(working as part of a ‘Japanese 72 season micro-climate’ artist collaborative initiative within Treesisters)
Japanese season called ‘Ritto’ / beginning of winter, 7th November – 21st November
Micro climate ‘daffodils bloom’ 17th November – 21st November
Nearly lost this entire blog just now!
Seems I may have been the victim of some kind of hacker….think WordPress and I have sorted it now….I was distraught!
All this years work for nothing!
It is even possible that I will be better seen now….as it appears that someone, somewhere was trying to control my activity!
Perhaps even ‘steal’ my identity or stop my simple message from getting out?!
Not really sure that it is that dangerous though….probably paranoid…
At least I always keep images and poems etc. on my hard drive….but this just goes to show how fragile our online existence really is…..
Daffodils are blooming in Japan right now?
Seems strange to me….they are so associated with spring here, but my Dad has always had some ‘rebel’ ones flower in autumn these last few years. Perhaps they are from Japanese bulb stock!?
We have been experiencing a very cold spell. The news still calls this ‘autumn’, but this feels very much like winter.
I love these ice puddle pictures.
Each one would look amazing painted as a large canvas.
Tempted to make an ice mandala….feeling very alive in his crisp, crunch….
(click on first image to see all as gallery slideshow)
The writing course seems to be dying down in urgency.
I spent a few hours working up this piece…live on screen.
I am very pleased with it.
Sandy suggested that this was a ‘ritual’. A rite of passage.
So I tried to do that as I wrote.
Returning to rhyming was both a challenge and a Joy.
Thank you, thank you, thank you….
Thank you, too, blank page of light,
That dark words, in this time, invite.
Drawing down with all my might,
For words to come
And then take flight.
A journey shared with all around,
Deep below, I sense a sound,
I could say I see it,
The aim is to be it,
The channel has only to be found…..
There is a wound, so deep and wide,
I cannot see the other side.
I only see our job to mend,
To heal, to feel, and Love to send,
To, somehow, this flowing blood, congeal,
At least that’s how I think I feel…..
The wound is, now, too deep to hide,
Still many ignore it, though millions have cried.
Our denial exposed now, for us all to see,
We need rainbow bridges, heartfelt stitches,
To fix the tears, torn, in our memory.
‘Big girl’ breeches.
Brave ‘out reaches’.
Each word like a stepping stone.
Much has changed, since way back when,
I first held this howling pen,
Now I know I’m not alone.
Throwing our whole selves in life’s rushing river,
Being never a taker, always a giver,
Creating a crossing by sharing our hearts,
This Rainbow Bridge growing, a spectrum of parts.
We stand on each other to leap ever further,
Holding steady, we put our whole faith in a future,
The golden thread tightens,
Our connection enlightens,
In fits and starts.
It fits and it starts.
Sometimes we just get washed away….
The distance to ‘bridge’ seeming longer,
But the more that we open,
to what we know how to say..
This invisible bridge gets stronger…
Go for the jugular….form platelets to clot…
Find the Grace to point out
What we really are not,
This balances vision,
This heals the division,
Simply follow this thread, dot to dot.
A stone in a river, a bridge to close,
A stitch in forever, a clot, hidden in prose,
Eons of endings meet again, their birth,
Wholeness becomes visible now
In this one, sacred, Earth.
A bringing together, to heal the divide,
Duality smashed as the mirrors collide,
The dams, an illusion,
For they held back the flow,
There is only one way for this water to go.
Stones in the river,
These words sink in silt,
The way over, directed.
No trolls under this bridge.
No knots in this twine,
The timing is crucial.
And this timing’s DIVINE.
A clot with a keyboard,
(That is what they say!)
‘Let it be so’
Closing this space.
Releasing these words,
Throwing them to the sky,
I love you, I am sorry, Please forgive us,
Three to the power of one.
This journey to wholeness has only just begun…
Be a bridge o’er this river,
Between death and birth.
Or a tree, stand connecting the heavens and Earth,
Masculine and feminine,
All in this together,
May this dance between both, play forever and ever…
In Gratitude I loose this song,
There is no right, there is no wrong
The River? It always goes back to the sea,
I hold my position, as it flows around
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Kat Robertson 19th November 2019