We must be mindful of the energy that our words create. Because every word we utter is a prayer, we must always speak in a manner that promotes love and harmony.
– Iyanla Vanzan
Text and image credit Iyanla Vanzant htpps://www.facebook.com/DrIyanlaVanzant/
My friend, who originally was my pen-pal, and I met through a magazine, when both of us were looking for help with our anxiety/panic attacks, etc. I actually wrote to 3 ladies, and this was the person that I could relate to.
We went from writing to one another to phoning, especially when one of us needed help. We found out that when we talked to each other, we both could totally understand what the other one was going through.
She called on my birthday, but I missed the call, so this afternoon she phoned back. She has a medical problem right now, so I listened, and gave her my honest opinion. Then I told her how hard life is for me lately, and that I am fighting against anxiety, and panic disorder. She told me how well I am doing, and that I had everything under control.
Other people…
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Is it necessary for an artist to know why he paints, or a ballerina to know why she is possessed by a passion to ballet? Need a nightingale know why she serenades the sleeping world or the moon understand why he is enraptured by the blue earth, around which he revolves day and night, yet never dares to embrace her for the fear they will collide and die?
There is no want in them to fathom the mystery of those passions that are beyond comprehension.
Then must a lowly writer such as I question why I write?
I know not.
And yet, when the night is starless and witchy, when all is lonesome like a solitary wolf weeping under the moon, when the world is so silent that I can hear the pencil moving against paper, I seek answers…
…to understand why of all the noble trades there are, of…
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It is not my hand,
but the ink that writes of you
nor is it my young imagination
that begs to draw you
but the restless paintbrush
that traces your silhouette.
When I sing of you,
know that my piano forces me to
and not because I have made you my muse –
a pure object of my fancy I come to
when I lack expression,
for it is not so.
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Nature videographer and regular Tara Tanaka (Vimeo page here, flickr page here) has a new video, one that features some of my favorite waterfowl. I think it’s one of the best videos she’s done to date, so be sure to watch. Tara’s Vimeo notes are indented. I’ll be speaking in Tallahassee next month and have been invited to visit Tara’s home and see her famous blind. Perhaps I’ll see my first wood duck in the wild!
The Great Backyard Bird Count, an annual, worldwide event, took place on February 14-17 this year, and over a quarter million lists have been submitted to eBird.org so far. The second day was a spectacular winter day in Florida, and I spent the first two and the last three hours of daylight in my photo blind, which is currently located in our backyard cypress swamp that we manage as a wildlife sanctuary…
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flaming clouds
slowly pass a still
palm tree
***
Photo: Phoenix Sunset, c.b.w. 2019
Words: haiku, c.b.w. 2020
like a circle in a spiral
like a wheel within a wheel
never ending or beginning
on an ever spinning reel
as the images unwind
like the circles of your mind…
Noel Harrison, Sting, Dusty Springfield, Alison Moyet etc
Music by Michel LeGrand
BY ART MARKMAN
The word “attention” in psychology is a catchall referring to any process that influences what information from the world breaks through and affects your thinking. The term “attention span” is the amount of time that you can spend working on a particular task, whether that is writing a report, reading a book or article, or listening to a talk.
Many people feel like their attention span is too short. They can’t stay focused on one thing for too long before they start doing something else. Your attention span can be influenced by internal factors (your own brain leads you to shift from one task to another) or by external factors (something in the outside world calls to…
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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
copyright Francis Barker 2020
Image and Poem Attribution © goffjamesart/photography/poetry
Click here to read more haiku poems by Goff James.
All rights reserved
while you’re in the waiting room
gathering the nerve
to be seen,
seen for who you really are,
remember that the wait
is not time wasted.
part of being seen
is understanding the parts of us
before we show them off.
and once you know
each and every part
and know that all the others
will see you
with the same eyes that I see you
then the wait will be over
and you will no longer
have the fear
of being seen.
smile or frown
heaven or hell
admiration or scorn
heaven or hell
peace or discord
heaven or hell
acceptance or criticism
heaven or hell
tranquility or anger
heaven or hell
kind or cruel
heaven or hell
love or hate
heaven or hell
Which will it be for us today, heaven or hell? We really do create our reality. No one else does. Even when walking through land mines created by someone else, we have the ability to remain securely calm. With persistent practice we all can maintain our sense of smooth sailing if we choose to do so.
That means not hooking into the storm someone else is creating. That is on them, not us! When we try to reason, debate or reach out with love in the midst of that storm, that storm will only intensify. The irate person wants only to fight. Our hearts will notify us when…
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Dusting my macro lens off, metaphorically speaking that is, I went outside to see what I possibly could find as treasure. Our bushes out front caught my eye so I drew in closer to them. Sure enough, I began to see the possibilities of what I could create. Looking at and studying the terrain, therein I began my adventure.
I do not like to admit this, but I think my shooting in manual focus days are over while taking pictures with my macro lens. I don’t seem to be able to still this body enough to have shake-less shots. I’m sighing as I write these words, believe me. Being the optimist I am, however, I’ll see how things go as my macro season progresses. Perhaps the shaking will lessen as I strengthen my macro muscles.
By the time I returned inside our house, my toes were truly good and frozen…
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Wonders of Wandering 