| 06/30/05 Between Sky and Earth Time holds me between sky and earth, and I remember the patterns of my dreams, and I draw them for my eyes. I complete the surface of what I see, and this day unfolds more clearly for me. I bring the accompaniment of what I need before my thoughts, and the layers of my hearing unfolds words that speak between sky and earth, and bridge the surface, so I can walk between them. My life now has a pitch that yields to color and the black gives me room. Color flows through me like it has never before, and I hold a sunrise in my frame. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/28/05 Speaking Red Foggy morning in more ways than one. Much spinning surface under and about me. So much crumbling in the outer world that I feel as if I am crumbling too. I breathe in deeply to center my core and realize I am on stable surface as much changes. Color has reached into all the outer world's limits. The bloom is rising up through the stalk of life and the color is pouring out the top. From the seed the desire moves the surface to crack the shoot to endeavor to reach the plant, her long journey to color. Fruition is always the result of color. Passion fills the longing and the Garden begins to sing. I think it is the singing I hear, not the crumbling. It is the color that is spinning about me. The idea of fog lifts and the clarity reaches through and clears my mind. This is definitely a red day. Speak Red. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/27/05 The Garden Yields to Color The Garden yields to the season and inside the growth is a word that repeats itself like the rain. Color. A woman told me yesterday, "I am afraid of color." I have found that many are, as I have become more of the colors of the garden. I wear black most, like soil, and I live in, play in, meditate, write, paint, cook in a world of color. I became like the soil that seeds emerge from. Flowers emerge from my fingers, my eyes, my life, and I consume color like food. When did so many become afraid of color of flowers, the pulse of life? There are so many real things one could be afraid of. When did we become so mechanized in this world, that our original palette became what we fear? We have taken color and put it in little boxes of separation, and only some go together, while others don't. Some are too hot, too cold, too bright, too loud, too fast, too slow, too raw, too untamed, too angry, too sad, too evil, too, too, too, much like we have done with each other, and the people of color of this world, who remember their original palette, pattern, and sound. I am not afraid of color, or the source that created it. The Garden today yields from black to brown, to green, to red, to yellow, to blue, to orange, to purple, to all colors mixed by the devas of who change the colors of the world. Many people live in green and brown and never let the garden bloom in their life, their home, their work, their play, their love, and their creativity. Today I send them color. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/26/05 Intuitive Wisdom Up inside the heat, but more comfortable than I would have thought. My Life coming more forward in a way that links my body to my soul. I become edged by the thought that I am now closer to who I am than I have been ever before, bu the vision sometimes blurs. In this I am speaking of who I am in the nature of why. There is a clarity in seeking this vision, because the decisions I make are founded on it. Living intuitively is a relationship with this nature, but so much is not laid out ahead in knowledge but feeling. Knowledge is what has been given the lead in this world and the feeling is paced behind, very much like the custom of the female walking so many paces behind the male. So there is a pace adjustment in the intuitive life that sets the world on its end, when the feeling is asked to step up its pace, and at times lead. Even though the world pretends this is now okay, it is only in regimented doses, and that later pushes the intuitive 10 paces back. Today I want to sit into this more wisely, intuitively, and femalely. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/25/05 A New Frame Calling the day deeply into me, I bow my frame to its absolute beauty. Large black crows eating on the green grass in the morning sun. Able to get to the studio three days this week. Pure joy and my frame feels it. My nights are more filled with ease when I create, paint, and write. Creativity is a life thread for me and I know this more each day. I am learning to see myself and life through a different frame and this frame is more totally embracing of all I conceive as artist, writer. All at once I become also an observer of who I am and the bigger picture of the path I follow, I have followed, and what I will follow. I can't always stabilize this frame, but for brief moments I do see through it. