Roadway to Heaven

  

     Road to Heaven, BLD, ©2011

The road to Heaven

is paved with stone & sweat

Who walks it?

Internal compass,

magnetic glory

leads one on


– B

Journey Onward

    Stairway to Heaven, ©2011, BLD


Today I travel to a corner in a countryside Honduran church, not far from the Nicaraguan border.  The staging of statuary, artificial flowers, wall art, and color caught my attention.  The absolute poverty of the parish is obvious in the photo, but, as always, is somewhat neutralized by the photographic process.  Hence, I feel no guilt in manipulating my photos to further accent the truths I feel vibrate from the original site.  The hope, the faith and the joy in God just seem to resonate in the atmosphere of this tiny corner of South America.  Like sound waves, they permeate the space of the viewer, attaching quietly to the soul and traveling on with them. Such attachment is good, is welcome, even though its presence may not ever be distinguished from other steps in the journey.


Such small incidents knit together and build yet another block for the foundation of the soul.


Step by step, we are climbing a stairway to Heaven.


Peace, B

Note to Santa

Not For Long A Child, ©2011, BLD

Oh Santa,

do you know where he lives?

– B

Where are you going?

     Oxen Cart, Honduran Series, ©2011 BLD

Smear the surface,

peer through the marks,

a soft & hazy world.

Rough edges, none,

no pinpricks of truth,

to fester.

Gently icing harshness,

simply cannot wash life

off of one's soul.

Must God smear the ether

when gazing down on us?

– B

How Beautiful Art The Feet

    Honduran Children's Feet, BLD

One cannot make poverty appear more poor,
one cannot make the discomfort go away,
the swirl of emotions
sucks me down
into a void of helplessness.
How do I erase such inequality?

– B

Christ & The Laundry

This image is the one that jumped out to me this morning. I have spent the last 30 minutes 'digitally modifying' it as is my wont. I am pleased with the piece in the fact that it is bright, colorful, and full of mundaneness.  This is a wall of a small Episcopal church in Honduras. Through the window is a clothesline in the yard of the home next door. The absolutely non-sacred placement is what struck me. Here God is where man is, there is no set-apart place for them.  Poverty allows little separateness.  

Photography, and my adaptations of it, tend to cleanse the images of the actual horror of the poorness of the lives in Honduras. It is a shame that we are shielded from that even in our attempts to share it. Perhaps that is one of the things that Christ pondered as he walked a line none of us would dare, as he was stripped of his 'laundry,' and hung out for the world to scorn. 

May this day be flooded with clarity and may the layers of gauze be slowly stripped from our eyes.

Peace, B

Cyber Graffiti

Honduran Angel - when poverty and worship collide

there is a profound eruption of beauty

that cannot be contained - 

it beckons the soul to arenas

far beyond the physical,

to take up the sword of faith 

and the blind willingness to 

follow into the heavenly realms of ecstasy!

– B

I am going to attempt, for the next few weeks, to post thoughts and images from

our journey to Honduras almost a year ago. They have been fermenting in the 

back of  my soul over this past year and are now pushing to come forth.  I welcome any

dialogue on whatever thoughts or observations may come from this exercise.

Peace 

Several people have commented this week that time is passing by too quickly.

I agree, it has seemed that way for quite a while to me.

My dad used to explain it mathematically:

When you are ten, one year is one tenth of your life! 

Rather a large percentage.

However, when you are sixty, a year is one sixtieth of your life,

A much, much smaller fraction; 

therefore, time has picked up speed!

I think my dad was a very wise man,

if not a little wacky too.

So, I guess I come by it naturally.

Thanks, Dad, I miss you.

Peace, B

PS: I find that walking along the shore

slows down the passage of time considerably! 

I highly recommend it.

A Farewell to John

Today we bid farewell to an amazing man,

he left us after a mere 90 years.

His marks are deep and lasting,

his contributions, invaluable.

He was a recipient of a bronze star for valor,

he was a soldier at Normandy on D-Day,

he served his country in unbelievable circumstances,

and went on to serve his community and his family

with the same faithfulness and devotion.

He always served his God in this manner.

He will be missed.

There are few like John left.

So, tonight, I send a single lantern off in his honor.

Your light was bright and consistent,

may it shine in Heaven for eternity.

