Happy summer! I've been dragging my feet on this, but I have two new coloring books I am prepping.  I've included a free coloring page (plus one of my colored versions) for your  enjoyment.

My take on "Interior Monolog":

Monday morning inspiration

I've been reading some very inspiring books on painting and creativity.  I recommend these three for starters:

1. ) Daily Painting: Paint Small and Often To Become a More Creative, Productive, and Successful Artist by Carol Marine

2.) Celebrate Your Creative Self: More than 25 exercises to unleash the artist within  by Mary Todd Beam

3.) The Creative Artist by Nita Leland

And, as always, I recommend subscribing to the Weekly Bob Blasts from painter Robert Burridge at his webpage:  www.robertburridge.com/

Have a great week!

Inner Outer Mandala (S. Rasfeld archives)

Catnip for Twinkletoes

Unverified factoids float through the air,

electric breadcrumbs illuminating a chimera of titillation and desire.

Voracious need and insatiable curiosity 

feed on

doppelgängers of smoke and mirrors, built

a pixel here,

a pixel there and 

breach the threshold of consciousness

while infiltrating the world mind.

see me

hear me 

watch me

touch me

know me 

But 

don't look too hard behind that curtain;

don't dig for the gristle, blood and bone.

Just come now:

gather around, chickadees --

I will tell you the BEST stories 

and all you have to do 

is sleep.

"It may seem that you have no external validation for your art, but you must persist in presenting it to the world. Above all, you must know that it is your job to make the work. As a creative person, you must show up, focus, work, make more work, and present it to the world in order to be truly balanced and whole." 
- Laura Cater-Woods, MFA 
"Balancing Acts: Walking the Tightrope Between Your Creative Path and Daily Life," from Inspiring Creativity

http://www.amazon.com/Inspiring-Creativity-Anthology-Practical-Successful/dp/0976737108

At Cross-Purposes

Brittle bones may splinter and crack in crisis.  

Some mend with time 

yet hairline fractures remain below the surface.

Secrets and lies have eaten through the natural bonds between us and only a thin veneer of civility covers the gulf separating our two hearts.

Tightly held by guilt and obligation,  I close my eyes--- struggling to hold onto compassion while preserving my own self-respect.

With simple sweetness and a light touch
   your smile warms my doubtful heart.
I am a restless soul wandering through a maze of my own making
  and yet you hold me tightly against the dark.
I can only strive to be a comfort in the night for you in return.

www.staceyrasfeld.com

022813

Sunlight slips through the hourglass, each grain

a moment, a single hope, a half-forgttoen dream, a buried shame, a biting regret.

Tiny crystals spin ever downward: white lies

told to spare someone’s feelings, invitations delcined,

phone calls and emails unanswered.

Each small transgression dropped upon another,

A slowly built fortess of silence and isolation.

A simple joy


Tea with milk is comforting, like a warm blanket on a chilly night, whereas
a café latte is a slap-shot of energy.
The distilled leaves are light and thirst quenching, while
roasted beans eat like oatmeal or dark chocolate.
Sipping,
eyes closed,
I am transported to slow afternoons in cafes when time was my friend, and

I fill with gratitude for this tiny pleasure.

Miss Miso



Meditating on catnip



Regarding tonight's menu

Sleep, perchance to dream...



Miso shared our lives for 19-1/2 years. Her health had begun failing for the past year, and she died in September. One minute, I held her in my arms, the next, she wasn't with us. Everything should stop for just that one moment but Life simply goes on. The frantic drivers blare their horns, crowds sun and run and giggle on the beach, hordes of movie-goers pack theaters and Holiday revelers shoot off fireworks to a New Year: all are oblivious that this small light is gone from our world. The house is terribly quiet and empty now. Sometimes, she saunters into my dreams. Occasionally, I think I see her out of a corner of my eye, padding into the kitchen or curled up in the corner by the heat register. She was a cuddly lap kitty, and filled our home with a special warmth.

... digital day dreaming

During my recent period of enforced idelness, I've spent a bit of time going through my computer files and paintings.  I rediscovered a few pieces I'd forgotten about.

"OM" acrylic/canvas

"Om" came through in a bout of anger and frustration, yet, is now a focal point of relaxation and calm.

"Ornithology" acrylic/canvas

I labored over the piece, "Ornithology," for months in early 2006. I am fascinated with the process of glazing to achieve shading and depth, and how a painting is revealed with each thin, nearly transparent layer.

"Blue Mandala" acrylic/canvas

Circles and circular movement are recurring themes in my work. "Mandala" loosely translated from Sanskrit means "circle" and in some spiritual thought, represents the center and beginning of all creation.

Notes on painting and art

...on process and painting "Touch Wood":

This will always be an action painting to me.  Not in the art history sense, but in the sense of something alive, something that evolved into its current state.

I worked on this piece intermittently for an entire day-- this little 8x10 that was supposed to be an easy  exercise. I watched it grow and change as the day advanced; at one point, it seemed near completion.  The colors were beautiful, all soft-focus and placid-- a very different work.

Then, with one stroke, I destroyed that feeling. I panicked and almost threw the painting in the trash.

But, this tree would not allow me to do so. I had to keep going, to find a new answer. I had to give up my own plans and let the piece dictate each brush stroke.

Despite my flawed technique, this work now speaks to a deep place within me.

Concerning the Spiritual in Art

Touch Wood

Touch wood:

I seek safety -- to be whole, and to heal

Slowly my haven emerges
bright & strong
for one moment of perfect clarity
then
clouds waft in,
staining my inner landscape with fear and doubt

the tree stands
but the horizon grows dark & heavy

the air
a humid blanket of damp foliage
sits atop a still lake reflecting dull silver

one slow breath

the tree stands

i hold on

071110

I feel the echo of you, once solid
now
We move in different dimensions,
circling new priorities

You have joined the ghosts of my past.
I have retreated into a sepia-toned shadow on your hard drive.

