Treasure Island Adventuress

  It was fate.  Isn’t it always? The alignment of the stars with our birth time—our path combined with our engagement in our relationships—to our family, friends, homeland, environment—the forests, streams, mountains--my favourite oak tree in Los Hueros Canyon,  water rock formation at Norwegian Memorial near Forks, Washington,  the sandstone undulations at Needles, Canonlands, Utah.  The understory lush with nettles, wild strawberry and raspberry dwarfed by leggy chokecherry shrubs along side Los Hueros creek, Ocate, NM.

Each opportunity from my heart, olfactory and visual senses fill me full becoming sensual photographs upon my energies—merged, meshed, intertwined, resonating harmonically and fully.

I met Treasure Ducharme in an ordinary way, on an ordinary day in an ordinary town, Westlock, Alberta, Canada one ordinary year in what came to be an unordinary life.   She was anything but ordinary and I noticed this.  Eyes alive, quick, and full, love spilling from her openness—her presence fascinated me and I wondered what-in-the-world she saw in my youngest brother, her fascination and love.

Thirty-eight years later, broken marriages, a boy child, countries and borders crossed, weaving a roughly etched engraving upon the earth and our psyches, we meet for this trip—aboard a ferry taking us across international waters from Port Angeles, Washington in the glory of a deep blue sky warmed by a giving August sun to the playground landscape, Victoria announces, then northward up the island to Union Bay where idyllic waters hold our kayaks sway, launch us to other islands to art festivals, galleries, and music jams every day.  Her girl-child wants me to visit and explore with her all the crannies she has explored and enjoyed for the past four years.

The child adventuress never left her--perhaps as present today as at 14. Exuding sheer delight and gratitude for sharing her life with those she loves--her community is the world—pulling and pushing unrelentingly, those hearts she dreams to be united with hers.  A dream of love with tenderness and joy.  If a fault can be found, it’s enthusiasm for sharing life to the minutia through which she experiences each moment.  Exhausting at times.  Guaranteed to be an adventure, always with appreciation and love.

Kat

14 August 2016

What is Self-Transcendence?

Self-transcendence is the living we engage in to open our eyes, hearts, and souls to occupy fully in the process called life.  With engagement, we open ourselves to becoming an aggregate of our past, present, and future actions, thoughts and feelings.  With a responsible footing, we align ourselves with right-action and breathe into the wave of life, becoming the wave—the ongoing triplet as in Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata—melding and maintaining our individuality and joining in the cacophony while singing our individual verse from our consciousness.  Self- transcendence moves us through all the snags our fishing line normally catches, and sends our vessel out into deeper still waters—deep clear revitalizing fluid satiating all our thirsts, quenching our desires, stilling our restlessness and holding us firmly at peace until we ready ourselves for the next wave in the ocean of life.

Kat

 8 August 2016

In Love

Lying in bed alone at night,
I hold my breasts,
My inner thighs,
Thinking of you.

Bug-Eyed Optics--Taken from "Insect" a visual of the praying Mantis Painting by Susan Seddon Boulet

Lingering on edges, holding fast to minute specs—it’s the dreams that awaken what might appear lost, and sent reeling beyond logically retainable recognition.

Bug-eyed and lurking high in the sky above the dense tropical forest top, tentacles wave gently in the afternoon, post gale force winds—illuminated, angelic-glowing optic energy pixels pulse organically with a heart beat’s gentle rhythm.   

Assuaged by the aftermath’s frenetic sparks driven madly in the negative ionic storm centers, colliding when natural elements call forth the need for another earth-shattering dance to cleanse the viral bugs and birth newness and its possibilities—hope springs eternal, even when lost.

Eyes do see, however, all that lingers with bug-eyes faceted qualities, clearing away the confusion and viewing the underlying structure and fluidity of all life.

Kat

25 July 2016

Unrequited Love

 Some things disappear in time and for that I am ever grateful.  As a hedonist with deeply passionate sensual qualities, emotions build with utmost regularity and intensity—releasing with joy and renewed wonderment at each experience.  Catching the wind in my sail sends me smoothly over washboard roads, tipping treetops, breathing waterfall mists and smelling plumeria grove scents.

It’s the heart that takes this journey—the yogic posture, opening widely to embrace life with love at the bow, fear at the stern, and choice and freedom at the helm.

As all things real, as much as life is a dream, physical hindrances pose encumbrances—the glass slipper falls off, perhaps breaks, the horse-drawn carriage turns orange pumkinish at the stroke of time and our dreams intersect with right-direction required for a full and balanced life to manifest.

The dawn comes and we face the new light.  Oft times, grateful for an unrequited lost love, memories becoming more faint with each setting sun.

Kat

18 July 2016
prose poem

Fire

At the center of fire is the inferno.   It’s the culling of life.  The disintegration of the whole into fragments of spiraling black charcoal flakes of carbon—devoid of life-giving nourishing water and cellulose.   The curling into itself, the drying of all the other elements, fire takes, remakes and deposits its diminutive remains unceremoniously upon the newly charred earth.

Yet in its profile, is a spark of energy that stimulates regeneration of yellow sweet clover fields, alfalfa pastures, Ponderosa pine and hemlock seedlings.  That carbon and heat feed what otherwise remain in wait for that spark that burns like Dante’s inferno and kindles the gathering of human kind around its edges for its indisputable warmth and subsequent survival.

Kat

27 June 2016