Wylde Women, 9" tall, hand-made ceramic wall sculpture by Tammy Vitale

Pre-posted

Today I will start my retreat at the Bend of Ivy Lodge in Marshall, NC, where I have never been.  It says there are 63 acres of paths here and water near by.  This is being led by Christine Kane who I discovered through blogging.  So much has come into my life via the blogosphere – I am very grateful!

I have found my water for my Finding Water adventure (as if I don’t already live on the shores of the Patuxent River and Chesapeake Bay – but each water has its own energy.  It is important to pay attention to the water where you are.  Right now).  I trust that I will manage this week’s walk.  And I take the drive as this week’s artist’s adventure, and the new shops in Asheville which I should have been introduced to yesterday, even if with someone else.  Or I can count the facial and pedicure on Tuesday as my artist’s date.  Being pampered as a date works for me!

thought for the day:  What does the word morning bring to mind?  Say the word; think about it; morning…morning…morning.  What do you see?  Think about the earliest, faintest beginnings of morning – in spring, summer, autumn, winter.  How does daybreak change from season to season?

Ware are the colors of morning?  How do the colors of night change as light comes to the sky, to the land, to the water?  What color words show us a winter morning?  a hot summer morning?  What colors are in a rainy morning?…

What are morning’s smells?  Are they heavy or light?  Salt breeze?  Newly mown hay?  Breakfast cooking?

How does morning make you feel?  Do you get up early to greet the sun?  Or do you bury our head under the covers?  What are some words that describe how you feel in the morning.

What are the sounds of early morning, the ones you hear before you’re even awake?  Early birds?  The garbage collector rattling cans in the alley?  An alarm clock that won’t shut up?  Someone calling you to breakfast?     Barbara Juster Esbensen, A Celebration of Bees:  Helping Children to Write Poetry