Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

An emotional snow doesn’t do any harm Especially at 90 degrees. With a wet underarm, when the weather is warm, With no ice on the eaves, no breeze in the trees, Let this photo snowstorm act as your unicorn, To re-write the day (in its usual way) To conform to a happier norm…

Well, perhaps it isn't EXACTly a Classic Brownstone.  So maybe it's a BrickStone Brownstone, but regardless, it has the Very Soul of a Brownstone!  And what is a Brownstone anyway?  It is a spirit matter, is it not? James Alleyne (Contractor) & Godfrey Griffith (Architect):  June 2014 Upstairs Beautiful 3-Window room--Before (June 2014) Bathroom Before ...(June 2014)

Hello Everyone, So many of you knew my niece Lara.  I want to share this with you.  See you very soon, Linda Jo. Remembering Lara Calloway 1973 - 2015 May 8, 2015 MacLean Ballroom, School of the Art Institute of Chicago Guest Book "I loved her. I'll miss her. She exuded love and acceptance...." - Carrie Rubenstein View Sign More Photos View all 4 photos LARA LEE CALLOWAY  Funeral rites for Lara Lee Calloway will be at 3 p.m. Sunday in the village church at Canada de Los Alamos in the valley below her childhood home on the Old Santa Fe Trail. She died in her sleep on May 3 at home in Chicago. She lived in an artful world filled with colors and fabrics and images and fine trinkets and sacred illuminations and people with stories to tell. Growing up, she worked in Santa Fe galleries, ushered at the Opera and traveled often in Georgia O'Keeffe country. She graduated from St. Michael's High School in 1991 and received a

My past-tense life, full of dangling participles, A closet full of un-done novels, waiting for their final edit. Shoe laces frayed from long gone hide and seeks. Again, again, I see it all, stinging the air in front of my eyes; Cracking, shattering, splitting, fading, Finally the here and now again. I see it all. I do from time to time, I conjure up an arrow, cat gut pulling— Don’t let me go! I see my flabbergasted sinews dangling loose, Their life swooshing toward some unknown target. No bulls eye here for me! Should I have stayed with that simple dartboard after all? Well, now here I am, a feather for a friend, Sinking into a spring-green branch. What time is it anyway? ‘63 in Paris? Or Milan in ‘71? Why drag that blackened coal-shoot past Into this sparkling, solar-driven day? It’s time to let those finite multi-sided polygons Leap for their circles at last!

I know I missed Easter and Wester, and You, Thanksgiving and Chrismas, Columbus Day too, but my Spirit was with you; I had to make do! I even discovered a secret or two: The seasons keep rolling the hour glass sifts, regardless of whether or not I exist. If I don’t pay attention the matter at hand continues along just as though it were planned, Not by me, Never mind! I’ve got plenty to do, without thinking about how to discuss it with you! Not that I wouldn’t enjoy the exchange, If it weren’t so totally hard to arrange. I think I’ll go look for a wish and a star. I found one! My gosh! And it isn’t that far! What a beauty, oh my! Has it always been there? In my eyes, in my care, It’s just too much to bear. Easter in Central Park ~ 2015

Along the Williamsberg Bridge to  Bedford Stuyvesant Entering Monroe Street Beautiful Woman Sitting on Staircase Upstairs