I lay like a compass, digits accusing the sunrise. Rain drops abseil the window and flinch through the hurt cries.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Art for the Heart is headed to Jonathan’s Place (JP)! Yep, we have found our first facility to implement my art program. JP is an emergency shelter for abused/neglected children. The facility currently has an art room but no supplies so that is where I come in!
Orientation to the facility is October 3 and I’m hoping that the week following orientation we will be able to begin piloting the program. I will be working with two different groups of children at JP and I am currently looking for volunteers to assist with the youngest group that ranges from 4-7 years of age. My plan is to visit with this group twice a month and I will need one volunteer for each session.
Below is the Art for the Heart volunteer description. If you or someone you know meets the criteria and would like to donate two hours per month, please let me know ASAP.
QUALIFICATIONS: Volunteer must be a loving, patient and compassionate individual that works well with children undergoing life transitions or crisis. Volunteer should be accepting and prepared to relate to children of diverse socio-economic and cultural backgrounds. Volunteer should be a positive role model for children.
There will also be opportunities to help prepare supplies for each class, however no orientation is required for that. Please message me at email@example.com if you or someone you know would like to assist with program or if you would like to make a supply donation.
I can’t tell you how very excited I am that this is finally taking off. I have been pretty emotional the past couple of days. I am so blessed and so anxious to spend time with children in need. There is no price tag for distracting these kids from whatever obstacles they are facing, even if just for a few hours per month.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
“I’m tired!” she exclaimed. Surfacing from behind a book, one which she had hid behind for days –at least it started that way. But those days had turned to weeks and weeks to months and well, you know how that goes. The book slammed shut, falling onto the hardwood floor but not before meeting the wall at speeds that would leave Greg Maddux scratching his head. She sat up straight in bed and bolted towards the red sofa that sat in the middle of the room like a bull facing off with a matador, a very costly bull. Sure, most would pay top dollar for said red sofa with its plush pillows; after all, the salesman stated that sitting in it was like being enveloped in love. And who doesn’t want to be swathed by such a strong emotion? But it wasn’t love to her, it wasn’t that at all. She had a way about her, a way of transforming objects into holding cells for her thoughts and ideas. Sadly this was a place where all affirmations would meet their maker; it was a place of sadness and madness, all rolled up into one and shoved deep into the fibers of each cushion by her fists as she cried “WHY!!” over and over again.
“Why do I complicate everything and everyone?!?!” she thought, sobbing so hard, choking on tears. Every decision made in the past was today’s destiny. Every stroke of hair, every picture captured, every word spoken, every thought on paper, every time she darted from one room to another searching for answers in the dead silence…it had all culminated to this, to this crashed soul gasping for air after suffocating her own cries. “What am I hiding from? Why am I shielding my anguish? Why do I break myself down further than wrecked?” she hurriedly slapped her hair behind her ears, pushing her fingertips deep into her face, a little pain sometimes shocked her back to a state of semi-normalcy. But she didn’t flinch. Could it be? Could it truly be? Could she possibly be sick and tired of being sick and tired? “God, I’m not a madwoman, I’m not, I’m just not. God, I am your child, you know this, why am I telling you something you know already? Dear sweet Lord, save me, save me, save me from my torment, sometimes it seems that I am in too deep” she prayed.
She held her tears for a moment, stopping them dead in their tracks; sitting still she waited for God’s declaration that her crying and her prayers had not fallen deaf. But the only thing that enveloped her on the red sofa was solitude. “Of course, of course, of fricking course there is no recourse for my emotional flailing” she said as she wiped away an evading tear. She knew she couldn’t blame her broken heart on anyone, not even on God. “How is that fair?” she thought. “This is fair. This IS fair. THIS is fair. THIS IS FAIR” she processed. “This is absolutely fair…you hear me God, and you’re laughing at my dumb ass, aren’t you?” She chuckled and let her eyes release their captors. Had she cried and screamed herself to reason? Was her self-deprecation his answer? And how is that valid comfort? “I ask entirely too many questions, don’t I, God?” She exhaled, not knowing when she would return to that place on the red sofa. For now though, a band aid over her heart would have to do, life wasn’t stopping to aid her tantrums. “Thank you for answering, God –although you have a really funny way about yourself, but you know I appreciate a deity with soundless theatrical poise. I’ll save you a seat on this red sofa…the salesman said it would envelop you like love. I think he’s onto something.”
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
I have a photo contest going on my Facebook photography page, Through These Eyes. The best caption for this photo wins an 8x10 of their choice from my gallery. Contest ends Wednesday, September 21. Click on the image to join in on the fun!
This is one of my favorite captures ever. I don’t think I’ve ever posted it. I actually shot this with my old Sony Cybershot. But I still love it –these little feet speak volumes I think. They are the feet on a statue at Roselawn Cemetery that is kneeling next to Jesus. They are the feet of a child. Very pudgy but very innocent. Beautiful to look at through my lens or just through these eyes.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Today is the 3rd anniversary of the passing of my friend Aleida Franklin. She was an amazing scrapbooker and friend to so many. Her untimely and tragic death devastated the scrapbooking community in 2008. I still think of her–especially when I’m struggling with a 12x12 layout. It is not my forte but something Aleida always knocked out of the park. I miss her often.
This is a beautifully haunting photograph that she posted on her blog the week before she passed. What a predictive message.
The Artistic Journey is in two weeks and Maya Road posted a challenge to everyone that will be attending. We were to design a tag with a picture of ourselves and list three fun facts. I listed 6. It’s not my best work, but I was in a rush trying to get this done by the deadline. I posted my picture with three minutes to spare. LOL.