Purple Ball of Light
Houston, 2009

In his art studio await
endless numbers of beads
that have hung in various combinations on warm skin
ancient coins encased in heavy silver
delicate sacred gems
All awaiting
To find their way
Onto the neck or wrist of their next lover

He knows that he is their caretaker
They find him
Through scouts out in the world
Who know immediately, “this piece needs to get to T.”
Knowledge whispered to each scout in a different way
Yet eventually each piece of beauty
Finds its way
Home

In his blue eyes
In his home
These objects find understanding, solace
A resting spot among the ordinary and extraordinary
Before they continue
Their role in this dimension
Home is heavy with their energy
Home is an art studio up a stairway
Home is orderly in the chaos
Home whispers to me
Pulling me into their stories

I fall into the space
Fall deep
I know where I am
Although I can not find words
To even begin to capture
What I simply know

One evening I curl up on a soft rug
That he places under me
On the wooded floor that bounces
Back the sound of a bead falling
and rolling across space
That repeating sound sits beneath me
Although its sound no longer exists

But much of what is around me
Exists outside of time
in spaces that are not of this place

Covered by a blanket that still
has playa dust in its fibers
I drift
I fall into stories
I fall into spaces
Until I see her

Her
She floats in a black space
A purple ball with light radiating from within
I feel her
I understand her
I know her
And her love, power, beauty, stillness and wildness overwhelm me
In just that short moment of connection

I sit up with almost a scream
With my breath catching in my throat
And look into his blue eyes
Across the space, over the necklace he is creating
Weaving
Almost not knowing what to say
But knowing fully that he is one of the few
Who would know
what it is that I saw
What it is that is happening to me
What I allow
In the sacred space of these objects
At home .

 

Breaking Past Time and Space
Houston, 2009

Days later
While sitting in a brick archway at a rose garden
I describe the purple ball to N
And he describes back to me
The painting he is currently painting
That contains the exact ball that I saw
That takes my breath away
Mmmm.

I later connect
that very ball
to many of J's paintings
Mmmm

Many of us feel her.

 

**************************************************************************************************************************************
All images and writing are copyrighted.  These stories will be published by 2012.
Printed version available upon request.
All feedback and comments are welcome.  Please send to blissmeander at gmail.com