Decorating the crib, I either found this or stole from a friend who had it on their site, I don't remember. It's pretty though.
posted by SPOA | 5:55 AM
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Saturday, June 24, 2006
Decorating the crib, I either found this or stole from a friend who had it on their site, I don't remember. It's pretty though.
4 Comments:
Oooh. Purdy.
What kind of bird is it. Does it represent something?
It's an egret, Mrs. KM. I've never seen one in real life, but there is a kid song with the word in it. I liked to word so I started feeling interested in finding photos of them. That's how I think this one got into my picture file.
You know what I was thinking is how some people will say about a painting, "Wow, it looks just like real life..." And it is the highest compliment for some.
And with this photo, I can't help but think of it being so pretty, that it looks almost like a painting.
Hey....I was needing a listening heart this afternoon and this is where my bike took me.
I found your picture of the egret after reading that Maggie Macary (mythandculture.com) had died. This hit me really hard and somehow the enlarged image of this majestic bird expressed something that settled my spirit...A visual paradox of abundance and desolation.
She was such a passionate, vocal woman and a great writer. I hadn't been to her website in several months, but one of the last things I remember her writing was how her Odyssian journey was over and she was moving back home to Conneticut.
She's home now...part of the stardust of all the things she loved into being.
I'll miss her voice...and I knew you would understand.
I'm so sorry to read about this. I'm glad you wrote about it here. She came to the JPF a few times, but never stuck around long..
I was just reading her blog the day before her last one called "letting go," I'm sure you probably saw it too:
"But the truth is, I am not that creative and I hold onto the meanings of things sometimes way too long until the pain has to burst through my being and break me into something new. I came up with this topic this morning because the pain has become unbearable and something in me needs a release. I am no poet and no artist, though I think sometimes I have the heart of one. The truth is, I think I’m a hunter in life, always edging into that dark forest of the unknown. Arrows have to be released to wherever they may fall. The energy must go to its own end. From time to time, the meaning must be swept away and dispersed. It is not an easy thing to let go. But the wild in me knows that it is time."
Did you see how she wanted to be out of the desert and back to the rain? Oh, my heart went to her. I hope they poured her precious leftovers into a lake or the sea ~ the deepest part they could get to.
Yes always, K
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