the noir petit dejeuner

Dear Ones, The noir petit dejeuner means English breakfast black tea. Today I wanted to invite you to a Noir Petit Dejeuner Salon to share what the most important and or most interesting conversation topics are for you right now. What is on your heart? What challenges do you have solutions for? What do you…

Our Lady's Feast Day and my 116 Works of Art Retrospective

Shiloh, Daughter of Caron, Granddaughter of Eden, Great Grandmother Ethel, Great Great Granddaughter of Nasaya, Granddaughter of Helen, Great Granddaughter of Mary, Sister of Laurel, Shannon and Bridget. Artist Daughter of Sue, Niece of Janet, Child of the Most High, Daughter of the Blessed Mother of All.

Can you hear the voice of your Holy Mother Calling you…? She is here. Come. Sit a while at her campfire and listen as She spins her tale of healing….

Life Is A Miraculous Circumstance

I give honor to those who dream while using creativity as a lens through which to view the infinite universe. Inventors who imagine the impossible, those scientists who seek to discover, those poets who organize the words, and those artists who give shape to the vision are the ones who make it possible for the rest of us to begin to lay hold of that which lays just beyond the reach of our mortal minds.

A Letter To Grandma – Dia De Las Muertos

Letting you and Grandma Eden go, is so far, the hardest thing in my life. Since I go to the Orthodox Church now, I finally understand how you got how you were. The sacredness, and the expansiveness. How I wish I had asked you more questions. When I am in church, I feel I am with you – and my family. I feel my roots and I have a sense of understanding about the nature of my own soul as it relates to my blood line. Who knew I would find mother church, after you left. How I wish I could take you to Vespers tonight, I think how happy you would be – even though you left and went to the Protestant Church, I know your heart remained with the church “back home” in Lopez, Pensylvannia – where the church Grandfather Dimitri helped to build, still stands, 100 years later. The icon that was in your room when you died, is mine now and sits on one of my many altars.

Photo 77
Grandma’s Icon

There is also a flower in the book – dried and preserved though I cannot tell what kind. And it is inscribed from your mother, to you and grandpa and dad and uncle. That I get to see Grandmother Mary’s handwriting and know she touched the page, feels a blessing. I believe in particles – in essences – in momentary flahses of light and consciousness that link us to the past – and the present.
Letting you and Grandma Eden go, is so far, the hardest thing in my life. Since I go to the Orthodox Church now, I finally understand how you got how you were. The sacredness, and the expansiveness. How I wish I had asked you more questions. When I am in church, I feel I am with you – and my family. I feel my roots and I have a sense of understanding about the nature of my own soul as it relates to my blood line. Who knew I would find mother church, after you left. How I wish I could take you to Vespers tonight, I think how happy you would be – even though you left and went to the Protestant Church, I know your heart remained with the church “back home” in Lopez, Pensylvannia – where the church Grandfather Dimitri helped to build, still stands, 100 years later. The icon that was in your room when you died, is mine now and sits on one of my many altars.

Photo 77
Grandma’s Icon

There is also a flower in the book – dried and preserved though I cannot tell what kind. And it is inscribed from your mother, to you and grandpa and dad and uncle. That I get to see Grandmother Mary’s handwriting and know she touched the page, feels a blessing. I believe in particles – in essences – in momentary flahses of light and consciousness that link us to the past – and the present.

Letting you and Grandma Eden go, is so far, the hardest thing in my life. Since I go to the Orthodox Church now, I finally understand how you got how you were. The sacredness, and the expansiveness. How I wish I had asked you more questions. When I am in church, I feel I am with you – and my family. I feel my roots and I have a sense of understanding about the nature of my own soul as it relates to my blood line. Who knew I would find mother church, after you left. How I wish I could take you to Vespers tonight, I think how happy you would be – even though you left and went to the Protestant Church, I know your heart remained with the church “back home” in Lopez, Pensylvannia – where the church Grandfather Dimitri helped to build, still stands, 100 years later. The icon that was in your room when you died, is mine now and sits on one of my many altars.

My Morning: Sarah the spider, Gratitude Circles and Black Bean Soup

woke up EARLY so I could get to my writing table. But first there was the GIANT ant type creature I had to extract from the bathroom. Then I had to collect last nights dishes from their party strewn locations throughout the house, I cooked up a feast and as is custom in my house, we do not do the dishes on the night of the party.
The party was just Isaiah and I and our kitty, Shiniata, but in the soft starlight, listening to Emmylou Harris, and making yummie food and having fun constitutes a party.

So before I could get to the writing table, I remembered that I had put lima beans on to soak and had let them soak too long. So, I had to drain them and get the soup started. Last night I made Quinoa chicken, Isaiah made homemade salsa, and I got the fixins together for two soups, black bean and white bean. I put the black beans in the crock pot, and so they are done. But now I really should start the white beans. It will just take a minute. Draining the beans I see a VERY feisty spider in the sink. Had I not already dealt with a VERY feisty ant creature I may have tried to get her out of the sink that instant. But the an creature had jumping qualities that had kind of got me jumpy and so I watched and the spider too, was jumping, but not high enough to get out of the sink. I said to myself, let me drain the beans, I will avoid your part of the big white sink, then I will take you out. This did look like a biting kind of spider, but I do not kill spiders. So I drained my beans and got soup stuff out the fridge and kind of observed the spider moving about and jumping around. She seemed, well, fine to me. As if I could wait a few minutes to get to her. Very active she was. I put the white beans on the stove, cut the zucchini squash from my Auntie’s garden, I had baked into little chunks, and turned to the sink.