Becky Jo Minsky Artist

"Through Sunlight And Shadows..."

2016-03-26T09:49:00.000-07:00

Sat - 26 March 2016
On this Easter weekend, my thoughts dart through "sunlight and shadows" like a flock of swallows, as they feed upon what sustains them. Sometimes swooping over fertile fields of my imagination. Abloom with precious flowers of Hope.. They linger there more than often... to play with their "food". Flitting through the sun-warmed fragrance of sweet Memories... calm and happy times shared with beloved friends and family members during unexpected lulls between the storms. Of lazy, summer days filled with play and laughter that still echoes through the air. Of joyful times when I explored a new terrain on lands I thought I knew until then. Discovering Nature's wonders wherever I might wander. Always on "safari" hunting blackberries whether in season or not. Sometimes finding the fruits of my Great Expectations to gorge upon, like some wild beast of the woods and fields I played in at the Family Farm, when I was young and innocent as. Savoring the amazing taste of a purely delicious moment of my Eternal Youth, that I can still TASTE upon my tongue.

Sometimes my thoughts soar over wide expanses of concrete paving, cracked here and there from extremes unanticipated, and stressful factors. Surrounded by tall, towers of stone, glass, metal and concrete. Most that block the sunlight... hide the moon and stars we need to see to steer by. Though some reflect the lights well enough. Rigid monuments to Big Business, Foolish Pride, and Profit. Shaky foundations usually built upon the straining backs of the most vulnerable members of this society, and any other within grasping reach of those who prey upon the weak and meek. Structures of social conventions and concepts flawed... due to lack of compassion or a common sense of humanity. Much too often, that's the case. Though some are raised as testaments to High Hopes and Lofty Dreams. Not as many as there should be, I dare say.

A place where homeless individuals huddle. Too many other people who have the ability to assist them, but choose not to... pretend not to see their possible future selves... as they rush by intent upon their busy lives, hatching schemes to make themselves that much "richer". While in the shadows, or sweating in the blazing sun... Poverty-stricken victims sacrificed to Someone Else's Greed. Too tired to weep any more. Too hungry, thirsty, sick and weak to move... much less scream in righteous indignation like they should... at being treated in such a shameful way. Too confused from their betrayal by a society, that has systematically marginalized and exploited them. Milking them for what they were "worth", until there wasn't much left of them to squeeze. Now discarded remnants of what is left after "Progress" chews them up, then spits them out onto the dirty pavement, like so much debris. Living shards of wasted Potential and broken Dreams. There but for the GRACE of God am I.

My thoughts streak past this essentially toxic environment. There are other things I need to SEE before I lay down to sleep tonight, perhaps to DREAM.

My thoughts begin to pick up speed. So animated and full of Life, they are a joy to watch. Swiftly turning and spinning with incredible agility. Almost faster than I can track them with my inner eye.

Where do I begin to make sense of the hidden order within the chaos of these fleeting impressions that streak through the sky of my uppermost mind?? They move so fast in front of my mind's eye. Blurred impressions of Good and Evil streak past me fast as thought. Like birds of prey chasing beautiful songbirds that I will protect if I may. Fly to me my beauties!! Fly faster than the Evils can.

When I look away from the concepts swirling around me, and pause to survey the inner landscape of my mind... I find Truths and Illusions hidden like Easter eggs among my preconceived notions of "what is real, what is not... what is truly important and what never really mattered. Some of these conceptual "eggs" glow with rich, vibrant colours. Gleaming in the radiance of my awareness. Sublimely beautiful and well worth keeping. But some are stale and rotten now. Spoiled and grown rancid. Of no use to anyone. They never really were, but I didn't know that then. Best left where they lie in the dark, and dusty corners of my mind. Where they will slowly decompose, or petrify over time, until I finally find enough focus and time, to declutter & detoxify that part of my conscious mind. Difficult to do right now. More pressing issues I feel the need to deal with and resolve if possible.

"Soon" I promise to myself...

I will make a holy pilgrimage to the See Of Dreams. I will walk along an endless beach, gathering found treasures washed up on the sands of Time. I will sit and watch the waves rush in and out... until a CALM washes over me. I will feel the salty wind BLOW through my soul. Let it CLEANSE my heart and PURIFY my mind. Then when the seagulls gather for a feast... screeching "Mine!! Mine!! Mine!!". I'll cast my rotten Easter eggs upon the beach and in the See...the ones that I no longer wish to keep. I know that seagulls eat almost anything. Whatever they miss, the crabs will take.

