Dreams and Memories and Left Hand

Last night I dreamed I looked in the mirror and saw Amelia Earhart.  In 1979, I was fortunate to see and hear Joni Mitchell perform this song in Vancouver, B.C.  

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#23

23 so far in a series of 53 tiny mandalas drawn with my non-dominant left hand.  When I was working on #23, I was feeling angry and sad and scared.  Something shifted in the process of drawing #23.  Something prompted me to fill the entire picture plane but once I had done that there was still no resolution.  When I woke up yesterday morning, I knew I needed to cut the mandala out and create an open space, free of anger, sadness and fear, while still honoring those emotions.  The Chinese character in the center is the word "hand." 

Chinese character for left hand:

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Sending love always

Gratitude

 

"Sanctuary"

Samish Overlook

"Our Time on Earth"

"Our Time on Earth"

(Many thanks to my friend Sue for the link)

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"... And I don't want a never-ending life
I just want to be alive
While I'm here ..."

(Lyrics from "Spirits," by the Strumbellas)

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From Beth's Tumblr page:

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Sending love always

A Meditation On The Day After Walking Up To Oyster Dome at age 73

ON ANOTHER PANEL ABOUT CLIMATE, THEY ASK ME TO SELL THE FUTURE AND ALL I’VE GOT IS A LOVE POEM

What if the future is soft and revolution is so kind that there is no end to us in sight.

Whole cities breathe and bad luck is bested by a promise to the leaves.

To withstand your own end is difficult.

The future frolics about, promised to no one, as is her right.

Rage against injustice makes the voice grow harsher yet.

If the future leaves without us, the silence that will follow will be an unspeakable nothing.

What if we convince her to stay?

How rare and beautiful it is that we exist.

What if we stun existence one more time?

When I wake up, get out of bed, my seven year old cousin

with her ruptured belly tags along.

Then follows my grandmother, aunts, my other cousins
and the violent shape of their drinking water.

The earth remembers everything,
our bodies are the color of the earth and we
are nobodies.

Been born from so many apocalypses, what’s one more?

Love is still the only revenge. It grows each time the earth is set on fire.

But for what it’s worth, I’d do this again.
Gamble on humanity one hundred times over

Commit to life unto life, as the trees fall and take us with them.

I’d follow love into extinction.

(written by Ayisha Siddiqa & read by Ayana Elizabeth Johnson)

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Oyster Dome

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Always sending love.