ByMichelle Adam
The thunder rolled in, across the fields of high grass, along the old New England road outside my window. It arrived at where I sat, in front of my mesa, my Peruvian altar. Hail followed, and wind that soon turned into a vicious summer storm of late afternoon. I had woken up late that day…
ByGiora Carmi
I am moved Because it is beautiful for me Meaning, Something from home Love coming through There is an external story Of shapes doing Like, maybe, a tree grows on a rock Maybe it is turning into a monster Doing strange things But inside In a one two three rhythm We go from total darkness…
ByMichelle Adam
We stood around the fire under the full moon in a cleared out field of high grasses in New Hampshire. Denise, my Reiki healer and shamanic teacher, placed a stick into the fire and then cleansed the front and back of my hips with it, before blowing Peruvian Agua de Florida, a lavender, rose-water musk,…
ByGiora Carmi
Sometime during the night and early in the morning I painted the pain. Here it is. Then, in the morning, I heard a program on the radio in which a social psychologist (Ellen Langer) talked about her finding that it is our beliefs that determine the outcome that we experience. For example, if I do…
ByCarrie Beleno
“Be Happy.” A phrase that we’ve been throwing around for decades. What does it really mean? Is anyone actually happy? First, realize that the phrase is “be happy,” not “do happy.” So happiness requires a certain state of being, not doing. Now, getting to the “being happy” may require some “doing,” as in reducing work…
ByGiora Carmi
Night. I draw in the darkness with one lamp over the table. I Collect words from the drawing and scramble them. There is a person there, tense all over. There is rain and blood and dirty green. I make a poem out of these, trusting the funny and loving energy of this strange universe to…
ByGiora Carmi
It is a key drawing in the process of my relief from major programs in the subconscious. It describes fear. There is a body there and it is full of small waves of fear. The fear goes everywhere, the head, the chest, the hands, the muscular stomach and the pelvis. There are three places where,…
ByGiora Carmi
I did so many paintings from the time I wrote about one. I’ll do a summary of two, as I look at them now. Here is a painting that I called: Birds and Water. It was done in a daydreaming state, imagining a place I’d like to experience. There are parts of birds in light…
ByMichelle Adam
The sounds of crickets and bullfrogs filled in the silence of the encroaching night as we sat at the long dining room table of the old New England farmhouse, singing musical show tunes. It was no ordinary evening. My elder poet housemate, Jean, and her son John, her granddaughter Emily, and Emily’s mom, Cassie, (and…
ByGiora Carmi
Two good friends in the tree house This is a painting from two days ago. I did not write about all of the art that I made. Many times there is a painting to write about but I want to paint more, so a gap forms. I wanted to clear everything or actually to accept…
ByRobyn Harris
I’ve recently been working with a new client using one of my favourite ‘tools’ – META-Health. I thought I’d share a little more about this here. META-Health seeks to answer the following questions: why am I sick? why now? why this sickness? why this part of my body? I believe that the body doesn’t make…
ByMichelle Adam
My summer, 17 years ago: weathered New England roads; a two-hundred-year-old-plus farmhouse that was once an old milk farm; an elder poet, Jean, who held poetry workshops every Monday for the past 25 summers; her granddaughter, Emily, and Emily’s mother, Cassie, who spent weekends with us; Jean’s cat, Tristan, handsome, black, and both elegant and…