Seven Degrees of Discerning: Be Here and Now

From my newest series, Seven Degrees of Discerning. These pieces are part personal messages that I need to be reminded of daily, part love of totem animals (and recognizing them as stand-ins for self-portraiture) and partly birthed from studying ancient belief systems of connecting our physical bodies with our emotional being.

And so I'm delighted to show you the first in the series, the root, the reminder of Earth, of survival, of stillness, of being present, "Be Here and Now."

:: Be Here and Now ::

I press my feet against the earth, plant my heels down in that rich soil.

The future is coming, after all, isn't it always? But as I pull this atmosphere into my lungs and sense the touch of sky upon my skin, what happens tomorrow seems a long way off.

Right this second, ten thousand microscopic creatures are carrying about their lives unseen below my toes. Right now ten tons of water is being released into the air with little more than a whisper by the foliage standing upright. Right now the moon is pulling the tides and the earth is obliging it's heavenly path.

Right now there is no other place I can be, no other place I want to be, no other place I'm supposed to be. So I am.

Here.

Now.

I press my feet against the earth, plant my heels down in that rich soil.

"Be Here and Now"

Oil on Canvas, 8" x 8"

2010

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Prints of "Be Here and Now" will be available in the shop tomorrow morning, Friday the 6th along with a small company of other new-to-etsy prints (WHAHOO!). I'm not planing on placing the original painting in the shop any time too soon HOWEVER if you are interested in owning the Original please feel very free to drop me an email at kclarkstudios[at]gmail.com.

On that note, I'm headed South to the country for a day with my sister, stopping only for lattés, lunch-to-go and anything else two sassy fems may feel like on a Thursday afternoon.

Of Roses and Rosé

Sixty-seven degrees of sunshine beat down on a single straw hat

The rosé threw rainbows, dangling from five long fingers

The breeze, tired of tossing nothing but silly leaves, entertained itself with the hem of my skirt

And I looked both ways before hopping the fence

Nature will always take back what was rightfully hers

And these stairs are no exception

Ten feet up and the sweetness permeates the air

Twenty feet up and the headiness plays tricks

Thirty feet up and the roses arch their eyebrows

Staring bold-faced

Sizing me up

Like Alice down the rabbit hole, I curtsied, clumsily

Saying "How do you do?"

In clear unison they replied "Charmed I'm sure"

And I knew we understood each other

At least for today

Although tomorrow may be another story

And I have always been the redwood

In honor of my best poet-crush, Billy Collins, and inspired by his poem, Litany.

I am the scent of rain on asphalt

As well as that of horses at dusk

warmed from the streaming Summer light.

I am the knocking call of the raven

And the silver peep-toe stilettos

And some days

The glossy orange tea kettle as well.

I have never been candlelight at midnight

Or the first wind of November

I am not a red delicious apple

And while their first appearance tugs at my breath

I have never been the crocus.

I am the fruit stand on the long highway

The merry chiming of a palette knife on glass

The cherry blossoms piled like pink snow

in late April, confusing the seasons

And always

yes

Always have I been the redwood.

And what, my friends, are you?