On the Island
noble white petals
yield the stillness of a dream
takes your breath away
a liquid blue soul
serene in beauty and breath
she waxes and wanes
While painting this piece, I felt a connection to Lori. It was like I was painting her soul. I stayed in a beautiful meditative state all the way through to writing the poem that is in honor of Lori’s beauty. This one is for you Lori — not sure if it’s how you view yourself or your soul. It’s just what came to me while painting and reflecting on who you are as I know you through your art and words.
–genece hamby, contemporary artist & poet
http://sanctuaryofstillness.wordpress.com
Quart Pot Creek
Our move to the mountains has given us a whole new perspective - the sparkling air, the cooler weather, has been truly invigorating.
I guess I won’t stay here forever, I’m too much of a gypsy, but but this is one of the places I will remember with real affection.
Just down the road from us is a meandering creek and a park, where we often go for picnics.
Quart pot Creek winds lazily along..
This willow is one of our favourite trees.
In summer, the park is ablaze with flowers…
…and bird life…
…some just taking a walk, like us…
…some apparently posing for the papparazzi…
…there is always something…
…beautiful to look at.
The Magic of Venice
Here’s a little sample of where I grew up….
L.Gloyd (c) 2008
The Spirit of a Place
Los Angeles artist, J. Michael Walker, has spent the last several years of his life researching the names of the 103 L.A. streets named after saints. From his research he has made a collection of ink and seriograph images along with poetry depicting the saints in unique and contemporary contexts. The culmination of this project will be an exhibition at the Autry Museum early next year and the publication of a book entitled All the Saints of the City of the Angels: Seeking the Soul of L.A. on Its Streets.
What I find intriguing about this project is the artist’s attempt to find the spiritual essence of a place, or, rather, to find his spiritual essence within a place. Perhaps this search is one in the same.
Whatever direction the search, I think it is critical that we, in order to be fully human and whole, need to find that place of “sacredness” where we can encounter and experience the realm of the spirit. This special place can be a physical locale, an established place such as a temple, church or sacred grove, or a mundane place that we have made “holy” for ourselves—a park bench where we rest and feed the birds or a cozy chair in front of a fireplace.
How do you find this place? May I suggest taking a few moments to consider a few questions. Ask youself:
What would my sacred space be like? Is it a real place? If so, where? Is it an imaginary place? Pretend you are describing this imaginary place to someone. Does the space ever change? If so how? What or who populates the space? What can I bring to this space to make it special? What do I take away from it?
Once you have established your space—either a physical place where you can visit or an imaginary one that you visit in your mind’s eye, make it your practice to get to that place as often as you can.
Wherever you go, find yourself there.
Blessings.
——————–
Some sources for inspiring you in your search for a sacred space:
The All the Saints of the City of the Angeles Project
Sacred Cartography (at the Soul Food Café)
Sacred Sites: Places of Peace and Power
Lori Gloyd © 2007
The images above were taken by me at the San Fernando Mission, established in 1797. The mission resides on a street named after this saint.
Yielding Heart
Of all the places of the heart, I most love the stillness of a yielding heart eager to be shaped by beauty and grace. It is the part of the journey when everything comes back to the soul, to the rich honor and dignity of one’s deepest and kindest breath. There is only pureness from this place of divine contemplation and inner magic.
To all who love and express from a yielding heart, take this image with you on your journey.
Fall Into Me
in the calm stillness
of a vivid opal sky
beholds our future
quietly, I hear
the vibrant sound of your breath
calling me to you
as you softly gaze
deep inside the sun’s divide
reflected on the lake
reds and oranges
hold me under the sunset
so I can see you
along the crevice
waiting for the poetry
that fuses our heart
in gentle motion
let yourself fall into me
and I into you
as soul counterparts
kiss me with your solitude
and color me true
painted dreams of you
without effort and no echo
to chisel away
nothing to haunt us
into the fear of joining
you and I are free
boundless and open
slowly the force carries us
home to each other
Not ever married, I don’t feel alone or uhappy most of the time with not having a life partner. Yet, sometimes I feel someone close. It’s as if he’s right here next to me, especially when I’m sitting in the stillness. Other times, he even appars in my dreams–always in the kitchen chopping veggies or sitting on a dock gazing into the sun across the waters (the digital painting and poem above was inspired by this dream).
Often, I figure he is the masculine part of my psyche. Or, someone from the other side–perhaps a guardian. Since I’ve had this vision and dream of him for 20+ years, I’ve lost most of the desires to find or be with someone. I find myself flipping back and forth between believing I’ve given up and believing I am at peace with not sharing life with a soul partner.
This morning, I had a new thought. Perhaps he’s my muse–always reaching into the depths of my heart so I remain open and willing to love. I’m not talking about romantic love (yes, it could still happen and I know that)–it’s the kind of love that I feel for humanity, the earth, animals, plants, spirit and sky. That’s the love that keeps me rich in writing and painting, in creating from places of the heart.
If you’ve ever lived on an island
If ever you’ve lived on an island
if ever you’ve lived by the sea;
You’ll never return to the mainland
once your spirit has been set free.
If ever you’ve smelled the ocean
or tasted the salt in the air;
You’ll know you’ve discovered a haven
that is uncommon, precious and rare.
If ever you’ve seen the whales play
or watched the eagles in flight;
You’ll remember, again, why you live here
and why it feels so right.
If ever you’ve seen the sunset
as the ferry passed the shore;
You’ve seen the beauty of the island
that will be with you forever more.
If ever you’ve heard the seagulls
the waves, a foghorn, the winds;
Then you’ve heard the song of the island
and the peaceful message it sends.
Indeed, if you live on an island
if you’re lucky to live be the sea;
You’ll never return to the mainland
as your spirit has been set free.
Sanctuary of Stillness
Abbortsford Convent
A peaceful sanctuary
within a busy city.
Abbortsford Covent Melbourne
Stoney Creek
Helen, Greg and I took Darryl to the place he had asked to rest in. The Stoney Creek, within an hour of Melbourne, gurgles through remnants of old Lemuria. We all agreed that this is the perfect resting place.
Fly free Darryl!
September 5th 2007
Eternal River
I am blessed to know the music of the valley,
to hear the songs of the hills and
to feel the richness of the Earth.
Not a lonely hour of shattered dreams
shall take my breath away
as long as I have the grace of land
to bathe my tender heart.
Nor, shall any man darken
the path I choose with hatred
for I gather my strength
from the trees that bear fruit.
I carry the words of purity
as I belong to the eternal river
that flows gentle in my being.
Here where my blood is tied
to the threads of God,
shall I reap in the rewards
of my loving spirit.
To those who come openly
to touch and share the vision,
so shall I give freely of my soul
for I am married to the Earth
and to her wondrous generosity.
The painting was inspired by memories of an early morning sitting on a small river located on California’s most northern coastline. I was there as an archaeology student (we were digging up the remains of a Indian burial site that was sliding off the cliffs due to mudslides). Before we piled up equipment for the day, I always took special time to sit by the river for my morning mediation and contemplation.
Gazing softly at the sun, I had shifted my eyes to the scene in front of me. Blurry eyes made everything appear turquoise whle the morning light created a shapes and shadows of dreams. Nature’s song filled me with gratitude and passion for what we were doing to save the land and its ancient peoples.
Though I’ve lived in many magical places, Northern California graced my heart for more than 30 years–especially the coastline and valleys north of San Francisco.