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/23/05 One Clear Voice One clear voice rises me 4am. This voice is so close to our window that it penetrates through the early morning dream world. I don't know yet what kind of bird he or she is, but it is amazing. So clear, so present, only one note. This voice much like first thought, clear forward, not repeating. It stands alone and if one can hear in the dream one will be awakened and the pulse of it will force you into clarity. It is like our original intent, but it can fade into the layers of what living is called and I can get poured into other sounds and lose the memory of that original sound that awakens me. This day I call to myself a forgiving for not always hearing its presence and I call my attention to its subtle force, so I can more clearly move my life from its awareness. I am so close I can touch it now. I call this awareness to me and my desire to hear its first note. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/22/05 Edge of Confusion Coming centered into the morning with a vigil of written language that compasses my life in a way I can live peacefully within. Sitting into the light morning rain, as the garden soaks in the moist nutrient. I come to this day on the edge of confusion and I move into the words of my soul, to find nurturence, clarity, and a feeling of center. The day has presented itself behind many veils and the sacred has set aside a presence, a presence that will lay before the conscious a feeling of depth that will penetrate, till the clarity is felt through the edge of confusion and I sit into my creativity. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/21/05 Solstice Full Moon Inside the full moon till day break. Keeping a vivid dream forward, so I can record it. Recording dreams is like recording another life. Being a watcher, a participant, a changer, all in one night. Beautiful morning, gradually waking into this life I much prefer. Dream life so much faster, so many scenarios, this life much slower, more intended, more attention to beauty, feeling, and creativity. Strange I am beginning to feel more awake here, and I think this is how it should be. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/20/05 In the Teeth of Time Sunshine pouring into the garden, like precious gold and my heart flows with the giving of this day. A day to cherish, a day to bless, a day to embody fully. Time catches me between its teeth and I envision it consuming me till I know I am not behind. I am in time and time is in me, and I take hold of this wondrous thing as time and fill myself with its grace. I place myself into the center of the space inside time, and I am it. Like a knight in my fairy tale mind, I ride on the horse of power that sits under the saddle of time, and I experience precision. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/19/05 Rising the Head Blue sky, morning light crossing over the Garden Plan. Calling the wind into my name, I awaken the fibers of my own words, and ask them to give me insight into the complexity of my life. Coming forward with much meaning, the words that unravel the mystery dig deep into my day. I unfold my body to reach into the longed for sunlight and I wish my feelings to have a reprieve from the rain. The flowers begin to slowly rise to the sun after a week of bow. Like Rapunzel, they rise their heads to the sun of relief. Warm sun, which reaches around the waist and supports the back of each stem. Today I will plant and weed, bend and fold, till the Scorpio moon changes to Sagittarius and then I will sit in the garden and talk to the trees. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/18/05 Seed of Green Upright Vision, coming through the tent of our loft room. Moist morning with an other-worldly light. Green squash sitting upright in its earthen bed, all seems to grow. Crows and Ravens become the personality of the sound that covers the green that grows. I feel the resolve that chases me and I sit in the comfort that it will catch me in its grasp, wrestle me down and I will feel so loved I will never doubt again what feeds me. The music of new life fills my ears and I experience the seed of green. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/17/05 Rain Speaks Rain early, flowers deeply soaking it in as each drop gives life to their fleshy stems. The garden reeks with damp notions and the anemone lay flat to the ground, in a bow to the gift of rain. Later, when summer arrives, she will have water deep to feed her roots that creep and clutch across the garden floor. Weather, what do we know about weather? It currents through our minds, our bodies, our emotions and it somehow knows how to balance our world. Like the soul, weather speaks to us and we must hear. Hear the wind, hear the rain, hear the rumble, hear the heat, hear the cold. I must remember that weather knows the way home and listen to its direction, instead of closing my ears and heart to its voice. We came to Maine because it has weather. Rain speaking with cool air. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/16/05 Whale Eye The beginning slipping between my feelings and I look deeply into the Garden Plan. I feel disrupted, like something in the night traveled through me. Some days I feel their turns before they before they begin, but this morning eludes me. I will sit here till I feel once again the thread of myself I know, and I will weave it into the disrupted, till it is calmed into a surface I can stretch out upon. Feather weight is the motion and I feel my raven wings once again, and they are the comfort of Black and the room I need to feel sides in my life. A Garden Plan sits within these sides that are to the color of the pitch of earth. The devas speak to me and I pretend I understand, and in the pre-tending, I do. "This year the garden will run deep and root from a more perennial view. The depth will create a passion that runs the wild nature into a full retrieval of its heat. The heat will create a balance in the center of the eye of mankind." Deva of the Garden Plan... (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/12/05 Himalayan Tea Mist on the breath of life today. An awkward silence in the air as the world begins to become more perennial than annual. What does this mean? I don't know fully yet, but it is a big shift that I feel under my feet, in the air, and inside my body. It is good and will bring great relief from the anticipation of fall. I look through the mist and tea arrives as Robert sits it on my desk. Darjeeling tea from Biju and Jeannette, who have it sent from Darjeeling, fresh from his tea shop in the Himalayas. I think Himalayas are more what perennial is; rooted, lasting, and wise. All the new plants are growing strong in the garden and the shift is felt there too. Today I'll watch the breath clear. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/11/05 Completely in Nirvana Space opening to the sounds of contemplation. Today being my sweet Robert's birthday. I sit up early with him before dawn and we feel the day's first light together. How does one ever completely take in the gift of complete love in this reality? I have to move into a greater dimension to feel all that Robert & I share. A oneness spiritually that goes beyond time, space, and reality. It is a constant and even when we struggle is eternally lit. This is the kind of love I knew existed and had called for it, what I never knew was how much change in my life it would require. This change in itself created the potential of its depth, the soil of its roots, the passion of its clarity. We found out we were born in the same hospital four years apart and both lives were in great jeopardy. We are both strong willed individuals who have found the joy of the collaboration of these wills in a creative union that is beyond all we could have dreamed. To be open to another completely is Nirvana. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/10/05 Perennials Inside the touch of life I feel the press of what awakens within the growing. The day is opening to a new rhythm and the potential it carries is perennial in behavior. Life unfolds between the pages of our feelings and the need for a more permanent weave is growing within the Garden plan. A rhythm that roots us deeply into our original pattern that quietly guides us to a place that allows us to be perennial, and part of the Garden plan in a way that we can expand,spread our roots, take up space,stay long enough to be part of the picture we create, become an installation, a home, a family. Over the acres of flowers we are there are those who stay and those who leave. I want to stay and even in this I don't quite know why, but deeply, souly true. I know what it is to finally be eccentric and these stray parts are no longer clipped. I am planted at the tail end of a Cancer moon and a Gemini sun, where the fairies are. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/9/05 Fibers of Listening A day gives and it gives, and we are part of what it gives. We are laid within the weave of its intention and the weft of its weave is as tight as it needs to be true cloth. We are the thread, we are the bead that creates the outer reaches of the fabric of reality. We come into the fibers of what we hear with a perception of our own need. The needs gather about us and we sort through the colors, to find the one that gives to the cloth of persona we are. I sit this morning with this cloth in my hand and I study the intricate design of my own making. The dreamer that dreamed of me dreaming gave me the life needed to create the fabric, but it is I who have woven the cloth. To live is only the thread, a life is the loom, to know one is alive is the weaver, to create within a life is the tapestry. To be a bead upon the weave is to begin to see the diminsionality of what one holds in one's hand. To thread, to spin, to weave, to be the fiber in one's own hand--- a power beyond limitation. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/8/05 Placed is the Foot Placed, the feeling of alignment flows through this day. I open to its upheld motion. Between the walls of past and present is a vine that climbs from the potential that has been saved from the between. This vine is placed and it climbs the trellis of the future. I begin to put my foot upon this vine and wrap my arms and hands around its thick strong branches. I climb, like Jack, but I know there is no Ogre in the land above. There is hope, transcendence, and transformation. I have climbed this vine before and it has never failed to support me. The highest potential is its strength. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 06/7/05 Sweet Self Up before I know it. Knee deep in obligation, unchecked responsibility, and then I remembered what it is to be truly alive. I peel myself off the walls of duty, I re-shake my hair, fluff up my aura, wipe free my name, and once again embody who I am. This day will have to start again in the right mind. I pick up my true self, hug her sweet visions and allow her to lead me through this day. I have been addled by time, space, and need, and they get nowhere without her hand in mine. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 6/06/05 Planted Coming through the sacred of life, the expected becomes unexpected. The always growing volume within my life advances forward and my untrained eye realizes its own maturity. I open my mind to the vast nature of all that is and I wait no longer for the vision, because it is all about me. I become enamoured with the called of all I have given and received in my life, and it awakens in me a strength of will that I can secure my feet deeply into. I purpose this will with the intuitive language I collaborate my Soul into. Each thread of this collaboration, becoming a fine tooth comb of my own self reliance. The truth embodies me and I hold dear the soil of my integrity. To plant a seed within this soil is to be complete in essence. -- Planted. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 6/04/05 A New Nickel Folding the messages that dreamtime gives, I take into my feelings a shift in how I relate my life to all that spins around it. I fill my timing with a new nickel of awareness and the value of coin increases beyond 5. I change my response to response and I open my caring to a new character. "So that is how they think, not who I am." An angle I have never viewed from. I have always sat into people's response as if it was my own to own. I try to nest in it and find many uncomfortable sticks and rough thread. My own nest is much more comfortable for me, because I can make much from small and it does not scare me like it does so many. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 6/3/05 Timing of Awareness Shuffled awareness sits in the beginnings of this day. Speech becoming a language of writing, I provoke no position that will not support my voice. Common time becomes a stillness that gives way to an internal reaching. To mark my day with a timing that allows the shuffle to settle into a rhythm is what I need. Too many figures of passing visions that cannot fully attain a completion. I begin to realize that inside the rhythm of each intuitive feeling, is the strength of a completed vision, and I begin once again to listen closer to the feeling. I realize I need to carry the feeling closer to my breath, so I will know its fullness sooner. Timing of awareness is the key. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 6/2/05 Listen for Courage Up within the covers at 5am, new light pouring in loft window and through our tent. My body ready early and rested. The garden begins to grow within me too, reaching up through my mind and perching upon my thoughts, like a new spring bird. I think of flying and I settle into my nest to write. Hildegard of Bingen plays in my ears and takes my feelings into her time. The depth of her music pours through me and I contemplate on what I dream again. To have a dream is a treasure, to be a dream is an invokement, to live within a dream is a deep journey, to dream again is an awakening. I listen for courage. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 6/1/05 Dream Again Talking inside the space that gives me room, I ask many questions. The answer comes to all of them and it is simple. Dream again. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 05/30/05 Bending Nasturtiums, I planted all afternoon and all through the night in my dreams. Sweet yellow, orange, and red, all rowed in the pleasure of beauty. Nasturtium helps us assimilate our food, our life, our emotions. Sweet wonder that she is. Then dreamt I collected marbles in a jar for Booker T. Washington, after watching the life of my mentor, George Washington Carver, who talked to flowers daily. Booker T. Washington was a friend and believed in his work. Talking to flowers has become a daily part of my life and the Garden plan, a big picture of what I seek. Rich soil was my companion yesterday, and my muscles today know she had visited me in every bend. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 05/29/05 Cozy Sunshine, blue skies, yellow and blue, one of my favorite combinations. Up early with the new light. Birds, breath, air, sweet sounds. Loft room cozy, bright with color. Our tent cozy and comfortable. Cozy is a word that endears my life and gives me a nest of feelings. If I am cozy I am happy. If I lose my cozy I am unnested and I can't easily settle into myself. I have spent much of my life crating cozy where I go. In our home, at my desk, in our studio, in our car, on a trip, in the garden. I photograph close-up to find the coziness within the frame. I look deep into myself and the people I love to thread cozy into my connections. I write from the pulse of my heart and the rhythm of the sea, to bring cozy into the tapestry of my life. Cozy, a word, a place, a feeling, a way of living. I think I should do a cozy web page. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 05/27/05 3 Omnidirectional Sitting inside the many layers of living a life, I realize that living is an underground thing. It is what erupts into the above world to occupy our minds. It is what realizes a sense of place and begins to move into the sense of it. What becomes the center is from many years of accumulating the strength to be whole in a way of feeling. To feel my life in a whole way I must begin with the rumble under my feet. I must lay open my longings because they wind into my toes and climb up my legs. What is the longing for? To be in touch with the sacred thread of why I live. The curve of reach embodies this longing into the desire for pattern, connection, and purpose. Purpose being the sacred thread. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 05/26/05 It Pours The center of the Garden plan emerges and the language of the green begins. All grows within their green and the rain pours. It pours into the green of new growth, the seeds of our own dreaming. It pours into the deep earth of our history, and the topsoil of our present. It pours into the hidden, yet not emerged, and feeds the green that reaches for the light. It pours into our souls and washes away our obstacles, and feeds the child within. It pours into the puddles, the streams, the ocean, and the chalice wells of our memory. We lift up its poured chalice and begin to drink from the singular time it pours into our space. The arc of my life floats on this time and it rocks back and forth with the rhythm of its Intention. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 05/20/05 Acres of Flowers Sunshine, clear skies, what a surprise. Inside the clear presence of spring are the acres of flowers that I used to raise. They stay with me in their numbers and I count the many days I walked among them. It is hard to gather a bouquet of the full presence of one's life. Even with the many years between that acreage and the garden I now have. It is a mystery why I had to have so many in my life. I know all the practical reasons, but the mystical reason has not quite settled in yet. I ask to know a bigger picture of that time of my life and how it connects and supports this present time. Weaving threads, clipping ends, connecting threads-- a passion for color. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 05/19/05 I Fall Into Up early with the rise of light. Very forward with this day. Beginning to make peace with this new rhythm, allowing it its quick pace with less stress. Falling more into the beat rather than trying to make it. The richness surrounds me because of this falling into. I listen, I hear, I fall into the beat of my creativity, and it allows me to feel the clarity of this timing. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 05/17/05 In the Middle Singularly putting forward the meaning of timing, I awaken in the middle and wonder why the opening requires so much in the middle. The middle is what I try to rush through to get to the end, but the middle is now what I must sit with. The middle is the rich flavor of all that has begun, and knows it is there. Were did I decide to be so impatient with the middle of things? When did my life begin to push to the end? The tapping foot inside the beat of push has just become too much not like who I truly am. Writing Window of One's Own is about the middle and it is necessary in order to be inside the middle in order not to rush to the end. I cannot consume the end before I have digested the middle, and if I try, I will awaken in the night to finish the task of being present to the detail of what lies unthreaded from the rush. I ask for the middle to consume me, so I can find the purpose of what I rush to the end for. I implore the closest of time to embrace me and give me the sight of seeds, so I may grow day to day with the season. The seedlings are only 2 leaves, and some are still only pushing up above ground. I will stay with this, instead of trying to see them in full bloom. So now I sit in the dark and look into the black for more room. (c) Raven Su.Sane |
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| 05/16/05 The Leaving of Apple Mint Lifting space through me, I accumulate the night and I hold my feelings in my hands. I open to the nature of what is held, a deep healing force brought up from the garden that gives strength to my whole body, mind, and spirit. Mint dug deeply into the hidden roots as the fragrance filled my nose and senses. Rich black loamy dirt releases the roots and my hands hold the trowel, the earth, and my frame, as I rock back and forth on my knees to the rhythm of digging. A day in the mist fills me and my night releases the dreaming of what was dug. I sift through the dirt for the roots, so the bed keeps her topsoil for new flowers later to be planted. New memories, as the painful old fade, and the new is much more than the old that intruded. Courage. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 05/14/05 Cray Pas Coming through the sifted position that life often is, I repair my inner triangle of body, mind, and spirit. I feel the shift that is needed and I step into a larger picture. I gather around me the potential I seek and erase what has been uncompassionate to the tender life of my soul, and the exquisite color of intuition oozes into the present moment. Once I connect with the intention of my life; a day, a moment, a piece of creative work, I find the peace of what the intentional from within gives. There is a clarity in this and I can build a support of my own will from it. This gives me room to play. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 05/13/05 The Sea Calls Opening my heart to the sun that lies on the green, I emerge from a night of visionary messages. The created in my life speaks to me and I begin to travel north with the wind. I lay within the layers of passion and I allow the feminine mystique to flow through me. I take into this day the layers of silk that pulse through my mind. The sea calls and I open to the rhythm of water and imprint myself with the colors of my own work. Pattern upon pattern, translucent to the other, and the timing is rhythmed with the sea, as each pattern marks my consciousness with an opening. Life becomes more reasoned than reason and I begin to feel the power of a whole memory. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 05/12/05 Emergence of Joy Mist covers our world and the magic seeps into our process. The garden turns over, and many seedlings emerge with the new found warmth. The Greenhouse catches all the light and seedlings carefully planted push up through the soil. I feel the emergence of joy in my veins and I have wondered all winter where it went. This day feels to just peep around the corner at me. It does not thrust itself into my face and I move about with an intuitive curiosity. I have come to belong to a careful listening, even when all the lists of lists push at me. I re-sit myself and look more than once into the window that speaks in layers, and waves of the flow. I have come too far into this passage called life not to flow. The wisdom is in the second sitting and the first thought. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 05/08/05 Mother's Day High winds yesterday, woke up to silence, but from loft window could see that the gale had taken down part of the doors that created the Garden entrance. Red ladder on her side, blue window facing down. Roar still in the trees. Two key doors came apart this year and we had not had a chance to replace them, so the entrance was vulnerable to the wind. Robert hugs me and says he will put all upright today. The two replacement doors are two of the mystical women doors. One is a pattern of Isadora Duncan, and the other Hildegard of Bingen. Two very strong women who sought the deep mystery by helping women find their independent soaring nature. So the garden plan changes this year & the wind knows our name. Both women worked with the movement of breath and the diaphragm. What I have had to work the hardest to reclaim is the strength of my diaphragm after the birth of five children. In order to manage the creative fire held within our work I have had to make sure I walk and practice yoga daily, to ground my breath and channel the gale winds that rein in an intuitive voice. Change happens in the garden plan and so too it happens in me. A small bouquet of wild strawberries, hyacinth and forsythia from Robert, and a cup of tea. Mother's Day and new guardians for the Garden door. Magic Happens. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 05/06/05 Keep To Small Up early, awakened by an unusual bird call. More to do in the garden today; red fences to paint and magical places to spin. Fern fronds up all over the back of the garden plan; lung wort blue blooming, bloodroot at the peak of her bloom, pink lily of the valley peeking up through the leaves. I feel as if the garden is rising up through me and the joy of her life fills me. Herbal balm to all my muscles as I prepare to squat again today, as I move from plant to rake, to painting, to digging. I feel like Augra in Dark Crystal moving about. Today I fold around the idea of keeping to small, as I work deeply in the Garden Plan. Each small thing becoming my focus, as if it were large. In this I'll keep my focus and not be overwhelmed by the many layers of a day. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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| 05/05/05 Right Side Up The day involves me even in my resistance. Too cold in loft, wake up feeling achy, cold, and out of sorts. Feel lost in the illusional life, but I know I am burrowing my way out. I feel the brightness on the edge of my feelings. I will move into the garden to put her right side up and maybe in the process I will become also right side up. I need her dirt, her groundedness and the joy that moves through her greening, as she yearns for light and burrows up into the open view. I feel like an old perennial that has expanded and is trying to move all her new shoots into the light. I grunt and groan, but what an abundant beauty I will be as soon as I realize that the lightness will soon come, as I get my foliage above ground. (c) 2005 Raven Su.Sane |
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