I began this year illustrating a wonderful book . . .
Twelve days of attending to what happens at twelve o'clock in your sanctum leading to the discovery of omens to weave a year with . . .
A coddiwomple with paint, brushes, new painting surfaces, and Rumi turns into . . . . whirling with wonder.
Light dawns, and any talk of proof resembles a blind man’s cane at sunrise. Remember the passage, We are with you wherever you are . . .
These autumn leaves are too tempting to leave untouched on the ground; just the sound that rises when walking through them is enough to make me want to disturb them . . . we don't usually think of *causing disturbance* as a 'fun' thing or something worthwhile, but that's where context is everything . . .
Rumi's Ruba'ie or Quatrain #77 seems to have inspired numerous translations, each with their own nuances . . .
"The sound of salaams rising as waves diminish down in prayer, hoping for some trace of the one whose trace does not appear.If anyone asks you to say who you are, say without hesitation, Soul within soul within soul.There is a pearl diver who does not know how to swim.No matter. Pearls are handed him... Continue Reading →