A comforting thought. Now time to sleep. The Easter Bunny draws nigh, with a basketful of brand-new Treats.

Happy Easter to all, wherever you may sleep tonight. Whether in a soft and comfy bed, behind closed doors, all safe and sound. In a loved one's embrace or by yourself. Or locked within a prison cell framed for crimes you are innocent of. Whether under a bridge on cold concrete. Or upon a bench within the park. Or in the alleyway in your sleeping bag. Or on the night train, going round and round to nowhere in particular. Wherever you may sleep this night upon the Edge Of Nothing underneath the stars you cannot see... God watches over all of us. Sometimes for Reasons we cannot understand, when we WISH that He would ACT instead. Though the night may be long, and cold and dark. Try not to fear. Try not to hate, or give in to Despair. Tomorrow dawns another Momentous Day. As long as we are still alive, MIRACLES can happen. Just wait and see.

Becky Jo Hull aka Minsky

Original Artwork On Exhibit At Tap Gallery, Surry Hills, Sydney, Australia

2016-03-25T09:13:00.000-07:00

After years of going without gallery representation, I have been fortunate enough to find an art gallery shrewd enough to focus on emerging artists such as myself. I currently have two original oil paintings entered into Tap Gallery's ongoing "Cats, Dogs & Best Friends" group show that opened Tuesday, 22 March 2016. This exhibit will run until Sunday, 03 April 2016. The gallery has relocated to 1/259 Riley St, Surry Hills, Sydney, Australia. Phone: (02) 9361 0440... Email:info@tapgallery.org.au
The owner/manager is Leslie Dimick (God BLESS her!!).
The gallery is open every day I believe, from 12noon - 6pm.

I am offering a smaller painting titled "Joy And Sorrow". I am selling it for $700.... This painting received a "Highly Commended" Award at the Fairfield Arts Exhibit held at Club Marconi a number of years back. Just before our first "No Grounds" eviction if I remember right.

The larger painting I entered in this exhibit is titled "Refuse To Despair". I am selling this painting for $3,000... I exhibited this painting at the Royal Easter Show. I started this painting while married to my 3rd husband, Alan the Snake-In-The-Grass. When the marriage ended, I left The Snake, along with most of my possessions. However, this unfinished painting came with me. I met my 4th husband John, 9 days after I left the Snake. After I VOWED I would never LOVE again!! The day we met he told me it was a "momentous day" and that "timing is everything".

After I left the Snake, I was homeless for 3 months. During that time I stayed with my only friend in Australia, Kay Lee. During that period, John courted me as only he could. I moved in with him at the end of that 3 month period, & eventually finished "Refuse To Despair".

I exhibited both of these paintings at the "Value Your Mind" exhibit sponsored by Catholic Care I think. The exhibit was held at Bungaribee(?) Community Centre (close to Doonside) in October 2015 (Mental Health month). I was interviewed on Opening Night for that exhibit. They have it in their video archives somewhere.

Any sales from these two paintings less the cost of my entry fee & commission owed to Tap Gallery... will help cover some of my husband John's ongoing alternative medical treatments not covered by Medicare. If there is any money left over, it will be applied towards my upcoming tuition costs when it is time to enroll at Sydney University to study at Sydney College Of Fine Arts for my long-delayed Bachelor Of Visual Arts Degree. - Becky Jo

From My Heart To Yours...

