To me a flame signifies power, remembrance, passion, energy and creativity;
We give power to the metaphysical flame from the light within us,
Without our intent the power of the flame diminishes,
Peace is possible by combining individual calls into a united voice,
Join me in sharing your inner flame for peace.
(c) Robert Jones 2013, All Rights Reserved
It’s a self fulfilling state of being,
not to be switched on and off to be kind,
it needs patience, caring, presence of mind,
active listening, compassion and seeing;
sharing from my heart enriches I find,
the soul, while relieving the daily grind,
and empathy holds the gift of freeing.
Tender caress of a warm, gentle breeze
carries a message from the divine,
“use feather light fingertips of kindly hands,
bring forth light from within to share, to shine”,
I drift away on barely rocking seas,
reflecting on deeds; my learning expands.
(c) Robert Jones 2013, All Rights Reserved
It is a few decades since I have written a poem. To my knowledge I’ve never attempted a sonnet. Writing “Kindness” has been a fulfilling experience both in articulating what kindness means for me and in having the opportunity to learn a new skill. I took the photograph in 2012, knowing that one day I would have the opportunity to share the image of the kindest fingertips I know.
Your feedback would be appreciated.
http://everydaygurus.com/2012/12/30/monthly-peace-challenge-acts-of-kindness/
In the mid ’90s I was living on the outskirts of Worcester, UK. While out for a stroll I came across some farm buildings that were being converted into a restaurant. Being England, a pleasant sunny afternoon quickly turned dark as rain clouds rolled in from the Malvern Hills. I decided to head home; on turning the corner of the farm I noticed a number of framed portraits on the side of the road leaning against the side of a red brick barn. The pictures were in various states of decay suffering from water damage and mildew.
By now large rain drops began falling, so I hastily grabbed one the photographs and headed home. I was able to lightly clean the picture and restore the frame.
My female ancestors have a curious assortment of first names from Doris through Hilda to Emmelina. As far as I was aware none were named Maud, so as the the unknown woman in the picture looked like someone I wouldn’t mind having as an ancestor she became my adopted Aunt Maud. Years later while researching relatives in my family tree I found I had a great grand mother called Matilda. Maud is a medieval form of Matilda, spooky………..
Aunt Maud hangs above a stone mantle piece in the kitchen. The fireplace would have housed the range when the house was built around the turn of the 20th century. A fitting place for my great grandmother’s namesake to watch over us.
Inspired by the pictures posted on JanasJournal.com, this is the first time I have posted an artwork on my blog.
Using an app to paint is something new for me as my preferred mediums are pencil and watercolours. I created the above Seeds image while doodling with ArtStudio for iPad around a year ago. I find the layers function great for creating depth.
Being mid-Summer in Australia we are celebrating Litha, the Summer solstice while the northern hemisphere celebrates Yuletide. Over the last few days the water temperature in the pool has been a comfortable 28-30oC.
Afternoons spent frolicking with the undines of the pool flow perfectly into evenings on the deck surrounded by the gnomes of the Earth while celebrating the salamanders by candlelight and honouring the sylphs of the air with sandalwood incense.
Blessed be to all.
I count myself fortunate to be able to enjoy the pockets of green in an urban landscape.
I feel drawn to places like this. While it appears to be the same each time I visit, there is always something I haven’t noticed before that captures my imagination.
When considering time in terms of months of the year I visualize an ellipse. Like a racetrack with January and December marking the beginning and end of the cycle. For me January to June tends to be a gentler gradient and a slower pace than July to December. By mid December I’m in need of a break.
The years in my life appear as a stack of ellipses joined together in an upward spiral. When I was a child a year seemed to last forever, so using this perception of time the first ellipse located at the bottom would be the widest. The ellipses reduce in size as they coil up forming an elliptical cone.
This is the path of my life through time, I can see where I’ve been and where I am now. I can make a guess at what will be happening in the next few months, beyond this the path is unclear. I wonder if my journey will continue to a peak or will the years appear to pass more slowly as I move into old age. In this scenario the path of my life could end up looking like a lopsided hourglass.
What does the shape of your life through time look like?
Born on July, 1st, 2010, Stan’s loving, playful, bossy nature keeps us on our toes. His favorite toys are a platted rope and a ball that he will happily bring back when thrown, after he’s killed them of course. Stan positions himself close to us, facing out and is quick to alert us to potential visitors. He has an amusing way of alternately raising his eyebrows while lying close to the ground. We’re never quite sure if this is bemusement at our antics or a sign that he’s analyzing our behavior. Attentive and independent, Stan’s always ready for a tummy rub.
Imagine a tree with a trunk that twists this way and that, swathed in a maze of deeply cracked bark. It’s gnarled dark brown branches jut out in a contorted mass, effortlessly supporting clusters of ballerina shaped blooms gently bobbing in the breeze.
A gale develops that catches the branches, causing them to creak and groan as the blossom is torn from their grasp. A silky blizzard of white petals tinged with pink dance in downward spirals as they are carried to the ground by the whistling wind.
Order returns to this snow dome scene, the skeletal tree appears naked in the Spring light. Gently undulating white chiffon forms a shifting circle surrounding the base of it’s tortured bulk. White, fluffy powder puff shapes speed across the azure sky above.
Space to Reconnect
Being an introvert I am not good at investing time and energy into maintaining friendships. My partner performs the role of social secretary to perfection. A chance encounter in a pub provided the catalyst for us to organise a space where five people could come together and reconnect.
Preparation for such an event is usually marred by sore feet from spending hours in the kitchen. On this occasion, a simple menu of Caprese salad, Lasagne al forno, Tiramisu and a few bottles of Italian wine made this the smoothest running and easiest of dinner parties.
The resulting conversations around life, health issues, death, politics, religion and discrimination carried us into the wee hours of the morning.
In reminiscing we worked out that two of us had known each other for almost 30 years. I have carefully looked after the gift I received from them on my 21st birthday.
We have led separate lives with our paths crossing at various points in time. We agreed that our the perception of each other is a memory of them, it does not take into account people, places, illness and events that have impacted on them.
The outcome of the evening can be summed up in one of my partner’s favourite expressions “a quality moment”.
theINFP 