Welcoming My Muse…


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My Muse watercolor © Joan Currie

I had only to open my bedroom window, and blue air, love, and flowers entered with her. – Marc Chagall

Merely opening the window does not ensure that my Muse will arrive – she is attracted by genuine intent. So when she appears, I am truly grateful. And if she appears after my opus is complete, she still guides me on my creative journey, which is never-ending.

One of my favorite Chagall paintings, Les Amoureux (1928), is discussed https://youtu.be/5v7C2nMnZjc

Polishing Up on Valentine’s Day…


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© Lauren DiMarco

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings. – by Anaīs Nin

I know that our love is still alive – it just needs a careful polishing.

Models: Lauren DiMarco and Oleg Galagan

Thoughts of Love…


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© Lauren DiMarco

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
But then begins a journey in my head,
To work my mind, when body’s work’s expired:
For then my thoughts–from far where I abide–
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see:
Save that my soul’s imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,

Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.
Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,
For thee, and for myself, no quiet find.
Sonnet XXVII by William Shakespeare

In that wonderful place between wakefulness and sleep, I think of you.

Model: Lauren DiMarco

Ice-gripping Cold…


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My father spent his last winter
Making ice-grips for shoes

Out of strips of inner tube and scrap metal.
(A device which slips over the instep

And holds under the shoe
A section of roughened metal, it allows you to walk

Without fear of falling
Anywhere on the ice or snow.) My father

should not have been doing
All that close work

In the drafty workshop, but as though
he sensed travel at the edge of his mind,

He would not be stopped…
from “Ice” by Mary Oliver

Our ice calipers were fashioned in rubber with metal studs and they, too, allowed my father and I to travel when the exterior world was covered in ice – like a thick plexiglass covering that offered a view to what was beneath, but no warmth.

Photograph © James Currie

Ten Beautiful Things I Like About a North Man…


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North – cold, wind, precipices, glaciers, caves, heroic conquest of dangerous obstacles,
whales, hot meat, and vegetables, concentration and production, privacy. – W. H. Auden

  1. The way he uses an auger to makes holes for ice fishing before laying in the gill net.
  2. The way he pulls the polar shell over his leather mittens.
  3. The way he lays logs for a fire in the granite fireplace that he built himself.
  4. The way he knows what the temperature is without checking the thermometer.
  5. The way the snow and frost settle on his eyebrows.
  6. The way he climbs onto the roof to sweep off the snow.
  7. The way he snaps icicles off the eavestrough before they shatter onto the ground.
  8. The way he puts chains on his truck and that they always fit.
  9. The way he folds his trapper blanket at the end of the bed.
  10. The way he knows all the constellations in the winter sky – Orion being our favorite.

Photograph © David Dodds

Returning to a New Normal…


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© Joan Currie

In the rush to return to normal, use this time to consider which
parts of normal are worth rushing back to. – Dave Hollis

Although I don’t like to think of myself as bound to a daily routine, it is this routine that gives me
perspective, stability, and structure, and makes stepping out of it all the more wonderful and exciting!