2016-03-25T08:02:00.000-07:00

Good Friday - 25 March 2016 ... I haven't posted on this blog for a long time for a variety of reasons. Well... the fact that this blogspot started malfunctioning right after I spent a serious amount of time uploading several photos which soon mysteriously disappeared for no apparent reason, certainly caused a lot of problems. I didn't feel comfortable uploading anything else until I could find out why the photos suddenly went missing, & could trust it wouldn't happen again. After countless frustrating attempts to contact the individuals who are supposed to maintain this blogspot, with no success, I finally gave up & started a new blog at "www.ieyeofthestorm.tumblr.com". I have not had any technical problems with my 2nd blog. So if you want to see a more complete range of my creative works, I suggest you make your way there. I still keep this first blog though, because it has a statistical counter that tells me how many times my first blog has been viewed, that individuals from all over the world are looking at. Which I find fascinating. Because I know my work is "different". Yet it appeals to people from all kinds of cultures. I love to think that my creative works might be a source of joy and inspiration for so many people who have such a wide range of cultural backgrounds. I regret I don't have any of my artistic photos on my second blog yet. No new posts for several years actually. What can I say?? My life has been rather... "peculiar" and at times incredibly stressful since I started this blog. Since 2007 - 2008, my 4th husband John (who is also an artist) & I were evicted from the places we rented, lived in & had our art studios set up. Due to the properties being sold, the new owners wanting to renovate, so they could charge more rent, & we were in the way - "No Grounds". The last eviction was by property developers last July 2015. They demolished the old house we rented in Bankstown for six years, along with 3 adjacent properties. We and the other tenants were put at risk of being made homeless (again), so the property developers could build a $26 million luxury residential complex. A 1 bedroom apartment there is initially selling for $450,000. We fought the eviction for about 8 1/2 months because the first two eviction notices we received were illegal. Also because I was trying to save the garden design & maintenance business I had started from "scratch". Which I had worked on night and day for about three very intense years, and considered to be a special & unique form of land art. At the time we received the 1st illegal eviction notice about a week before Christmas 2014, it was in the middle of my busy season, during one of the hottest years on record. I had several gardens begun that were "works-in-progress". Although the majority of the plants I used in my gardens were highly drought-resistant. Most of them were not established enough to be left alone for the length of time it would take us to find a new place to live, raise the needed funds to move with, make the necessary preparations to organize the move, along with the time, effort & focus it would require during the actual move itself, then the time it would take to unpack & get settled in, before I could begin working on my gardens again. All this was happening just as my gardens were finally starting to pay off. I had invested all of our spare cash into my business. I couldn't afford to lose it. So yes, of course we "did not go gentle into that good night...". Fighting the last eviction was a lengthy, time-consuming process, terribly distracting, & of course very destabilising. In the end, my garden design & maintenance business was destroyed. The income we were receiving from my business was lost. Which made it even harder to bear the multiple costs of our latest forced relocation. Eventually, we received the third eviction notice. Which was "legal" & we were given 30 days to find a new place that was inhabitable, affordable & somewhat suitable to rent & relocate to. With the help of our friend Michael (who works full-time), it took us about 3 weeks to move everything we didn't have time to get rid of, needed and/or wanted to keep. We now live in a small 2 bedroom villa that is half the size of the house we were living in. Every time we have been forced to relocate, we have had to borrow money and/or spend all our money to avoid being made homeless & prevent losing everything we have worked so hard to create & hold dear. Every time we have been forced to move, our art studio was destroyed & required a great deal of extra time, money, effort & focus to rebuild. Every time we have been forced to move, I have been seriously injured due to lifting heavy objects that my body is just not designed to carry. Because we couldn't afford to hire removalists to help us relocate. Every time I suffered those personal injuries, it has taken me anywhere from a few months to about two years to recover from the injuries I sustained during each forced relocation for the sake of "progress". Every time we have been forced to move, we ended up losing the majority of our furniture, which we had to replace eventually when possible, or do without. From personal experience I can say that current laws and "rights" for renters in the "Lucky Country" are essentially destructive & incredibly destabilizing. They favor the property developers, & essentially... all those new developments are built by way of sacrificing the lives of the tenants they displace... We are forced to "pay for" those new developments being built - in terms of blood, sweat, tears & money we usually don't have to spare. It is one of the most unsustainable, destabilizing, destructive "legal", socially accepted and commonly practiced big business practices I have ever experienced. I daresay property developers, along with the council members they bribe to allow them to force more unfortunate tenants living in the wrong place at the wrong time in their districts into another vicious round of "musical houses"... the real estate companies & property managers that more often than not are willing to sacrifice the legal rights, finances, whatever peace of mind they may have had, & health of the