup #2 of 4) and “You will receive unexpected support over the next week. Accept graciously.” I’m sure there are others lurking in my many books, jewelry drawer, kitchen and glove box.
And he asked me why I did return them? Well, obviously, It was because of the magic.
To return the magic that had surely been important at a time and place. I’m not sure if it still holds, but I gotta say, putting together the collage and then selecting the images to fill in did seem like the weaving together of powerful threads he had surely gathered, however done – whether jokingly during dinner parties, a lone night with late take-out, or purposely brought home from social outings of one type or another.
So that’s why I did it.
And now I’m wondering what other fortunes I have stashed here and there which are quietly doing their work … put in motion by an inner impetus stimulated into resonance with the universe.
Legend Passed: Angelblurt July 4, 2013Posted by Yvonne in Continuity of Source, Events, Power of Dialogue.
Tags: doug engelbart
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About two weeks ago I was thinking, “I should stop by and see Doug” … and I didn’t make the time.
This morning, of course, it’s too late.
Yesterday’s post about ex-pressing appreciations is apt.
Nothing more to say … other than I’ll never forget the fun we had playing with each others’ names.
Doug was complaining that people were always misspelling his name, and so I started teasing him about it and turned Engelbart into Angelburp, Dangleparts and all kinds of other goofy expressions. We came up with the idea of him working with kids around innovation … we called them Angle-blurts – you just see if you can look from a new angle and then blurt out what you found!
Then he messed with my name calling me: Eve on Bridges, which was actually apropos of why he called me to work with him: an ability to listen that allows communication across boundaries. I had such a great time with him that day that I was smiling and pondering and creating as I was driving along, missed my exit and found myself heading across the Bay Bridge – had to get off on Treasure Island to turn around – made me laugh because he had called that one so well.
What a day. People really do make a difference for each other … in the most momentary ways.
Magic Miracles Missed: Appreciating Friendship July 3, 2013Posted by Yvonne in Evolution of We, Power of Dialogue, Word in Action.
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I have had an intense week in many ways but do want to acknowledge your note. It touched me deeply. I can’t really find the words to say how I responded to it … it touched me deeply – that’s the best I can come up with. For some reason it is difficult for me to acknowledge, realize, that I might be important to someone. I don’t say this lightly, it’s hard to admit.Thank you for sending it.”
It’s probably not the only one of it’s kind addressed to you. There are probably others in the world, and not all from me. Ponder that!
Krankin March 2, 2012Posted by Yvonne in Events.
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I just now found out that a dear friend passed … 2.5 years ago … and I didn’t even know it till now.
How does that happen?
This morning I’m listening to some music he gave me… and just about to write him a note of thanks, was hunting for his email (since I just changed computers) when I found this …
Bummer. Major. I’m feeling it.
Somehow I thought that he was always with me. That I could call and share anytime. That next time he was up in Berkeley he’d bring me those amazingly fragrant lilies for the dining room and complain that my piano was out of tune.
Conversations we’d had and trusting he was there kept me going through the sometimes very hard times of my first year in acting school. What he told me about being an artist and the encouragement he was for me in that world are immeasurable. Who he was as a dedicated artist. What he said to me about my gift. How he sang my poetry back to me and asked for more. How could I have lost touch with him in life so completely? Damn.
Too many dear ones, too far afield. And my days are too filled with “busyness” to be with all those whose memories pass my thoughts daily.
The world is suddenly much too large.
And the moments of connection much too infrequent.
I need a village.
Oh, the song I’m listening to … over and over and over again for the last 3 hours? “People Get Ready”
Tues Days August 15, 2011Posted by Yvonne in Distinctions, Poems.
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Tuesday (i/ˈtjuːzdeɪ/ or /ˈtjuːzdi/ or /ˈtuːzdeɪ/) is a day of the week occurring after Monday and before Wednesday. According to international standard ISO 8601, it is the second day of the week, although in some traditions it is the third.
“Tuesdays are only one of the types of days there are
You may also encounter during your life-time plenty of other types
So if any particular Tuesday causes or seems to bring undue grief or dis-stress, take heart:
for a Tuesday can be and usually is the harbinger of one or other of those other types of days for which you yearn for-getting the fact that on any particular Tuesday you are in fact and irreversibly moving directly in line to-ward such a future of other types of days that, should you obtain to the faintest inkling of, you would have to in a moment of joyous fright faint immediately at the expansive and illuminating opening surely coming to-ward you via this very specific and particular Tuesday in which you feel so mistakenly unfortunate to currently occur.
This I’ll warrant you from the depths of my soul, which, as you know is in fact and in matter immeasurably and irreconcilably deep.
Yours, truly (for whose else would I be?)
Lopsided Notion February 11, 2010Posted by Yvonne in Drawings, Dynamics of Resistance.
Tags: art, beauty, notion, self-expression, wabi sabi
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some notions are lop-sided, but beautiful none-the-less.
Even a lack of evidence of some kind of notion of “perfection” is it’s own beauty.
I have a dear friend who has been a fine artist for more than 60 years. Spending time with him I realized that the term “self-expression” is redundant: there’s no self with out expression and there’s no expression without self.
It’s ALL art – every way you move, every thing you say, the way your foot goes out and touches the ground when you walk, the way one looks when they are just waiting in line … even the way you resist or ignore or make mis-takes in life – they are all still made. It’s all a creation, intentioned or not …
And I guess what I’m learning these days is about being willing to be the creator of a life, this life … looking at and seeing what’s happening, now I think : do i like that over here … or over there … or maybe not at all?
Choosing and consciously creating … and loving and welcoming it all, even the lop-sided ones. Then continuing to create … tuning, trying, practice and patience … till soon … who knows?