You lady who walks the same land that Van Gogh walked, if you would have been his muse he would have been painting your lips over and over because yours are the most beautiful.
You lady who ride waves, neptune sends his dolphins to ride the waves with you, you are so connected with nature that you even save defenseless turtles.
And you artful princess or I would say gentle quiet maid (depends on whom tells the story) you are in my heart, and I feel you at every moment of the day. Even if we never meet face to face you are going to be always in my heart. And remember that I will be waiting for you in the little peaceful forest, so you can rest in my arms, and I will tell you poems in your ears.
but ...but.... but ... you know I like the nebulous grey areas of philosphy that fly around the stratosphere and aren't grounded to the physicalness of the planet at all...I don't wanna talk about my own holes...creme filled or otherwise
And perhaps it is the hole of the doughnut that holds the intention of it being a doughnut in the first place....
...and now I find myself in the position of wanting to take a nice long lick and bite out of one. Oh my!
oh my!!!!! This took a left turn ... bowing out of the conversation gracefully ... well, as gracefully as one can falling on her face tripping over her dress.
Ahhhhhhh that glorious space between things.... that pause between the inhale and the exhale... it is in the space between that all things are possible ... the space between breaths, the space between thoughts.
Unfortunately I witnessed the same behaviour by American tourists over and over when I visited London.
I am friends with many American citizens who are anything but disrespectful but there is a reason for the reputation abroad I am saddened to say.
I have absolutely no sense of direction and was lost constantly. I relied on the kindness of strangers that I stopped on the street to point me in the right direction. 9 times out of 10 they said 'you must be Canadian'. It surprised me because our accents are very similar. I asked why they thought that ... and the reply was that I was so polite.
I witnessed a few Canadian school groups while I was there as well. Their behaviour was appalling - loud, obnoxious and a sense of entitlement. The view of Canadians will be in toilet soon enough too it seems...
Sherrie spent most of her life trying to get out of her own way. The times she was successful were magical - paintings and words flowed like water over the landscape and resonated deeply with others.
She liked to remind people who they were by showing them the heart of themselves. She had a way of seeing the beauty in the extraordinary as well as the mundane. She liked to inspire people to live their biggest and best lives.
The people who knew her best described her as creative, loving, joyful, philosophical, silly, inspiring, optimistic, idealistic, romantic, intuitive, philanthropic, spiritual, opinionated ...
...and she would always say 'never believe your own press. I am just me...all the colours, all the textures, light and shadow and I am just a mirror for that which lives in you.'
She lived her life from a place of humility and gratitude. She loved fully and was fully loved.
She had a nebulous relationship with time at best and spent many of her days barely tethered to the planet and she liked it that way. It would seem fitting then that rather than die as most people do she just chose one day to take off her earth suit and walk on without it.
She is the wind. She is the water. She flows through every heartbeat and breath. There is nothing separate. She lives in you as you lived in her.
RE: Pablo Neruda
Ode to the Fairy Princess and Her Fairy LadiesYou lady who walks
the same land that Van Gogh walked,
if you would have been his muse
he would have been painting your lips over and over
because yours are the most beautiful.
You lady who ride waves,
neptune sends his dolphins
to ride the waves with you,
you are so connected with nature
that you even save defenseless turtles.
And you artful princess
or I would say gentle quiet maid
(depends on whom tells the story)
you are in my heart, and I feel you
at every moment of the day.
Even if we never meet face to face
you are going to be always in my heart.
And remember that I will be waiting for you
in the little peaceful forest,
so you can rest in my arms, and
I will tell you poems in your ears.
TheLonelyWalker