NOTE TO READERS

i'm changing blog sites. eventually i will just get my own domain and stop moving around so much, but for now i've found one that suits my needs. so if you're familiar or new, please check out

www.granolapath.tumblr.com

much love,
britta


8.26.2009

a speck of color turned to song


and there i was, engaged in creation and in color, immersed in music, steeped in though, experiencing the pulse and movement of vibration.

love is a pure vibration
and
love is
what i am needing the most. to give of it freely.
to be given it creatively.

the sun spilled across my papers and the warm breeze brought their stiff edges to life. my thirst was overwhelming but was put off by my yearning to create, to explore, to somehow nurture that small sacred portion of my soul which pleads
for color
for movement
for change

"If I speak in tongues of men and of angels but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal". -1 Corinthians 13:1

lately i've felt myself perhaps a resounding gong, a picture with no form- colors simply spread chaotically across a vast empty canvas. i spend time with my loved ones, i spend time doing those things which i love to do, yet am i truly loving others in the way that i am called to, how i desire to?

i fear my love and my service to others (be them strangers, professionals, lovers, friends, sisters, fathers, brothers, dead mothers, the empowered and the unemployed) has been lacking; therefore my most creative expectations and efforts are not reaching their full potential, their full vibration. sketches remain lifeless, social engagements and responsibilities lack their luster, the joyous giggle that results from selfless giving and love...

my painting is still far from complete, far from my satisfaction, and as we, she the muse and i the poet, the painter, the listener sit together in the afternoon heat, suddenly my paintbrush learns to skip, and my heart begins to flutter and all around me the music becomes alive
alive with song, with rejoice, with freedom
sitting leads to painting and painting leads to singing and singing can lead to nothing else but dancing and dancing leads to exuberance and....

suddenly there it all returns to silence, a brief equipoise. out of breath my hair in my face and my forehead collecting small beads of sweat. my ears are buzzing with the stillness, the vibration of love flowing through me and around me...

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