Peace, B

Black & White

We live in a grey shaded world. Black & white is an illusion, just as the concepts of 'freedom,' 'equality,' and 'fairness' are illusions. They are illusions that keep us sane, illusions that keep us hoping. Long live the illusion.


On the other hand, a friend gifted me with many branches of various plumeria to root and grow, to include 'Bridal Veil.' I am deeply grateful and hope not to disappoint her with my botanical skills.


Bless the garden, Lord,
but mostly, please,
bless the gardener.


Peace, Barbara

A dear friend shared this link tonight. It is deep, different and comforting.


Peace, 
Barb

Feathered Remains

Jurassic cousins,

etched in spirit

Cave-like dark, 

enlightened

Begun in flight,

completed in vision

– B

The above piece is a small portion of a larger work. It was created from many photographs I have taken of birds in flight. The wings were isolated and grouped to form an entirely new feathered shape. Then I pushed it and pushed it, until it became a digitized representation of a fossilized cave wall. The marriage of ancient and modern calls me. The union of technology and primitive intrigue me.

The full piece will be available soon for viewing or purchase on my etsy site. I anticipate opening by mid-November and will post a link here.

– September 25th, BL Desrosiers

Pelicans Squared

Today I am playing with photos. I simply can't leave a photo alone, somehow I am compelled to mess with them and make them truly my own. It makes me happy, and right now I think happiness is much needed in life. Perhaps my messing with my photographs will somehow make you happy also.

Fisherbirds,

stately white,

feathered flight,

fish-to-fill sac,

adorns outstretched neck.

Open,

wide, 

stand,

tall,

pelicans squared.

--B

Tonight I am taking a stroll through patterns,

what a designer is Mother Nature.

The colors, the shapes, the designs,

small, large, in between;

it doesn't take long to find such beauty

in a semi-tropical paradise.

– B

Tiny Angel

Sometimes we all need a little angel to look over us,

Tonight I know there are some of you who do more than others,

This little angel is for you.

Peace & Love

B 2011

A Balanced Life

BALANCE

It is my aim to lead a balanced life, one of emotional, spiritual, physical and societal balance.


Not such an easy task most days.  How many of us can balance it all on our own?  That persistent ache that keeps pulling you back from a balanced set of exercises, the persistent puppy that keeps me from a balanced time of work. . . Ah, perhaps that is not true.  It seems the puppy forces me to balance my time away from the keyboard with some time outside breathing the fresh air and observing the grass grow, and, of course, getting my share of furry love too.  Perhaps the persistent ache keeps one from going too far off balance by over-exercising and re-focuses the vision on the reasons for the ache, the imbalance of skeletal use.


Nothing in life is constant fluff and peace. We learn life by torment and turmoil. We learn love by pain. We learn value by loss. 


I find Asian styles fascinating.  They are beautifully balanced in all elements, laden with lessons for living. Perhaps we Westerners should contemplate the Eastern forms of design and life to learn a better way to balance our life of over-consumption, over-indulgence, over-activity, over-achievement.


Are we over the top? Have we unbalanced ourselves to the point where we cannot right ourselves again? Or are we teetering on the brink and still capable of pulling our selves back to a balanced stance, one firmly planted in fairness, love and equality. 


I pray this is so.  Pray, pray for balance. 


– B

Floating Light

Floating Lantern, Morikami Park, Delray Beach, FL

Lately I have begun to think a great deal about different customs of honoring or remembering the dead in various cultures.  We were lucky enough this past weekend to attend one such ceremony at Morikami Museum in Delray Beach, Florida. (Okay, some of us weren't quite as lucky as others; they sacrificed their option of exploring the festival by reserving the wonderful photo spot we had staked out early in the evening.) 

It was a lovely event, spoiled only by a sudden thunderstorm at the very moment the lanterns were being released to the lake. Paper lanterns were floated on the lake in honor of the dead. There were messages written on some of them, others were plain. Hundreds of them were being released last night.

The park itself is lovely and made up of different Japanese gardens from different time periods. It is a place I would like to revisit without the accompaniment of the thousands of other tourists who were trying also to enjoy the area.  The photos were plentiful and lovely. I have about 1500 to edit from the weekend, including photos also from the American Orchid Society, and Blowing Rocks in Jupiter, Florida.