tenants they are supposed to represent to the highest bidder... with the assistance of the lawmakers who draft & pass laws designed to systematically victimize and effectively marginalise the most vulnerable, displaced tenants... All those greed-driven individuals are responsible for the majority of the rapidly increasing population of homeless people in Australia and many other nations around the World. We are all connected in the Web of Life. What affects one, affects all sooner or later to some degree for Good or for Bad. This highly destabilizing & personally disruptive business practice is exponentially causing a multitude of social problems over time, that among other things, insidiously undermine & erode the very foundations of any society in which they are allowed to operate. Make no mistake... as an artist, designer, budding author & poet... I do not forget the many evils & flaws I have seen & encountered in our so-called modern society. In the back of my mind, I am automatically considering the most effective way to express & communicate the full implications and dangers of such destructive behaviors & social constructs that serve to marginalise the most vulnerable members of any society for the sake of the pleasures & amusements of a privileged, yet foolish & socially irresponsible few. Having lived on the Edge Of Nothing as long as I have, I daresay I have a very deep understanding of the precarious balance of modern society. Because I know that most of its foundations are built on the misery, disadvantage & systematic victimization & marginalization of the weakest & most vulnerable members of that society. That a complex series of business industries exist purely to use the least fortunate & most troubled members of society as a "reliable" source of revenue. Some of the misfortunes that many long-suffering individuals living on the Edge have been forced to endure have even been "intentionally manufactured" for the purpose of "milking them" for what they are worth from birth to death, & everything in between. Make no mistake... for those of you who are reading this blog, who are presently enjoying the safety, comfort & buffering environment of living in the mainstream, or even those of you at the heart of privileged society. But for the Grace of God/Allah/Buddha... whatever you call the Creator... at any time, at any place... your little "piece of Heaven" could easily change to Hell, Purgatory or Limbo in the blink of an eye. If and, or when that happens... when the "Winds Of Change" threaten to blow you off the Edge... what will you do? How will you endure & survive? How will you find the strength of will & focus to rise above your limitations for your sake & those you love & care about then? By the way, after our last forced relocation, my husband John has been very sick & in increasingly constant pain. I thought he had seriously injured his back during our last move. He put off going to the doctor as long as he could. He finally saw a new GP in St Mary's in Dec 2015 & had some tests made. Because of Christmas & New Year holidays, he didn't get his test results back until 18 Jan 2016. The test results indicated lung cancer. More tests were done to determine just how bad the situation was. It took another month to get detailed results. John has Stage IV non small cell lung cancer. He has about 4 or 5 tumours in both lungs. According to conventional medical treatments & procedures... his cancer is inoperable & incurable. I am 59 years old, going on 60,000 (in artist years). I have been married four times, divorced twice & widowed at age 42 when my 2nd husband, Steven Craig Minsky died a very bad death at age 43. Once again, I am a widow standing at an open grave. Last November 2015, I came to the realization that as long as we rent, John & I will always be vulnerable to unexpected & disastrous evictions & the resulting extra costs & associated injuries. So I decided it was time to MAKE A CHANGE. Against all odds, I went to Open Portfolio Day at Sydney University's College Of Fine Arts & showed my portfolio. The teacher who interviewed me passed me within five minutes after I sat down. He was laughing throughout the entire interview. I then applied for admission to Sydney University to enroll at their College Of Fine Arts to pursue my long-delayed Bachelor Of Visual Arts degree. I received an offer from Sydney University about a week after we first learned about John's cancer. I wept tears of Joy and Sorrow when I found out about my offer from Sydney University because that was a "gamechanger". So is John's cancer. Once again, I stand between Heaven & Hell. I accepted the offer. But because of John's "terminal" illness, & our present circumstances of financial hardship - a cumulative result of all the forced relocations we have endured, along with a multitude of other kinds of hardships that I don't wish to explain at this time... I have deferred enrollment until March 2017. John's prognosis is poor. According to statistics I have read, he has about a 1% chance of survival. I am his caregiver, & am exploring alternate natural healing treatments in the hope of curing his cancer. I may not succeed, & he may not survive. But it won't be for lack of trying. "Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the Light". Whether my husband John lives or dies... I will be attending University. There are all kinds of scholarships I am eligible to apply for. Somehow, some way, I will raise the needed funds to pay for my tuition. Why am I telling you this?? So you will know that no matter how hard Life may be for you at this time... there is always someone else who is doing it tougher than you are. And so you will understand that too much destabilization & disruption can impede the most passionate of artists. Can make it nearly impossible for any of us to produce our best works or much of it during such terrible times of troubles. I can be slowed down & distracted. But nothing will ever make me stop living as creative a life as it is possible for me to do. I hope for your sake... come what may... that you can say the same. Be true to yourself no matter what. From my heart to yours, Becky Jo Blanton Summers Minsky Goodridge Hull

