Meri's Musings

The forecast calls for snowflakes. . . stockings are hung for  Purrsnickety, Deja Mew, and Oreo. So all that's left to do (besides make the fruit salad and desserts for Christmas dinner) is to wish you The Very Merriest of Christmases (and hugs if you're down or missing someone). And if you're someone dear to me whose name is Gail, Happy Birthday!

The winter solstice is almost here. Being at Stonehenge or Newgrange would be exciting, but a trip wasn't in my budget this month. However, you can watch solstice at Newgrange on December 20 and 21 via this link https://www.irelandsancienteast.com/wintersolstice Celebrate the slow but steady return of the light.

I'm a fan of abstract art (and no, I don't feel compelled to try to find animals or other  representational things in the canvas). I like the audacious use of color, a well-thought out composition, the use of a palette knife to build texture, the emotional energy a piece inspires. Here's a bit of detail from a painting by a Pacific Northwest artist, William Ivey (1919 - 1992). It's just a tiny glimpse of a larger painting currently on exhibit at Tacoma Art Museum. For more of Ivey's works, click HERE . If you want to learn about his life and career, try this website: Museum of Northwest Art

Blogging regularly has fallen off my radar for the most part. It used to be a fun pastime,  with lots of comments from readers and lots of blog hopping to see what others were doing. It felt like we were weaving a blanket of peace and connection around the world. That feeling, born of interaction, seems to have died down these days. Someone I know is offering a self-study blogging course and I found myself tempted but then demurred knowing my pattern of paying for online courses and never working the curriculum. I've come up with 12 months of themes  to inspire blog posts for 2018 but I'm wondering if posting is now akin to spitting in the wind. What do you think?

My life has seemed a little constricted the past few days, so I decided it was time for an outing. The Grand Cinema has a film series every Tuesday, featuring films that probably wouldn't draw  a large enough audience for a week-long run, but that have artistic merit. This week's offering was The King's Choice. Norway's King Haakon VII was faced with a choice when the Germans invaded Norway in 1940 -- he could make a unilateral decision to accede to Germany's demands that the Norwegians not resist their occupation (likely saving thousands of lives) and accept a puppet government that had ousted  the duly elected one or he could honor the country's constitution by refusing to negotiate, saying only the Norwegian people  could make such an important decision. An interesting film covering historical events about which I knew little. After that viewing, I took a little detour before going home (and picki

Twelve Days of Mary Love I'm closing out my Twelve Days of Mary Love with another tribute to Fran Pullara. This is her collage called "Our Lady of Christmas." Fran was a deeply spiritual person. While I never met her in person, others who knew her have commented on her spirituality  and her kindness. She had an affinity for images and metaphor and the power of language, making her a perfect SoulCollage ® facilitator. She loved making collages on Polyvore.com -- her screen name was Redondowriter, if you're curious -- and images of the Divine Feminine regularly anchored her work. She loved Twelve Days of Mary Love and her absence is felt  here in this online community. Thank you, Fran for being you.

Twelve Days of Mary Another tribute to Fran Pullara. I know she would have been here had she not been called away. "Our Lady of November Sorrows" - Fran Pullara creation (Redondowriter) on Polyvore.com sadness emanates her tears wash the universe yet her love sparkles

Twelve Days of Mary Our Lady of the Shopping Trip

Twelve Days of Mary always reverent heart spilling love to everyone saint of Mexico

Twelve Days of Mary Close Up of Tapestry in Vatican Museum Her baby's soft hands reach out in supplication Mary full of grace.

Twelve Days of Mary   Our Lady of the Canyons ©2017 Meri Arnett-Kremian eyes toward the sky she sends a silent prayer to the creator

Twelve Days of Mary Sometimes I think that Mary, a symbol of all-encompassing love and compassion, must look around and wonder why there's so much hatred and mistrust afoot in the world right now.

Twelve Days of Mary Another creation by Fran Pullara. She called it "Our Lady of the Southwest." Like Mary, Fran left her imprint on the fabric of the Universe through her loving, giving spirit.

Twelve Days of Mary Mother Mary Come to Me ©2017 Fran Pullara When I think of Fran, I think of kindness. She was a sweet soul (with a side of sass) who loved being present for others. She was also a creative being and encouraged others to express that longing in their heart. Gone, but not forgotten.