The lantern ceremony, as brief as the weather made it, was the most influential on me. It floats in my memory, much as the lanterns themselves. The symbolism, I hope, will remain with me as a spur to research and begin a visual journey down the road of remembrances of those passed on to the next realm.

Stay tuned for occasional and infrequent updates and photos.

Peace,

B

Birthdays Aren't For the Age Conscious

Another year, another milestone. 

The zoo, a few hours with the animals in the heat.

Home, a few hours clipping the dog so he can stay cool in the heat.

Out, party with friends -- great evening.

Gifts that were thoughtful, wonderful, perfectly suited and incomparable.

A lovely day, quite a lovely day.

Peace, B

Just that kind of night...

 ¹ LORD, our Lord, 

   how majestic is your name in all the earth!

 You have set your glory 

   in the heavens. 

² Through the praise of children and infants 

   you have established a stronghold against your enemies, 

   to silence the foe and the avenger.
³ When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, 

the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, 

⁴ what is mankind that you are mindful of them,

 human beings that you care for them?

 ⁵ You have made them a little lower than the angels

 and crowned them with glory and honor.

⁶ You made them rulers over the works of your hands; 

   you put everything under their feet: 

⁷ all flocks and herds, and the animals of the wild,

⁸ the birds in the sky, and the fish in the sea,

 all that swim the paths of the seas.

⁹ LORD, our Lord, 

   how majestic is your name in all the earth!

Psalm 8

Just that kind of night.

Peace,

B

This is the wing of a Roseate Spoonbill.  

I do believe that God was having a grand time on the day HE created this bird.  It is the strangest looking bird, but, oh, it has the most beautiful feathers! Pink, and what a glorious pink it is.  Shades of pink, enough to make any girl's heart flutter!

Feathers fascinate me, and pink ones?  They are the ultimate in feather wonder. Why do I mention pink feathers on a very funny looking bird tonight?  Perhaps because sometimes that is how I feel, beautifully bedecked and yet somehow ackwardly misfit. Isn't self-consciousness a hard thing to juggle?

Ah, I take comfort in the fact that the Spoonbill is completely unaware of his or her misfitedness in the world of avians. We could learn some lessons from this humble and strange bird.  

• Use your strangeness to the best of your ability, make the world a better place.  
• Sift your opportunities with wild abandon, as he sifts the water for fish. 
• Raise that wing, who cares if a feather or two are broken, the wing still flaps and will lift you high. 

Ah, Spoonbill, or Rosie, as the case may be, thank you for your simple lessons, you never let vanity get in your way. 

                                       

Peace, B

By A Slender Thread, ©2011
Encaustic collage with digital and iPad montage on rice paper
BL Desrosiers




It appears I'm committed to making a go of this encaustic media. I have to confess, it is like coming  home from a journey far away. The return to molten wax is something I have fantasized about for years and now that I have taken the plunge, I can say that I won't be straying too far from it again. (So, dear unknown soul who stole my wax delivery off my front porch, your efforts will not impede my determination to create.)


I began my love affair with wax in the 1970s in Taiwan where I took batik lessons from an artist, Sammy, in our village for two years. We created paintings in batik, not fabrics such as is commonly practiced, or was at the time. I then continued to batik for another 5 years once we returned to the states and loved it. I gave it up due to the toxicity of the dyes at the time and my daughter's asthma. I have always missed the aroma of the melted bees' wax and the challenge of getting the molten wax to the surface and laid as I wish before it hardens. Now I can cheat and use a heat gun, oh joy! 


I owe a great deal of gratitude to my friend, Judy, who has been gracious enough to share techniques with me and be my mentor in encaustic art. Thank you, Judy.


Encaustic is so much more fulfilling also, I can play with the surface and leave texture. No more boiling it all off! My initial efforts are, well, a beginning. I hope to improve with time and continual practice.


The above piece is entered in the show, Elements, at the Art Gallery of Viera.  It is 16x20" and is a marriage of my digital work and wax - a perfect match if there ever was one, at least in my heart!


Peace, 
Barb

Revelations

Guardians, ipad drawing, ©2011

B.L. Desrosiers

revelation comes in tiny flashes,

unless it comes in a bolt

time will aid assimilation,

patience will yield its fruit

the spiral walk will continue,

my step a bit more soft

conscious of the world around and in me,

awareness of my part

and so I will continue to adorn this life I live,

gently wrap in filigree, touch with gilded prayer

small offerings of love,

in this ritual dance of mystery

BLD

Prayers for Japan, and all of us by connection

Please send your prayers of love and gratitude to water at the nuclear plants in Fukushima, Japan.


