Sunday, December 29, 2013


©2013 Ravenna Taylor, untitled, gouache, colored pencil on toned paper, 3 x 4 inches


Stirred to wakeful
Words stream without start, unending

Streaming stringing

Stranded constellations
Voices seeking ears

Like fingers searching
Thoughts to rest in verbs

Have you seen?
What with Life we share

Is the small I

©2013 Ravenna Taylor

Saturday, December 21, 2013

Thin Ice

Above us this morning, our sky presents a slight grade less pure, less bright, less still, than the snow on the ground.

A hole in the melting ice on the pond, where no tree overhangs, suggests something must have landed on that thin spot; and a hope blooms, that whoever falls into a pond through the ice will also find a way out.

The ever-lovely pond is full of life and death.

©2013 Ravenna Taylor, "Thin Ice," 2013, oil on canvas, 20 x 22 inches
  Photo: Fernando Gaglianese
My house is quiet, only the sound of the melting outside at my window, or sometimes a mechanism within: the well-pump, the washing machine, a regular beat beneath the irregular "chirp" of birds.

The clock chimes the hour.

We have no Christmas tree or any other decorations around; we haven't done that in many years. We are completely uninterested in holidays generally, religious and retail both, and would always prefer to be working, on something.

I remember when we lived in the Arkansas Ozarks, I used to put a small tree with lights in our tiny house; I would bake cookies and send cards through the mail to friends and family.

From there, alone in the never-finished house we built in the middle of the Ozark National Forest, I would imagine the strings of lights as a cord connecting to people all over the world, comprehensible -- I enjoyed the sense of communion in an abstraction.

Now, people are missing from our families. Sometimes, like a strand of lights with bulbs malfunctioning, the whole strand seems to go dark.

©2013 Ravenna Taylor

Happiness derives from activities that bring a greater sense of purpose or meaning. At a certain point in one's life, one might know just what that means.

No more stand-ins.
Heart and hearth - a circle forms, warmed from within, by imagination kindled with memory, sparked by the gemlike innocence of snow.

There are still children.

This recent snowfall is melting on the Solstice; I look forward to the next. I'm hoping for a very white winter this year; I'm hoping for bright crystalline winds to burnish my cheeks.

©2013 Ravenna Taylor

Peace On Earth

Monday, December 9, 2013

Skidding Into Soon

rainfall on fresh snow
frozen green blades of grass
 piercing scrim of ice
stems infused and damp
their color fused with glass

grey sky leaves glitter to a mind that conjures -
Fighting off the gloom, skidding into "soon."

©2013 Ravenna Taylor, "Skidding Into Soon," oil on canvas, 40 x 38 inches

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Throw Your Voice

Take a chance.
Give a break.
Heave a sigh.
Lift a spirit.

Strike a chord.
Float a concept.
Cast a lot.
Reel it in.

Steal a moment.
Shed a care.
Find the time. 
Catch a breath.
Gather wool.
Pay attention.
Take a break.
Give a chance. 

Break a pattern.
Summon strength.