Flower Queen Entertainment - 2011 Auburn Festival

2011-07-05T08:30:00.000-07:00

http://www.theloop.com.au/beckyjohull.aka.minsky
Flower Queen Entertainment's next Mask-Making Workshop will be held at the 2011 Auburn Festival on Sat, 17 Sept 2011. I will be running this Workshop from 10:00AM to 3:30PM. This Mask-Making Workshop is sponsored by Auburn City Council. Admission is FREE for all visitors to the 2011 Auburn Festival. This Mask-Making Workshop is open to kids and adults of all ages, and is going to be a lot of fun for everyone involved!! We will be offering many special hand-made mask designs to choose from to decorate. Last year approximately 30,000 people attended the Festival, so you might want to come early to see me, have fun, be creative, and have a great day!! With the permission of guardians, masks produced in this Mask-Making Workshop will be seen in our online Mask-Making Gallery at www.theloop.com.au/beckyjohull.aka.minsky

Welcome To The Real World - Australia - Photo Album 3

2010-12-04T09:38:00.000-08:00

Water Bird In Drainage Canal (2 of 2)

Lidcombe, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka Minsky

Backlit Sky Over Yagoona

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka Minsky

Bankstown Train Station

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka Minsky

"Beware Of Triffid"

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka Minsky

Early Morning Light And Mist In Our Backyard

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka Minsky

Bird Of Paradise

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka Minsky

Blue Sky And Shimmer-Shine In The Trees

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka Minsky

"Clouds Are Faces I Can See..." (2 of 2)

NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka Minsky

Thorny Devil Hedge (9 of 9)

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka Minsky

Tree Fern Fronds

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka Minsky

Umbrella Tree (1 of 2)

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka Minsky

View From The Train

Lidcombe, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka Minsky

Water Bird In Drainage Canal (1 of 2)

Lidcombe, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka Minsky

Welcome To The Real World - Australia - Photo Album 2

2010-11-24T05:07:00.000-08:00

Swingset

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Little Tasker Park and Cooks River

Canterbury, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Near Twilight

Amazing Golden Peachy Light

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Palm Tree Fronds And Netting

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Rainbow Lorikeets In Our Backyard

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Rotary Clothes Hoist

Iconic Australian Invention

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

"Silver Lining"

Backlit Clouds (3 of 3)

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

"So How I Felt At The Moment"

Subliminal Clouds, One of Infinity

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Sunset (1 of 6)

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Sunset (2 of 6)

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Sunset (3 of 6)

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Sunset (4 of 6)

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Sunset (5 of 6)

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Sunset (6 of 6)

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Welcome To The Real World - Australia - Photo Album 1

2010-11-24T03:04:00.000-08:00

"Autumn Colour"

Virginia Creeper

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Backlit Clouds (1 of 3)

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Backyard

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Chinese New Year Celebration

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Cockatoo On Homemade Birdbath In Our Backyard

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Cockatoos In Jacaranda Tree In Our Backyard

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Cockatoos Sitting On Our Backyard Fence

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Frangipani (1 of 2)

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Frangipani (2 of 2)

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Golden Cloud

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

"I See You"

Backlit Clouds (1 of 3)

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

"Early Morning"

Iconic Australian Oversize Backyard

Bankstown, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

Laneway

Canterbury, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

"Let There Be Light"

Backlit Clouds (2 of 3)

Yagoona, NSW, Australia

by Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

"Dreamweaver"

2010-11-22T00:13:00.000-08:00

"Dreamweaver"

by Becky Jo Minsky (aka. Hull)

On a hot, bright summer morning,

In the Garden Of The Gods…

While grasshoppers play “Hoppity-Clickety“…

Midst fragrant desert flowers, thickly carpeting the sand.

Where flocks of cliff swallows swoop up,

Then dive round the sandstone rocks…

Deep blue streaks swirling, twirling through the air…

Feasting on the insects there.