By the massive earthquakes of Magnitude 9 and surreal massive tsunamis, more than 10,000 people are still missing, even now. It has been 16 days already since the disaster happened. What makes it worse is that water at the reactors of Fukushima Nuclear Plants started to leak, and it’s contaminating the ocean, air and water molecule of surrounding areas.


Human wisdom has not been able to do much to solve the problem, but we are only trying to cool down the anger of radioactive materials in the reactors by discharging water to them.
Is there really nothing else to do?


I think there is. During over twenty year research of hado measuring and water crystal photographic technology, I have been witnessing that water can turn positive when it receives pure vibration of human prayer no matter how far away it is.


Energy formula of Albert Einstein, E=MC2 really means that Energy = number of people and the square of people’s consciousness.


Now is the time to understand the true meaning. Let us all join the prayer ceremony as fellow citizens of the planet earth. I would like to ask all people, not just in Japan, but all around the world to please help us to find a way out the crisis of this planet!!


The Prayer procedure is as follows.


Name of ceremony:
"Let’s send our thoughts of love and gratitude to all water in the nuclear plants in Fukushima"
Day and Time:

March 31st, 2011 (Thursday)
12:00 noon in each time zone


Please say the following phrase:

“The water of Fukushima Nuclear Plant, we are sorry to make you suffer. Please forgive us. We thank you, and we love you.”
Please say it aloud or in your mind. Repeat it three times as you put your hands together in a prayer position. Please offer your sincere prayer.


Thank you very much from my heart.


With love and gratitude,
Masaru Emoto
http://www.masaru-emoto.net/english/e_ome_urgentmessage0316.html

Not for the gentle of heart

Please, exercise caution with the accompanying photos this evening.  They are quite graphic. If you are a delicate vegetarian, don't go any further.

Duck Soup

It was a day of adrenaline rushes like I haven't experienced in quite a while and I surprised myself.  R and I spent the day in the Florida wilderness, a place she has spent many a day and a place I am rapidly growing an addiction to myself.  Each time we go we stumble upon something fiercely beautiful, but today we encountered an experience the likes of which I hadn't imagined ever being witness to.  

The day began quietly, water like glass, sky blue as, well, sky, a beautiful morning.  The white pelicans were gorgeous, but elusive today.  So, we went in search of other subjects.  In our pursuit we pulled over to try to capture some shoots of a raccoon who was patrolling the water's edges, but he hid himself in the reeds and refused to pose.  His distraction though brought us to the ideal spot to photograph this creature.  

Please meet Stumpy, as we came to name him.

Stumpy had apparently just found lunch, a ring-necked duck, and was just beginning his repast when we encountered him. He was most cooperative with us and our cameras until the other tourists began to show up. 

        

He then decided to move to a quieter spot. So, we trailed him.  This happened three times.  Again, as long as it was just the two of us he was quite content to allow us to shot his dining experience.  He didn't have good manners though and played with his food for a couple of hours.  I shot over 800 shots of him and I'm sure R did so, or more.  

     

The images, now that I look at them, send shutters down my spine.  I find gators to be quite fear-inducing and don't normally go seeking them out.  At the time I wasn't the least bit scared, he did seem quite content with his mouth full and not interested in the two-leggeds some 10 feet away.  He appeared to be about 6 feet long himself, not huge at all, but then, not a baby either.  We didn't spend a great deal of time on the ground, after his first move, we chose to stay in the car and shoot.  It's a much more secure way to experience gators.

Life and death were right there, raw and uncensored. The coots swam around him and quacked happily ignoring the fate of their cousin. A water snake four times approached him and then thought better of it and turned away. The drama was quiet, brilliant and completely natural. 

My apologies if these photos offend anyone, but I did give you fair warning.  Please know that this was an experience that I will treasure and hold dear. It was near the end of our shoot that we finally noticed that Stumpy has a leg missing, hence his lovely name.  


A 3-legged gator, testament to the ferocity of life, and the persistence of the same.  What a gift from God today.


Peace,
B