Who are we now to each other?

Necessary Losses: The Loves, Illusions, Dependencies, and Impossible Expectations That All of Us Have to Give Up in Order to Grow

Kleio

My computer screen hums.
I scan the electric landscape, and out of the corner of my eye I catch a thread,
a shadow of the ghost of my father.
He is shrouded behind the curtain of my mother's heartbreak.
He is there but not there--a name I carry in my heart but elusive.

My father's family--silent, invisible--have never known me nor I them.
Whether by intention or ignorance, it's the same effect:
we are strangers sharing bits of genetic code and DNA.

I try, but have not broken my mother's injunction of secrecy,
frightened by unnamed dark things buried under rocky silence decades old.
I try, but have not escaped the necessary lies she hides behind.
What monstrous truth could still be sharp enough,
still reach deeply enough through the years to shred our current peace?
Can her past really hurt me now?

Inspiring Creativity: An Anthology of Powerful Insights and Practical Ideas to Guide You to Successful Creating

Calliope

eldest daughter and wife of war
sing to me
blind me with lust
fire my spirit

golden throated goddess
whisper to me
free my voice
and open my heart

Over The Top

Over, under, through
The setting sun chases violet clouds across the twilight sky
Spreading out a blanket of stars
As the Earth prepares for sleep with a sigh

Over, under, through
We roll along canyons of concrete
Encased in our metal and glass carapaces...
Seeking comfort and warmth as darkness blankets the landscape

Sleepwalking and blind,
Oblivious to the hum of night,
We eat
We drink
We sit in digital dreams,
Overcome and under a spell of our own making, through the nocturnal mist.

042509
BON VOYAGE

Off you go into the East--
Peace Corps-two-year-stint. Cheers--
toasts and travel-friendly presents at the pub.
we'll keep pictures of smiling faces and beer.
our hopes and dreams and
the-selves-we've-never-been go with you:
off into the East
to teach
to help and
to learn the ways of a wider world.

The Hard Way: Stories of Danger, Survival, and the Soul of Adventure

042209
WORK OUT

Morning!
Time to feed the cat,
nuke a cup of tea and
pull on shoes and sweats.

I set the timer
add a little incline and start walking the walk.

Yes,
it's beautiful outside
but in here my rubber concourse keeps me
on track.

Step by step
I wake.


042309
TOO MUCH INFORMATION

Why did I tell you?
Apparently,
honesty's price is pain.

Confession is good for the soul
unburdened, but
what of the soul of the confessor? I
was unsettled, defensive. You were
stricken, betrayed.

Love you
I did, but
love was not enough to extinguish the burning
restlessness inside me. I
always wanted more. To be
more.
To do
more. To
feel more.

I was not the woman
we both wanted me to be. You
were not the man I needed. Our love
broke--
stretched
far beyond romantic nostalgia.


042409
PCH

the highway beckons.
wind whispers, now roars and
the road ahead sings with speed. I'm giddy
with the promise of forward motion, drunk
with anticipation of mysteries around the next bend.
asphalt
calls to a deep restlessness inside of me, a siren song
luring me
onward,
outward.
and off-course.

more April09 poetry-each-days.....

041809
GATHERING

visiting the family, I
sit quiet amidst
the cacophony of excited voices. The
clashing threads of conversation run
around one another
-- a rising tide
of sound rolling in and out like a wave. Sibling
rivalries seep out from under adult veneers as
I remember
childhood dinner tables--a race
to the last breadstick.

041909
IMPLOSION

hot flash
teeth gnash
I suddenly cannot breathe
every muscle clenched
clamped down to contain

you just don't think
don't consider others
don't see your impact
yet deny
this is so

and so
there is no recourse
no words to clarify
to rectify
to purify the damage

and so
there is no place for this fire
except down
inside

042009
THIS MOMENT

Every morning you
wake up breathing
you're ahead of the game.
in dreams you fly,
inhale and lean into the breath at the perfect angle
and you catch an updraft.
is this what geese await as they prepare for migration?
breathe
and in the space between in and
out--
live.
just breathe
and grasp a new beginning.

042109
SEASIDE

fog rolls in damp, cold
sits heavily on the sand
hungry gulls circle


ABOUT HAIKU
a single image
distilled
fashioned by form
a verbal elegance
a mystery
a snapshot of this moment

.... poetry snippets, snatches, and notions

4-17-09
ALL I WANT IS MY VIOLET KIMONO

Wrap me in a violet silk kimono backed with
my deep blood-orange-red creativity chop coiling
‘round my spine, feeding me
steady energetic streams of light. Today
I am a warrior.


ALL I WANT IS THE BLUE HOUSE

A breath catches in my throat
when I see you are available--your blue
shingles, white trim and open windows beckon me, call
to my soul to fill you with
people
and
art
and creative energy. Be
Mine! Be real in my life, manifest
materially in my life now. I
see the paintings on your walls, feel
the candle light warmth and hear
laughter spilling from your open door on a summer night. I gaze out the attic window to the ocean on a blustery
winter's morning--
happily planning our next celebration.

4-16-09
PURPLE

purple passion
keep me sane in a black and white world
a flash of luxury amid mundane chores

jacaranda trees drop your lilac petals
trickle down and fill my heart
keep me awash in art

violet night enfold me in warm darkness
keep me cloaked in deepest velvet

As we sleepwalk through the charcoal landscape
keep one eye open on the bruised horizon