What follows is a post from late July, but I was delayed until today posting. I hope you might enjoy it still! Since the end of May, I lived, worked, and immersed myself in art and the life of the community of artists gathered at Penland School of Craft, one of America’s oldest crafts schools, … Continue reading Art and Life… and letting go
When I stepped out for an early morning walk in the cool air, l immediately heard the unmistakable three-note slur of the Eastern Wood-Pewee: “Pee-a-wee!” Hearing that clear and repeated call, “Pee-a-wee!” this morning is remarkable since, this is the first time I’ve heard the Eastern Wood-Pewee in our neighborhood since moving here three years … Continue reading Pearl of Great Price
Since Sunday, my wife and I have focused all our attention on caring for our energetic, brilliant, and delightful two-year-old granddaughter. She is all that a two-year-old can be! But in recent days, it’s remarkable how clear it is that she senses the fear and insecurities of change in the air. And indeed, she now … Continue reading Moments to Practice
I didn’t have to walk far this drizzly overcast morning before my eye was drawn to a glorious pale violet bloom bearing an intense yellow throat and bejeweled with water droplets — today’s early morning work of an iris rooted in the NC Piedmont red clay. My wife and I have been discussing the … Continue reading Cleave Dancing
On an early morning walk, the cheerful exuberance of clover thriving in the cracks of a brick stairway caught my eye. I love tracing the graceful arc of the stems and marveling at the multitude of blooms condensed into each lovely sphere of flowers. The spent flowers falling toward their stem speak of a prior … Continue reading Ground of Being
Today it was abundantly clear that the local neighborhood ants got an early start (surely even before dawn?) — for their handiwork was evident along many sidewalk crevices. I’ve been thinking a lot about detachment, since reading and reflecting on Meister Eckhart’s writings. I ponder detachment, that is, when I’m not thinking obsessively about clay … Continue reading Leaving and Cleaving
The stairs lead steeply up to a garden gate, which graciously reveals she is *not* locked. She speaks a plain, “Yes, come in,” but with the unlocked padlock still displayed, it’s a welcome that tells me, reminds me, how I so like to secure thresholds, keep them known to me and under my control. Today’s … Continue reading Freedom
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