Posts Tagged ‘Sisterhood’


July 25, 2014

Wildflower Haven 004 (1024x683) (2)

Not long ago,

I went with my sister to the cutover land

We drove out an elderly two-lane road

in a leisurely way.

Our focus was to each side of the road.

Our focus was wildflowers.

Mary is rather an expert at this;

she takes after our mother.

Mama took her four children on special outings,

frequently ending up at the cutover land,

Her eagle eye would scan the thinned-out field,

noting the charred bark on the tall pines.

This was an ideal place for Orchids, Wood-lilies,

or whatever seasonal jewel she might spy.

Mary, too, has the eye and the sensitized soul

that told her when

to pull her old Honda onto the precarious shoulder.

We spilled out,

disregarding the honks and hurled imprecations of drivers

in too great a haste to notice the flowers.

Some time later

we reassured a state patrolman…

who presumed these two elderly ladies

must need assistance.

We held up our glorious bouquets

with smiles of pleasure

and he left us in peace.

Wildflower Picking (Aren't They Beautiful...) 008 (697x1024) (2)

And we are at peace.

We allow this place to draw us in…

to transport us quickly back

to the idyllic ramblings of our childhoods.

Our mama’s presence is palpable

when we stand still and listen for the sound of the wind

as it plays in the pine branches over our heads.

We breathe in as sisters

though our approaches differ when it comes to picking.

I dive into beauty

the moment I leave the car,

drawn by color and delicacy of form

without needing to know the names.

Mary crosses to the other side of the road,

her magnificent mind full of species as intricate

as the names she sings out with glee.

I forget them as soon as they enter my ears,

and photograph all I see.

We both know we are united in our sisterhood

and the road is easily crossed

when it’s time to go home.

Wildflowers at Home 017 (683x1024) (2)

At home

I placed my bouquet below the window…

just next to the kitchen sink.

And the light that found its way

to these blooms of the wilderness

found its way to me also.

Together we greeted each day…

each influx of light.

We gazed at each other,

our eyes like stars remembering…

sisterhood in the cutover land.



May 19, 2014

Dancers and Birds Pot on Deck 040 (1024x704) (2)

In the beginning

I took the pot in my hand,

smoothed its surface

and sponged the dust away.

Pencil in hand,

I bravely allowed

the first faint tracing of a dancing woman.

Dancers and Birds Pot  (First Dancer Detail) 048 (2)

The pot was round;

one woman led to another.

Limbs intertwined, connected.

Hands took flight.

Flight called to flight,

and small birds joined the dance.

Each woman’s face expressed the joy

I was feeling.


It was time to emphasize the lines

that would absorb the color.

A tiny instrument in hand,

I deepened the impression…

committing further

to this particular dance of joy.

How beautiful to be absorbed again

in the creative process,

to disregard the ache of my still healing arm!

How beautiful

 to celebrate the dance again,

to trust the strengthening and rehabilitating gift

of making art!

Dancers and Birds Pot  012 (816x1024) (2)

Yes, I embraced the process,

though the next step in the process

obscured the lines.

I may have trembled as the green wash was applied,

Yet I had come to trust

the layering and un-layering that life requires,

I knew that here, too, was the possibility

of revelation.

Dancers and Birds Pot on Porch 033 (1024x729) (3)

I held the pot and gently rubbed its surface.

The thumb on my right hand

assumed a greenish hue…

as I forgot myself

in the enlightening moment

of re-emerging line.

More glaze was then applied:

a delicate rose brought warmth

to the dancer’s bodies.

The flying birds were lit

by a sunny yellow.

The next step in this dance

would be the alchemy of firing.

Dancers and Birds Pot (Hand-held on Deck) 042 (1024x683) (2)

Just as dancing women encircle this little Pot, women encircle the table where I am learning to paint on pottery. Thanks to Patricia, Adele, Marie, and Nancy who guide my apprenticeship, and to Penny and Ruth who are mightily adept at working with molds. I have been made welcome by the warm and talented sisterhood who grace the workshop annex of Shearwater Pottery.