late summer haiku
poppy seeds scatter to soil
illusions shattered
dead rose petals fall softly
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art | divine | grace | inspiration | love | mystery | photography | poetry | projects | the delicious now | writing processpoems from the frye. 1. [emotional intensity theory]
Yesterday, I spent several hours alone at The Frye Art Museum drinking in the “Moment Magnitude” exhibit. I wrote pages in my journal. Random things I overheard people saying, snippets from the art descriptions or the videos and my own feelings and thoughts that arose. I also took pictures of things strangers had posted in…
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- healing | love | self-excavation | truth
respect
A friend of mine recently told me, “You know, Kymberlee, you will find a man who treats you with the respect you deserve when YOU know you deserve it.” I know it’s true. My spiritual teacher, Matt Kahn, once said in satsang that our bodies and the hearts that inhabit them are works of art….
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yes, I am.
pre·cious /ˈprɛʃəs/ [presh-uhs] –adjective 1. of high price or great value; very valuable or costly: precious metals. 2. highly esteemed for some spiritual, nonmaterial, or moral quality: precious memories. 3. dear; beloved: a precious child. 4. affectedly or excessively delicate, refined, or nice: precious manners. 5. a dearly beloved person; darling. Yes, I am. But…
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- healing | love | photography | truth | Uncategorized
the banquet of me
I wonder how many women have written or thought, “I am not a side dish, an appetizer, or dessert. I am an entree.” I am not a glass of wine to savor after a night out with your boys. I am not a piece of cake to eat while your wife is sleeping in your…
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- divine | love | mystery | photography | poetry | self-excavation | the delicious now | truth
is there a me to see?
do you see me through the smoke and mirrors of your projected mind? do i see you? is there a me to see or am i just a fractal of a greater reality? when you say you love me do you mean me or a fragment from your former reality? is there a love beyond…
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- grace | love | photography | pleasure | the delicious now
you don't need to say anything
This morning on the bus, I was running my hands through my daughter’s golden tresses and started giving her a scalp massage. As she relaxed, I said, “Mmmm…this is luxury. This is luxurious like– delicious dark chocolate, puppy breath, a spring rain, velvet on my skin, the sun kissing my shoulders at the beach, red…
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