I wrote this poem early yesterday morning inspired by the sacred space of first light—the time of day when light first appears, but before the sun rises. When you’re all alone in the morning, you’re able to consciously embrace the calm and the quiet all around you. This silence allows you to focus on self-reflection and opens you up for inspiration.
The natural world has so many advantages from inspiration to health benefits. The best gift I’ve received from exploring the majesty of this impressive world we live in and its royal beauty is how it opened up my heart to writing poetry, and to my inner artist.
I write in bits and short bursts—sort of what it feels like to wiggle in and out of boulders as you climb up a mountain. The greatness of the colors, the mountain air, the peace, the blues and earthy hues enhance my thoughts and turn off the distractions; then it all comes spilling out like one of those narrow creeks down the side of the mountain after a big rain.
Artistic scientist, scientific artist, or both? How an artist or a photographer sees a flower, and how a scientist sees a flower, do not have to be separate. There’s no right or wrong. Everyone feels art and sees science in different ways. The science of art—or, if you prefer, the art of science—are both a means of investigation, observation and exploration. The two naturally overlap and cannot exist without each other.
It’s subjective, not objective. It’s not only one perspective, but many forms from unique visions and minds of people that surround us.
I just returned from a weeklong trip through the country of Cuba. Living off the grid has taken on an entirely new meaning to me.
Take a moment and think—
What does it mean
To have fresh water to drink?
To splash on your face, brush your teeth
And hydrate your body with its exquisite embrace?
A daily ritual some might accidentally
Take for granted
To have water at your fingertips
And to your lips
To restore your body in big thankful sips!
Today is April 30 and the last day of National Poetry Month. I’ve been excited to celebrate this monthlong event for many reasons: First, I love poetry—in all its manifestations! Second, it healed me. Third, I met my personal goal to self-publish two illustrated poetry books. And for so many other reasons; especially that poetry helps us to understand each other and gives us a sense of all the beauty in the world.
We’re all colorful mosaics. Each and every one of us made up of pieces of life experiences—the places we’ve been, the people we meet, the things we love; feelings of happiness and sadness, tops of Rocky Mountains and rock bottoms, moments of spontaneous elation and unexpected surprises; smiles, hugs, kisses; the walks we take, the poems we read, Sunrays and Sundays—that when combined, are what make us unique individuals.