Spread 265 – Joyed June 9, 2015Posted by Orly in Uncategorized.
My little handsome and beloved brother is getting married this weekend with beautiful and graceful Kate. I can’t wait. All this is true except for the fact that he is not little.
Spread 264 – Rush May 30, 2015Posted by Orly in Uncategorized.
I sleep too little, wake up in abruptness. I keep multiple To-Do lists, run run run, eat badly, breathe scarcely. In constant urgent hastiness. Done with that. Give me luxurious days spent in the nothing. In a green meadow.
Spread 263 – Retreats May 28, 2015Posted by Orly in Uncategorized.
Time to go in, and time out. A moment to trust and another to retrieve. A space to share, and a space to not. An opportunity to bond, and an option to diverge. Remnants of two weeks of poetic experiences on Whidbey Island.
Spread 262-Cover Up May 25, 2015Posted by Orly in Uncategorized.
Feeling wordless today..
Spread 261 – Misplacement of Things May 2, 2015Posted by Orly in Uncategorized.
Going back to roots. I can do without the words right now. The visual language is what it always was. Safe.
Spread 259 – The Making Of Choices April 22, 2015Posted by Orly in Uncategorized.
Spread 258 – Dressing The Naked March 18, 2015Posted by Orly in Uncategorized.
Spread 255 – Payne’s Gray February 26, 2015Posted by Orly in Uncategorized.
Working working working on the pages of my animal anatomy book, the one I got from my good, good to me friend. Altering them, to almost no recognition. Witnessing once again my sweet and comforting uncertainties, the ones that make me, me. In utter love with Payne’s Gray. In the middle of black and blue, where mystery resides. In excitement to see what will decide to stay after the constant movement from veiling to unveiling. Claiming advancement. Going back to the knowing that all falls into place in the end, since the beginning of time. All sorts of things end up here, including a piece of very worn out tarp found by the river that is connected to the ocean by the coast of Oregon. Payne’s Gray from the tube creating background to receive the miraculously matching Payne’s Gray that is engrained in the tarp. It’s really not Payne’s gray any more. It’s mine now.