Meri's Musings

I am  a closet romantic  morning chai drinker bibliophile connoisseur of the ordinary sacred

I'm struggling to figure out what JOY I want to share with you this week. Does it seem to you like things are more than a little bit complicated right now? It does to me. So I'd just like to give you a big wave and some virtual (((((hugs)))))))) and tell you from the bottom of my heart that reading your blogs and learning your takes on life, love, light and darkness fills me with JOY. What gives you JOY? To play along and share the joy: 1. do a post that tells and shows us what gives you joy. 2. capture the URL of the specific post  and paste it into the  Mr. Linky box  along with your name. 3. visit other players -- as many as possible --  and let their joy infect you.   Leave them a comment about their post. Let's start an epidemic of joy!

I can't explain it, but for some reason the sight of laundry  hanging on a line  delights me.  Like this shot in Venice or this one in Egypt. Perhaps it's the memory of my mother pinning the wet clothes to the line  with  wooden clothespins.  Or the way I remember sheets smelling when they were dried outdoors. I also have a thing for windows, especially ones with unexpected pops of color. And it certainly doesn't count as a handicap if they're windows in Venice. What delights you? Gives you JOY? Won't you share it with us? To play along: 1. do a post that tells and shows us what gives you joy. 2. capture the URL of the specific post  and paste it into the  Mr. Linky box  along with your name. 3. visit other players -- as many as possible --  and let their joy infect you.   Leave them a comment about their post. Let's start an epidemic of joy!  

It's time to celebrate those fleeting moments of joy, those times when you think "I love that exuberance!"  © 2010 Meri Arnett-Kremian or "I wish this moment would never end" because he's so cute  and he reminds me of his daddy when his daddy was little and time flies by so quickly. . .  © 2010 Meri Arnett-Kremian or "I don't want to forget this moment, when I was draped like a goddess and worried my sneakers would slip off the wet rock and I'd freeze to death  in the rushing water, but did it anyway for the shot and it was worth it." © 2009 Gail Hoffman-Rule  or even  "That woman's head  would look perfect in my garden." © 2010 Meri Arnett-Kremian What little moments spelled J-O-Y for you,  this week? Or that zip into your mind when you think about joy? Will you share your joy? Join the Joy Revolution! ------------------- To play along: 1. do a post that tells and shows us what giv...

When I find myself in times of trouble Mother Mary comes to me Speaking words of wisdom "Let it be." -  Lennon/McCartney               Retablos -- tin paintings with religious themes -- are done to as a thank-you note to a saint  for intervening in  people's lives. For more Virgins, visit Rebecca's A Virgin a Day . Be sure to read Steven's comment regarding what Paul McCartney said about the impetus  for this work. As for me, I think that when we dream, there are many image threads woven through them.  Some people appear as themselves -- Paul's mother, for example -- and the dream may be taken at  a very literal level. Other times, people are stand-ins for archetypes, like the all loving Mother Goddess who comes to you in dreams to impart  wisdom and crucial information that the conscious mind is not absorbing. From "virgin sightings" both historical and contemporary, we know that many believe that Mo...

It's grey again this morning. Drops of rain hang at the pointy edges of maple leaves at the tip-top of the graceful maple outside my upstairs window. The uppermost leaves are showing their seasonal fashions, but the lower ones are still garbed in green. They don't seem to have noticed that change is in the air. Grey days sap my energy. When it's sunny, I'm ready to take on the world, but when a blanket of clouds settles between me and the Sun, I just want to hibernate. This day is different. This morning, my little friend visited, hovering a few feet away so I'd be sure to notice. Notice I did. . .  and felt the same surge of delight I always feel when I see  that flash of green, the ruby throat, the wings fluttering faster than  the speed of imagination. It's hard to think about hibernation when your heart has been touched by a shamanic visitor.  Today, I am writing. Just sent off an essay on nanny harassment to be published on the new website tha...

If you're in need of a five-minute break, a journey of pure relaxation, I've got a cure for what ails you. It's my new You-Tube video, a presentation featuring photos from my book Shooting Spree.  Sit back and soak in these ordinary, but sacred, moments. I hope you enjoy it.  Love, Meri

So for today, when I'm indulging myself in workshops to jumpstart my writing urge, I'll leave you with three words. Musing. Reflecting. Being. Life is grand!

Forgive me. I'm perseverating. Stuck for now on haiku. Daylilies So ephemeral. Explode like vivid fireworks but gone the next day.

Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs  is people who have come alive. -Harold Whitman Sometimes it seems all too easy to go through life on autopilot. Letting the busy take you from place to place, not giving yourself a moment to consider whether there is any quality in your harried life, whether this is the way you really want to live. I come alive when I stop and focus  on the little surprises all around me, when I let the sacred speak to me and through me. When I connect with nature, even briefly. When I am in a place that has a veil of holiness. When I really listen to the sound of waves dancing onto the land. What makes you come alive?

Sometimes I get wistful. Thinking about simple things like the downy softness of baby hair nestled in the crook of my elbow as the rocking chair gently creaked. The moment when the sun peeks through on a cloudy morning. The feeling of accomplishment when the sugar carmelizes perfectly brown and crackly on top of the creme brulée. The intimacy of quiet moments requiring no words between lovers because love forms a soft cloud of understanding, acceptance, just so-ness. Simple things. Full of such richness. The little gift of everyday miracles, so sweet to remember. But the wistfulness melts away when I realize the next miracle is just around the corner, about to come in to view, if only I'm paying attention.

Surely you've noticed by now that the interplay of light and shadow thrills me. "Light Dance" - altered photograph copyright 2009 Meri Arnett-Kremian. The dance of light and shadow is a source of endless fascination, can entertain me for hours like a baby's hands, newly discovered. Such simple joy, so easily purchased. What thrills you? What makes your heart race and steals your attention?

There are magical moments when the elements combine perfectly, the color of the sky, the merest puff of wind, the tide at just the right place in its cycles of ebb and flow. There is a pier jutting out over the shore that is often submerged, reaching out beyond the land and over the water, creating a bridge to a place of magic. There is a marina with wind and diesel-powered pleasure craft that dance lightly in their moorings, supported by water reflecting their image like a mirror. Above all, there is a pure white light with just a touch of golden sparkle. Camera paintings are born. Light glorifies everything. It transforms and ennobles the most commonplace and ordinary subjects. The object is nothing; light is everything. - Leonard Missone I am alight with magic.