Precious Art

At Lake Tahoe with DJ, Alyssa and Larry. We sit and ponder, silent for a moment. I remember beautiful things. It’s a strategy I use to keep from crumbling. That doesn’t mean I don’t cry. A focus on all the beauty that surrounds keeps me walking.

The candles in the kitchen of my tiny house with its Karastan carpet in the middle of the floor. The candles making a soft light.

The bonsai on my window sill surrounded by tiny white lights and Ellen’s painted rock. The bonsai is a gift from my dear friends in the Story Sisterhood.

The orchid, tiny, tall and slender, a gift from Mead during the days following Donnie’s decision to move. Move on.

The card, artful, in blues and greens and purple and violet with a touch of yellow and orange water color marks and thin lines. From Monika, a woman I’ve never met in person, only online, sharing writing and colorful visions, vibrations of kindred spirits, a reaching out, her sympathy card, with its heart felt message.

Remembering the fire in the back yard fire pit two nights ago. Smoking from green kindling scavenged from the curb instead of walks in the words. Our strategy for urban fires is yet to be developed.

This morning wet glistens from the rain last night that kept Highlin’ awake and us through the thunder.

The golden light from the antique lamp on my dining room table, covered with the old lace table cloth I shibori dyed in fuchsia and yellow green shades.

I know the difference between satisfied and dissatisfied. I follow the good feelings a particular thought gives me and I witness he goodness that follows. The beautiful memorial for Donnie.

Tryin to go back and figure out the past is of no avail. Better to go forward from where I am. In my Darley House. Sunlight streaming in. New botanical print fabrics drying.