Linda's Poem

Wonderful poem by Linda Paquette."Faces framed in oval maple creep up the stairway wall. A cobweb sweeps across black lace lightened by countless tiny buttons and gold encircled cameos. Haunting eyes and somber mouths, stoic grins. wide brimmed hats, and flopy white bows. Who is that little boy clinging to a pleated skirt? An old man supports his life with a whittled cane and a ruffled child on the other. She looks beyond the camera, through the dusty layers and down at me. Generations of my family glassed in, trapped, protected, guard this house while we are gone. If I brush away the dust, will I find out who I am?" Glass pieces tumble out of his hand.

Sing and Dance

“Sing and dance together and be joyous but let each one of you be alone. Like the strings of a lute are alone, they quiver with the same music.”  is from the music group Cradle Duende. I loved the quote and have individual people as the strings. Sad that this is my last summer post.

Heroes

“That’s what it takes to be a hero, a little gem of innocence inside you that makes you want to believe that there still exists a right and wrong, that decency will somehow triumph in the end.” – Lise Hand submitted by Patty Grover D

Makes Us Stronger

My friend Beth Wolven posted "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger". I have a beautiful but fractured face and the guardian angel waiting at the side.

My Heroes

My friend Patty Dunchus contributed "My heroes are those who risk their lives every day to protect our world and make it a better place- police, firefighters, and members of our armed forces." by Sidney Sheldon
Please take note of her dolls. It is hard to see but the words "Protect and Serve" are in the background.

Memory

Meghan Wood submitted the word "Memory" and I instantly thought of antique photos and the memory jars from down south. These jars would have all sorts of items stuck to the outside; human hair from a loved one and shells from a visit to the ocean.

Blessed Be the Muses

Denise Bach submitted, "Blessed be the Muses for their descent, dancing round my desk, crowning my balding head with Laurel" from Allen Ginsberg. I have always imagined my guiding muse to be a raven so the wing of my raven becomes the laurel wreath.