Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Things I Learned

Here are some of the things I learned
on my trip to Italy.

1. Women in Italy take their footwear seriously.
I'm not sure about the men. 
Seriously. . . . Seriously?

2. Ordering a margarita can bring surprising results.

3. Every meal should start with gelato,
preferably Creme Caramel, Caffe, or Bailey's
though this Limoncello was pretty good too.

4. There are service gondolas used by Venetian locals
that cost only half a Euro, a darn sight cheaper
than the tourist version. One is just past
the Rialto Bridge on the side of the market.
It just takes you from one side of the canal
to the other, but hey -- I've ridden in a gondola!

5. The after-hours tour of the Vatican museum
was worth every dime.

6. The Amalfi Coast is breath-taking.

7. Store windows in Venice are show-stoppers.

8. It's best to go to Italy with your bags already full
if you're on a budget.

9. The mosaic tile floors in Rome are simply amazing.
These are in the Vatican museum.

(This one's for you, Rebecca.)

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Little Things

Sometimes it's the little things  you notice

when you look closely.

Did you see she's making music
despite her limitations?

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Morning Light

Some mornings the merest hint of light
 creeps in through the cracks
and begs you to crawl from your bed
to see what you'd have missed
if you stayed too long
in the land of dreams.

Water Like Glass © 2010 Meri Arnett-Kremian

If you listen to your heart,
if you pull on your clothes
despite your inclination to snooze
just a few minutes more,
you just might find near-perfect light
and calm waters.

First Light Over Rialto Bridge © 2010 Meri Arnett-Kremian

Picture perfect.

Monday, June 21, 2010


The photography workshop has been fabulous.

Here’s a hint of things to come.

Copyright 2010 Meri Arnett-Kremian. All rights reserved.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

i found this at emma tree

i found this at Emma Tree,
and she found it at Julochka's,
 I thought I had something to say
along the same lines,  

So. . . .

if i were a month i’d be september the month of my birth,
 september in all her splendor,
going out in a blaze of glory

if i were a day i’d be
the last day of school,
with summer spread out before me
like frosting on a cupcake.

if i were a time of day i’d be 
the moment the first star appears,
that instant when you wish
 something you want to come true

if i were a font i’d be Mariah
 or maybe Mistral, 

though you really can't tell
the difference between them.

if i were a sea animal i’d be a seahorse
because my husband would tend the children
while I floated around curling and uncurling
my dainty spiral tail, flirting with every guy 
floating nearby.

Photograph © National Geographic

if i were a direction i’d be the east, 
the place of new beginnings and first light.

if i were a piece of furniture i’d be a canopy bed 
with a delicate frame draped in yards and yards of netting,
a house for afternoon delight
and the hostess for sweet, sweet dreams.

if i were a liquid i’d be a salt-rimmed Margarita
with a dash of Damiana thrown in
 to unleash a woman's passion
and accentuate her sultry ways

if i were a tool i’d be an eggbeater,
stirring things up to a froth of foam

if i were a fruit i’d be a ripe and luscious peach
with soft downy skin to nuzzle up against,
or maybe an Orange with just a hint of 
Cottage Cheese Cellulite Visible on my Thighs.

if i were material i’d be 
soft white yarn

if i were a scent i’d be

Pop Corn © 2010 Meri Arnett-Kremian

if i were a bird i’d be
a sleek ballet dancer
performing on windswept beaches  

Jumping for Joy ©2010 Meri Arnett-Kremian

if i were a poem 
i'd be

"If you want me"
by Ellen Bass
part of which reads

. . . if I cry, if my sorrow is not more dear
than oceans of dolphins in the orange morning waves

if you will not lavish me until my body
like a dying fish, gives up
and I swim as I have flown in my dreams

if you are saving something
if you have not
made up your mind
do not come to me. . . .

Yes, I'd definitely be THAT poem

* * * * * * * * * * * 

Like Debi Smith Kaitch Jones says:
c'mon, play along.
see what you find when you ask what you'd be.
and ignore any comments
saying "you are so self-absorbed."
or say yes, i am,
come on in.

they will

Friday, June 18, 2010

Snippets of Color

A lot of you seem to love super-saturated color
like those you see in Dale Chihuly's masterpieces.

And since I'm in Venice, so near the island of Murano
where glass making has been a way of life,

I am inspired to feature photographs
 of my favorite snippets of Chihuly color.


(All these photos are closeups of small sections of
Chihuly's Bridge of Glass in Tacoma. 
To photograph them, you have to shoot up,
so stiff necks go along with the territory.) 

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

What Catches Your Eye?

When you're looking at the world through a camera lens,

what kinds of things catch your eye?

What makes you choose to capture
one vignette over another,

makes you smile, touches your heart, 
pours a stream of calm into your day?

Is there a theme, a mood, a character of light or twilight,

something that unifies your work?
In other words, do you have a vision?  
Or is it a random thing?

I love:

shiny things
feathery things
reflections & light bouncing off water
sleeping babies
artfully arranged store window displays
repetition and visual rhythm
lots of color and Chihuly's glass.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Love is a Bella Thing (Reprise)

I've posted an earlier version of this piece before,
but it's been reworked after a few astute comments
in a manuscript group session in a writing workshop
I attended a while ago. So here it is again,
posted in its new incarnation. Hope you don't mind.

Love is a Bella Thing

Sometimes I think that love
is an extraordinary guy
dressed in everyday clothes,
a wily clown that springs tricks
and slaps his knee in delight
at lovers' silly pratfalls.

I'd love to greet him, "Ciao bella!"
the moment he turns the corner,
sticks out his foot and trips me up,
skinning my knee, the one
that's puffed and swollen, the one
that bumps and grinds just like a stripper.

I'd love to serenade him with a song
or beggar Rumi's words recounting -
how fierce like a lion, tender like the evening star -
love dribbled warm and moist in the tender
cracks of his soul. I know, I know, he was talking
about God but love in all its forms is my god.

I'd sure as hell prefer to quote Rumi saying,
"I was dead, then alive. Weeping, then laughing," 
than recall that once I was alive and laughing,
until the assassin struck and love exsanguinated.
But here you are, you clown, you miracle worker.
La dolce vita. So unexpected this close side of death.

Saturday, June 12, 2010


Relyn recently invited us to post our No. 5 and 
No. 10 posts from our blog infancies. I'm not sure what 
number this was, but it was a very early post.
I've reworked it just a bit and am posting it
while I'm on a more exterior journey.

- meri

To me, spirals bespeak an inner journey,
a heroic quest to perfectly express
our uniqueness and soul signature.

"Spiral" © 2008 Meri Arnett-Kremian 

 All of us encounter layers of meaning, find ourselves
 confronted with challenges time and again.
Sometimes it's the same old stuff in new packages.
Other times it's brand new stuff
because we've learned some of the earlier lessons
 and we're ready for bigger 
(and hopefully BETTER) things. 

Who hasn't circled round and round,
trying to find that center 
of stillness and peace?

Who hasn't longed for a sure
 and steady path to a blissful destination,
even if it turns out to be 
a mere resting place?

What journey are you taking, here and now,
in this time of changing consciousness?

What keeps you going deeper and deeper, 
even when going deeper makes you feel
like you're about to drown 
and you're afraid you'll never be able to breathe
 underwater long enough to reach
 the sweet center
where your soul provides a home?