I CONFESS!

Hi,

My name is Cheri and I'm blog challenged. ;)
... but i can do a pretty good midnight dance around the Maypole at 8,500 feet!
Happy Spring! and i hope you enjoy this new piece of mine.

Solitary Walk

Yesterday.... a guidepost,

...never a hitching post.

Tweet Home V

New Work

Original Fine Art

Tideflows

The soul would have no rainbow if the eyes had no tears.

Native American saying

My First Lesson Book

Cabin Fever Buster

Cabin fevers!
altitudes & attitudes & life have a lot in common.

Baby Tree

*sometimes i have to just do something fun and whimsical... to be kid at heart and art.

The Treasure Collection

On pavements and the bark of trees I have found whole worlds.

Mark Tobey

The Poet's Risk

I have always been on the side of the heretics,

against those who burned them,

because the heretics so often turned out to be right....

Dead, but right.

Edward R. Murrow

Noise reduction

when i need to get away from the paint and brushes

i love to embroider.

with each stitch
i can center my spirit...
far away from all the noise of
the world.

Buck

i live in a place where
a glance out the window might bring a surprise....
one Friday afternoon eight of these guys
were hanging together on the mountain behind my house.
then, they all bedded down on the hillside,
watching the fading light...
waiting for the night.
regal, beautiful and content.

i felt very lucky to be a quiet & hidden witness.

Choices

An optimist is someone who goes after Moby Dick in a rowboat and takes the tartar sauce with him.

Zig Ziglar

Sandburg thoughts

Carl Sandburg (1878–1967). Smoke and Steel. 1922.
V. Mist Forms
1. Calls

BECAUSE I have called to you
as the flame flamingo calls,
or the want of a spotted hawk
is called—
because in the dusk
the warblers shoot the running
waters of short songs to the
homecoming warblers—
because
the cry here is wing to wing
and song to song—

I am waiting,
waiting with the flame flamingo,
the spotted hawk, the running water
warbler—
waiting for you.

Two Trees

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar:
I love not Man the less, but Nature more.
Lord Byron