suntannedapples: February 2021

Saturday, February 27, 2021

Swedish Watercolor painter. Pia Erlandsson

Califormia native in a Minnesota world.

Nikolai Palamodov 1959.

Three Girls: Amrita Shergil 1935

rls, Painting by Amrita Sher-Gil, 1935, India

Jan 7, 2016

THE FOCAL POINT
I met a sage,
walking on splinters hard
shards
of broken glass
broken at the hands of men,
men who were angry,

bitter at heart..
He was leaving behind
a trail of marks
and the shifting sand  absorbed them all,
leaving no imprint behind.
When I met him
I was in a dream;
or was I awake and he was in a dream?
"This is the way a sage is given to walk",
he said, "The ones like us have to explain to God
the ways of the world;
and in turn, as we tread our path,
we explain the ways of God to men.
Between their anger and incomprehension
we exhaust our journey and die.
But die we cannot unless we pass on this mantle,
this stained robe of light
to another being whom as yet we know not in this world."

"Where would the being be living?" I asked.
" That's not a big secret," he said,
"He or she could be somewhere, or everywhere on this earth;
every living being is a focal point of all that happens in the world.
But the light starts at different moments in different spots, not all at once,
but randomly, like a hillside waking up with glimmering lights in the night."

And that is the secret of this world and the biggest challenge too
for the saint to pass on his light.

Sushama Karnik (c)

Friday, February 26, 2021

Sushama Karnik

7 June

Intimacy and integrity,
the clash of systems,
communication and the power.
In the midst of the dichotomies
the bud is poised delicately.
It knows its choice.
Every bud ready to become a flower
resists the voices that insist,
that the bud must define
its identity, its integrity.
The bud, in its knowledge of intimacy,

knows that the secret of being a bud

is the delicate poise between here and now,

and time that stands as eternity

Image may contain: plant, outdoor, text and nature

Erika Vees

7 June

Silhouette

Sushama Karnik

25 June

When the sunlight pours
it pours like rain.
Like an abstruse flow of water
it takes the shape of the things it touches;
every form becomes a shape,
a circle, a triangle, squares and all.
Every possible contour of geometry
gets defined and falls in place.

On one such morning of the precision of the sun
I saw her standing in the beam of light,
mesmerized, and mesmerizing!
She was standing quiet, peaceful,
her features drawn in light and dark,
brooding, secretive, lost in the light
and discovered in the shadow
in the emerging day.

The One Who Descended

The one who descended in a beam of light
had a lot of stories to tell.
A frost and a mist covered the shiver that numbed
the fingers that had set out to write.
She came on a starry night
with a gift of a flower in her hand,
though she knew, a gift of a flower would not last;
it would wither before the light of dawn.

Sushama Karnik
Nov 18, 2016

Originally shared by Tanya Dimitrova

The Word Witch

Originally shared by Knihovna Chrášťany

- The Word Witch ......
- via: https://etsy.me/2z9DjRq

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