A game they play for hours and hours…

There, horny toads hurry-scurry on tip-toe over the hot, hot sand.

Hunting for ants to snack upon wherever they can.

As choirs of cicadas buzz shrilly ‘bout the heat.

They zing-zing So Loud…

They make the very air Vibrate…

E_C_H_O_I_N_G…

M_O_T_H_E_R…

E_A_R_T_H’S…

G_R_E_A_T…

H__E__A__R__T__B__E__A__T.

D-o-z-i-n-g in the morning sun,

Great Spirit felt a Tremor in the air.

Magic Being Made Somewhere Near.

He stirred and yawned,

Bemused… Aware… He thought…

“Dreamweaver is Making Something Special Today.

Better get up… go see what She is up to Now.”

Beneath an ancient Cottonwood tree,

Its waxy leaves shim-shimmering…

As they dance together in the warm, summer breeze.

The rustling leaves Whisper to the Summer Wind,

Talking ‘bout all It has Seen in It’s Far Travels.

They envy It and chat about the Day…

When the Autumn Wind will take them...

Here and There and Everywhere.

A curious lemur sits upon a branch.

Surveys the scene below him at a glance.

Bewildered, he Wonders how he got Here…

So Far Away from Home.

Transported as if by Magic.

He knows not How or Why.

Dreamweaver Knows.

She brought him Here…

For a Very Special Reason.

She sits within the cooling shade…

Cast by the giant Tree Of Life.

Working at Her Magic Loom of Time and Space.

Carved with ancient runes so Long Ago,

Most people don’t even Remember Why.

Archaic symbols start to Glow…

As She Works upon Her Newest Tapestry Of Dreams.

Intent upon Her Latest Work,

She does not care who Watches as She Weaves.

As long as they don’t disturb Her or interfere…

And they pay attention to…

What Is Important and What Is Not.

Her hands are deft, Her fingers nimble,

Moving quick as spiders on a web.

With Greatest Care, She Knots and Twists, and Binds Together…

Weaves a Pattern only She can Make.

All the Many-Colored “Threads Of” that She has to Use...

What Was, What Is, and What Will Be…

What If, How Can and Possibly…

Hopes and Fears and Stuff and Nonsense…

Love and Hate and Joy and Sorrow…

The Full Spectrum of Emotions for All Occasions…

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow…

Wishful Thinking…

Never In A Million Years…

All kept in basketful and pots beside Her.

As She Works, ever so softly, Dreamweaver starts to Hum and Sing…

A Haunting Melody Enchanting…

Of Fate and Hope and Fear and Passion…

Of Dreams Come True and Never Will Be…

Of Cruel Destiny and Ugly Truths…

Of Wishes Granted and Prayers Unanswered…

Of Tragic Tears and Sleepless Nights…

Of Days Too Short, Love Burning Bright…

Of Bittersweet and Incomplete...

Of All That Might Have Been and Never Could Be…

Of Children Never Born and Never Would Be…

All Because Of What Was Done and Never Should Be...

Of Love That’s Found and Love That’s Lost Forever More…

Of A Widow Standing At An Open Grave, Marked By Grief…

Weeping Tears Of Joy And Sorrow…

Now and Tomorrow…

What Happens When…

Star-Crossed Lovers With Curses Binding…

Get Married, Then Try To Live...

Happily Ever After…

And In Between…

Of How To Set The Angels Free…

The Ones Who Didn’t Want To Be.

Behind Dreamweaver’s back, faithful Lynx stands guard.

Familiar Intuition… Keeper of Her Many Secrets…

The Ones She Knows and Ones She Doesn’t.

Watching all the Watchers Now,

Lynx Sees the Lovely Butterfly Approach…

Knows Great Spirit’s Messenger by sight.

Knows that Death and Loss and Sorrow…

All ride upon It’s lovely wings.

Lynx hisses so softly at the Unwelcome Omen,

Dreamweaver can not hear his silent growl.

Lynx Warns the Butterfly to flutter by This Time,

or be eaten on the wing.

“Dream-Ender do not disturb Dreamweaver.

Her Work is SACRED as you Well Know.

She is not finished yet.

Let Her Work with Peace Of Mind.

It is Her Right.

Don’t be unkind I say..

Just go away.

