Apathy

I sit

alone

still

lightly breathing

uncaring

unwilling

to move

fixated

on nothing

winds

swirling

caressing

my skin

making

desires

unfulfilled

with promise

my heart

is full

of apathy

with you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read between the lines and you will find two things in one...

poem by Kasia August 2008

My Booty from Plundering

Seriously gorgeous kyanite briolettes!

Whiskey quartz huge focal briolettes. Anyone for a shot of Crown?

Incredible blue flash labradorite. I think that I held these for about an hour straight the other day!

The color palette.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I truly have to say that I have a problem. I'm admitting it! I don't understand it, but I could look and play with my gemstones all day long. Seriously! These pics are from my recent trip to a trade show for all us gemmy gals (and guys) that can't get enough of pretty little rocks. So, I'm sending out a little sneek peak at my fall/winter collection and...the inspiration for my catalog. There it is in writing...my catalog. Does that make me official?

I was reading my friend Gracie's blog tonight and something that she said really struck home. We are always looking for the answers, for someone to make the decision for us. To make things better, to choose our paths in life, to tell us what is right and what is wrong.

But, guess what?

We are the ultimate answer to everything that we are looking for.

We make the choices.

We put up the obstacles.

We are our own worst enemy.

We are the heroes.

We are everything that we want to be, and then some.

So stop listening to everyone else(including the voices in your head)...and be you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope that you love the trinkets as much as I do. Someone has to share my obsession with me, you know!

{Visit Gracie's blog for more words of wisdom, beautiful insights, inspiration and love. www.Evenstar-art.blogspot.com }

I've been away...

I feel that I have been away for so long. (I mean the "me" part...selfish, indulgent and lazy) Tending to everyone else's needs, whims, desires. Working, working, and then working again.

Our summer is almost past, but I have yet to feel the sun's warmest rays make me want to run for shelter. I am an outcast to the sunshine, a reveler in dreams that have made me want for sandy beaches, salty air and blue skies. How could I have let this time slip away? My mind is cluttered, and I am tired. Wasn't this supposed to be simpler? Ah, as I have come to gather in my ripe old age of "foot on the banana peel to 40", nothing is as simple as it seems...or as we would like it to be.

Even a staycation would be nice...to reclaim the better parts of me.

Anyone ready for a roadtrip?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The picture is that of some beautiful glads that are growing in my backyard...aren't they stunning?

Romance Dances with the Rain

I see her

standing there

she is beautiful

porcelain in color

eyes enchanting

whistful and lonely

she is waiting

to dance with the Rain

her partner

her love

ever enduring

graceful and limber

she floats

against the sky

twirling

she is happy now

this lady called

Romance

for she is

one

with

Rain

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

{This poem is dedicated to two lovely friends who have chosen to leave us for a higher place. May they dance forever, with the sun in their face and the wind at their feet}

Little Hands

Today we went blueberry picking, my little girls and I. We dragged Daddy and Grammy along with us too, of course, just for entertainment. For 2 (long) hours, we backbreakingly picked the bushes clean of all that we could find...a whole 25 pounds to be exact. And boy, are they delicious...a wee bit tart, but nothing that some sugar couldn't fix.

As I took the picture for this blog, I saw their little hands...and I saw my past...and my future. In their hands that worked so fervently today, I saw the life that I never had at their age. I saw how genetics picks and chooses traits at whim, making carbon copies that are only visible when you look for them. I saw my Mother's hands in the form of little replicas, and it made me wonder how different her life really was from ours, surviving war by being shipped from Poland to Siberia at the tender age of four. In their little hands I saw everything that I have ever wanted and needed in my life. In their hands I saw love.

Now, I have to say that at about 1 1/2 hours into picking they had had enough. Truthfully, I think I was right there with them, but the berries were just to nice to stop picking! "Momma, this is hard work, but the berries will taste so much better since we worked so hard to get them" my eight year old said , in the midst of her "that's enough for me" moment. At that point I said to myself, I'm doing this right, mistakes and all. My five year old, not to be outdone by her older sister, came trotting over and said "Mom, this is the best day ever!".

Now, how do you top that?