Visual-Voice

Just Rest

Susan — Sun, 16 Dec 2012 17:14:29 +0000

This is a repost from my old blog–an entry from November, 2006 when I was experiencing deep heartbreak during the holiday season. My memory of this poem was brought to the surface this morning by a prompt in the 137 Days Project, created by the beautiful Patti Digh.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Just sit there right now
Don’t do a thing
Just rest.

For your separation from God,
From love,

Is the hardest work
In this
World.

Let me bring you trays of food
And something
That you like to
Drink.

You can use my soft words
As a cushion
For your
Head.

~ Hafiz, The Gift

After worst of weeks she put an end
to all her rum•pa•pum•pumming.

The tell-tale catatonic stare betrayed
an ocean swelling inside of her.

Time to rest the heart and stop the mind.
The wise and old familiar chair
stuffed with words to comfort her.

Poor dear… she’s an artist, you see,
and was never made for soldiering.
Misfit toys sometimes get annoyed
with wounds and endless wandering.

No more fighting.
No more thinking.
An end to swan’s song singing.

Just trust
and rest
your weeping head
on feathers friends are bringing.

~ Susan J. Preston

Image shot in my favorite antique mall in Kansas City.

Bite Your Bum!

Susan — Wed, 08 Jun 2011 16:09:07 +0000

How do you say “Beware of the Dog” without any typography? This Santa Fe dog owner on Canyon Road does it brilliantly. There are so many things I love about this town.

Smoke c/o Arizona

Susan — Tue, 07 Jun 2011 18:51:06 +0000

Before heading out to celebrate my beau, Larry’s, birthday last night, a massive plume of smoke moved in from the west over The City Different (that would be Santa Fe). We were sipping scotch whisky out on the patio, taking our time before heading out to celebrate his birthday, and I kept pointing at the sky and saying, “Wow! Look at the color of the sky, it’s all peachy!” Followed by, “Wow! It’s totally changing, now it’s PINK!”

Shot facing eastward just as we got in the car to go to Larry’s birthday dinner.

Over the course of only 30 minutes, the entire sky was transformed into an eerie wonderland scene – and then it hit: the choking smell of what smelled like campfire smoke. You’d have thought the fire was just down the road, but no, another plume from Arizona had swept in from 400 miles away. It was utterly amazing, folks! I could almost hear the witches from the opening scene of Macbeth cackling in the distance, “By the pricking of my thumb, something wicked this way comes!”

When we returned from the Thai restaurant (most awesome wonton soup ever!) the crescent moon was a deep shade of orange, and turning redder by the minute.

Today, weather reports indicate the smoke will continue to intensify (if this is possible) over the next 2-3 days. With all the dust in the air, there’s sure to be some wild sunsets in the cards this week.

My heart goes out to all the beings suffering so much loss out there. Nature has her ways, doesn’t she?

Self Portrait & Randy’s Painting

Susan — Tue, 24 May 2011 22:23:14 +0000

I’m so lucky. The casita I’m subletting is fully furnished, including walls filled with my landlord’s original paintings. It’s a bit like living in a gallery, really.

Did I say, I’m so lucky?

Wall, Mountain & Me

Susan — Mon, 23 May 2011 22:20:25 +0000

Three in one. One in three. Where would this image go, what would it be, without each element? Capture any moment in time and you will find you’re not alone; not self-made; touched by so many elements, memories and experiences which all come into being, and then fade. What happens, this awakening to the wonder of each moment? The sound of hovering of hummingbird wings overhead; coyotes howling in the distance; the memory of my mother’s smile one August morning years ago; dry air, swept by a pink breeze feels soft, like silk, caressing my arm. Where do I fit in this scene? Am I a feeler, a watcher, a rememberer? When the memory fades, where does the one who remembers go? When sounds cease their echoing through canyons, where does the listener go? The one who was at once so entranced by a vision–where is she transported when the light fades and the shadows grow?

Who am I? A mountain; a wall; a changing breeze? Are we all these things.. and even more.

Self portrait shot about a month ago.

My Dining Room Window

Susan — Thu, 19 May 2011 12:19:00 +0000

I’m so loving creating images with my iPhone… to the point I rarely pick up the big ol’ digital Canon. There’s an immediacy, simplicity and freedom using this tool which inspires a detachment to creative outcome for me. I’m discovering a new toy, which brings me right here, into the moment.

What tools, toys, people, thoughts, practices… inspire this in you? What sets your mind free?

Inspector Clouseau

Susan — Wed, 18 May 2011 14:46:27 +0000

There’s a catnip boooeaum in your rhoooeaum.

Gesture

Susan — Tue, 17 May 2011 20:50:23 +0000

What is the sound of one hand?
~ Zen Koan

We can find the hidden beauty in any person, every gesture, anything.

What is in a gesture? Everything.

Per Michael’s comment below, I included the famous Zen Hand koan above.

Learn more about koans from Joan Sutherland, Roshi at Awakened Life.
Image of the hand of my friend, Michael, as he reached to fold the reflectors from his car window.