Twelve Days of Mary I've been thinking a lot about the imbalance of power between men and women. It's hard not to when  every day we learn of men who used their power to oppress to assault to humiliate women in their workplace. Many historians think that ancient cultures who worshipped a goddess rather than a god were more egalitarian, disinclined to assign men the power to rule over and dominate women. Makes sense to me intuitively. . .  why get Mother God angry by implying that incarnate beings that hold the female energy are less than? In our own times, many religions/sects still pay homage to one God the Father and tell us we're created in His image. Well, what about those of us who are female? So I wonder. . . . what if the Second Coming of Christ talked about in scriptures featured a female divine child? A little girl destined to be the Savior of the world? Would that help resto

Somehow time has stretched and bent and I'm two days behind. I intended to join the celebration of Mary and honoring of my friend Fran Pullara on December 1,  but let's just say  I'm happy to be here now and I'll correct my error by sharing three images today. Fran loved Mary and the Divine Feminine she represents. So in honor of Fran, I have gone through Fran's Polyvore catalog to harvest images of virgins to share with you here.  PV is something Fran and I shared. She loved my layered images  and asked how I'd done them, so I created a written tutorial for her and she took off from there. Fran can't be with us in body, but her images live on. Mary, Our Lady of Blue ©Fran Pullara 2017 Borrowing Botticelli's Mary ©Fran Pullara 2017 Our Lady of the Cosmos ©Fran Pullara 2017     12 Days of Mary

Have you ever made Soul Collage cards? I've been creating them like crazy lately, getting ready for a Soul Collage facilitator training later this month. Somewhere, in a box someplace, probably in the storage unit that houses all my painting paraphernalia, I have a stack of Soul Collage cards  that I've made over the years. But since I can't lay my hands on those, I've made about 50 cards since I signed up for the training. I'm using my digital collages as the foundation.  Makes it much easier to crank  out highly symbolic images without leaving a pile of paper trash and cannibalized magazines. But hey, if you have a treasure trove of wonderful images somewhere in your stash of goodies, can you send some my way? Thanks. 

Can you dream too much? Well, maybe, if you dream about creating things  or making your life or others' lives  more efficient or meaningful, yet you do nothing to manifest the potential that you envisioned. In other words, dreaming isn't the problem. Dreaming, whether waking or sleeping, unlocks mysterious forces  pinging around in your mind and shows you possibilities,  gives you surprising answers  to questions you've mulled in waking hours. The problem lies in  being given a gift from the Universe  and then letting it lie fallow. Getting that kind of gift has more than a little hint of MAGIC.

nestled together row upon row of soft tulle bright ballerinas Haiku My Heart

I'm going to have to go back and look to see what happened to Art Journal Page # 44. Somehow, it went missing. Given my aversion to 45, you'd think I would have skipped that number. Go figure.

It seems like a miracle to have a relatively tidy in-box and a bouquet of cheerful tulips waiting to greet me when I finish feeding the beasties and creep in to peruse my virtual inbox. I love it when that happens.

I love the idea of things just fitting together perfectly, one inside the other, with just a bit of deft placement. The way that edges catch the light and seem to shine, all on their own. I want that careful ease. I want to shine and glisten and let out my inner light. You never know when your light may shine someone home.

red pink magenta competing for attention which is prettiest Haiku My Heart

Not long ago, I called an old friend on the spur of the moment and made arrangements to meet for a field trip. Even with the vagaries of Seattle-area traffic I was only three minutes later than I'd promised, but it took another five to find each other in a commuter lot. We made it to our destination just fine, despite a multitude of tourists on a sunny day, and had a nice meander and lots of time to talk. Our lunch plans, however, went into flux when we discovered a mile-long backup to get to the little town where we'd thought go to grab a bite, so my friend suggested a town several miles away. There was no waiting at all at her secret little place and this was our view.

Sometimes the artful mind chooses its own symbolism and doesn't rely on words.

I like to start my day with a mug full of chai in a cup that reminds me of something important.

I've noticed, as I age, that women past their forties become more or less invisible (unless they're a Christie Brinkley or other beautiful former super model who hasn't gained an ounce of weight), at least in American culture. Many men of a certain age  seem to be drawn to women who are, shall we say delicately, not age appropriate. . . . twenty, even thirty years younger than they are. But for the most part, younger men would never think of dating a woman twenty years older even ten years older than they are unless there was a financial benefit involved. (And yes. . .  I know that Keanu Reeves lusted after Diane Keaton -- who pined after Jack Nicholson --  but that, my friends, was a movie after all.) I've felt invisible for a long time out in the world, no longer a magnet for mens' glances. It's a relief in some ways. . .  not having to be fetching  all the time in order to comport with the way men