As We Are

As we are
We are strong.
We are beauty
We glide through the sky
Touching the clouds
Tasting the rain that waits
That waits to fall

We glow and shadow
Tendon to tendon
Our colors praise
The universal design
The design of all
Mythically tainted

We sculpt ourselves
We choose our colors
Of all seasons
That come up
Teasing the sky
Until we return
As we are

The Comment

You’re often in my life when I need you
You hang at the bottom of the page
And when I take a look at you come later
I know that it’s not me who is the sage.

Some times you have a name, you just don’t give it
Some times you leave a wink beside a kiss
At times you have a title that’s important
Many times anonymous is the most bliss

no more holidays

Once upon a time I used to write whatever I wanted to write. The comment function was turned off because I was afraid someone would want me to write for them. I did not say that I refused to help anyone. I try to be generous with my gift. Not that I have a great talent or need to be praised a lot. I just liked to write.

So right now I’m going to write about Valentine ’s Day for those who hurt from not receiving one. Or maybe we had someone special and that person no longer exists for us. Maybe a childhood class was exchanging cards, and one child got left out; once again a holiday that sets people up to be hurt.

When do we as a society see the things that hurt us? The pain we harbour often comes from childhood. Then we grow up and do the same thing to the next generation. I remember finding out about Santa the hard way. I was mad. Why lie? Okay that’s all I wanted to write. Oh, one thing: think about what you tell your children before you tell them. One day they might grow up to be you!

Thanks, Dixie

Readers and followers of this blog

Thank you for taking time out to visit my blog. Quite a variety of hysteria sometimes, but “dc-relief” is always looking for relief!

Some of you have left comments; it is great to know what someone else thinks of a subject or experience. That spells relief for “dc”. Feel free to jump in and let me know what’s happening in your world.

In combination with the valentine thing, I give you my pencil shavings in heart shape. Words are not the only way to say: “Here’s my heart.”

(Oh, that was nice; thanks.)
(Don’t mention it.)

An enticement to write

“I speak when I cease to be at peace with my thoughts.” Kahlil Gibran

For the longest time Gibran’s words were my mantra and I increasingly seemed to ‘speak’ all the time; I could no longer shut up. My thoughts filled volumes of air space. Some friends and family who had never given attention to their own thoughts gave mine even less. Alas there were few left who understood my ‘need’ for expression; as if I were a balloon and would pop if not gently deflated. Until one day it was suggested that I ‘blog”… put all of my thoughts to flight.

I don’t remember what took me to Zimbio; a portal featuring magazines that individual members creat. Pick a subject and write. So I made a “wikizine’ as they are called and wrote from art to politics. “Remove the Rose Colored Glasses” asked everyone to ‘couple’ with my thoughts and together create something new: an effort at synergy. What I found was that most members dealt with specific subjects while I was allover the spectrum of life. I began to look around for something a bit more enticing until it found me.

It had been so very long since I had written anything other than children’s stories. Today I’m not convinced that I impact anyone, but remain content to have my words grace a few pages. There is a ‘freeing’ for me to see my thoughts, read my thoughts, and give them wings to fly. My hope: I needed them to leave me, allowing more mental space to continue exploring the world around; more emotional space to explore what others’ feel; and more physical freedom to explore thoughts that I once thought too taboo to dare mention. Why? Because I had everything balled up inside of me and this enticement to write became a gift.

Like a new creature living in a far-away cave I only played with leaving my space for years. My space that I was sure was comfortable, yet had it been comfortable I would not be here today. Comfort did not entice me to write. Disappointment in the cave came often and I longed to breach its boundaries; move or be moved. From somewhere beyond my sight a light shone and came to rest within my view. My inexperience with writing and exploring cautioned me while my “National Geographic’s” self pleaded to let others share their world with me. Maybe they too were no longer at peace with their thoughts. I wanted to hear. Their lives were the enticement I needed. Slowly and surely I moved toward the cave’s opening and looked at the majestic ocean that lay before me: its only one wave at a time, one enticement to write. I took a deep breath and swam out to meet the day.

Caring for the doctor

My favorite doctor is also my Fibromyalgia coach. He speaks to all of his patients as they pass through the halls or the lobby. “Mrs. Watts, I’ll see you in a moment.” “Hello Dixie, where have you been keeping yourself; have you been painting?” It’s the kind of concern that patients appreciate and want to reciprocate by caring for the doctor.

I’ve known this gentleman about eleven years and every year his entire family goes on a scuba diving trip in the Caribbean. Now with one son married, another engaged; it was getting harder to schedule the time. He was a tad sad.

“Why don’t I do you a painting to cheer you up, and keep the dream alive? I know you’re redoing the office, so I let me re-do the bathroom?”

“What?” He was quite shocked. “My wife is doing the office. I don’t know.”

“If she likes the painting, tell her I want to finish the room in like style.”

It was great seeing the look on his face when he saw the “Triptych” or the three panel set of paintings. Each panel is 28 inches width by 22 inches in height. This photo was made near the last stage at my home. The room’s lighting is strange so I came back in with additional paint to highlight or deepen a few shadows.

Now days when people are kind I have a tendency to want to remember them and their kindness. The wife is very pleased to have a Caribbean style rest room; she even placed some tropical fish. They entire family made the trip last year! The office girls tell me he is constantly showing off his Triptych. ;)

Caring for the doctor is caring for your self. I am still amazed when I see them hanging on that long wall.

Simply a test

This is simply a test of wills... have no fear.
I am attempting to fake out Zimbio and make them think I still exist on their site.
If they lose I get to keep my zine: Remove the Rose Colored Glasses.
If I lose I'll have to remove something different to stay on board.
Here we go. Excuse the interruption to your regular dcrelief day reading!!

Love, hugs, and happy stuff like that. dc

Rising

Often I do not see the progress I’ve made
‘Till more thoughts are answered from life in the shade
I don’t know why I’ve forgotten the sun
And all of its strength that gives me great fun

The shore washes clean from the sea foam at play
The sun takes a dip and has gone its own way
Tall rocks appear daunting but soften in light
Of the full moon that’s rising on my thoughts tonight