Your Time will come…

But Not Today and Not Tonight…

Not Tomorrow and Not Next Week…

Not Next Month and Not Next Year.

Come back after She is through. Do you hear?

Mark my words, for there’ll Be Trouble…

If You do not go away Today.”

With that Warning,

Lynx prepares to spring,

Anticipates the delicious crunch of delicate wings.

Dreamweaver feels Her Guardian tense.

Disturbed, She Pauses in Her Work.

She Glances round the blooming desert,

Spies the Lovely Butterfly, then Sighs.

She knows Why It Is Here,

And fights the Urge To Cry.

Blinking Back Her Unshed Tears…

Her Heartfelt Pleas For More Time Left Unspoken,

Warily, She Watches as It flits about…

From satiny, desert bloom to bloom…

Flying iridescent jewel,

Messenger of Great Spirit…

Come Much Too Soon.

Beauty sipping nectar Here and There…

It flutters gently all around Her.

Lynx snarls at Its nerve.

Then It lands upon Her jet black hair.

Crawling up close to Her anxious face, so that only She can hear,

Then whispers softly in Dreamweaver’s ear…

“I’ve no wish to make You cry My Dear.

Its just the Time Of Change is coming near.

So I’ve come to warn You to Prepare…

Gather the Memories that You May.

Weave them into Your Tapestry of Dreams…

To Cherish and last You through the Years.

Your Love’s Time is nearly up You see.

I’ll be back for Him in Two More Years.”

With that said, It dodged the angry Lynx...

That sprang at It with such a snarl,

To quickly fly Far, Far Away…

Too High to reach with snapping jaws,

Too Far to chase with razor claws.

Annoyed, Lynx sat and licked one paw…

As if to say “I chose to let It Fly Away.”

Stricken by this Dreadful News,

Dreamweaver bowed Her head in Sorrow.

Bitter Tears sprang forth, Grieving For Tomorrow…

Two Years From Today.

She Wept as She had Wept so often,

With all Her Heart and Soul at night.

When Her Love lay sleeping right beside Her, Dreaming…

Paler than the Moon's pale light…

Of Better Days When he was Strong and he Felt Right.

So Sick was he for Far Too Long...

Heedless of Her Hidden Anguish.

She Wept until She could not Breathe and had to Stop.

Wishing Her Heart to Do Likewise.

Even as She felt another Crack Growing Deep Inside Her…

Snap and Pop.

Dreamweaver knew Eventually Her Heart would Break,

But surely Not Today.

Then She wiped Her Tear-Stained face and Deeply Sighed.

Staring at Her hands that could Do So Much,

Yet could not Hold Onto…

What She Wanted Most In All Of Creation.

Distraught, Lynx Nuzzled and licked Her salty face,

Gazed into Her Sad, Sad eyes…

Purring Comfort for Her ears alone.

Great Spirit Felt Dreamweaver’s Pain…

Concerned, He Came To Her and Said…

“Widow Standing At An Open Grave,

Why do You Grieve So Hard?

Your Love’s Life Is Pain as You Well Know.

As long as he‘s a mortal man, It Will Always Be So.

Be Thankful for the Time You Both Have Together.

Don’t Dwell on What You Cannot Change.

Enjoy It While You can, As You can, When You can.

Enjoy It While You May.

Don’t let the Love that You Two Share be wasted.

It is a SACRED Gift I say.

The sun is shining, the birds are singing,

Fragrant blooms perfume the air.

The grass is green, the wind is soft and lazy…

Embrace Your Love.

Live In The Moment.

Time Enough for You Two to Go And Play.

Enjoy the Time You Two Share Together.

Enjoy It While You May.

The Winds Of Change won’t Blow through Here,

Until Two Years From Today.”

Dreamweaver glared at Great Spirit long and hard.

Her red, swollen eyes were Bright with stifled Rage and Pain.

She Did Not Want To Hear His Words.

She Knew the Storm would Come Someday…

And Bitterly Resented It.

It was Not Fair, It was Not Right.

It Should Not Be This Way!!!

Her throat was tight.

She could not Speak the Words She wanted to Say…

To Convince Great Spirit…

Not to let Lovely Butterfly Take Her Love Away.

In Utter Dismay, Dreamweaver Looked Back…

At Her Newest Work only Just Begun.

Tapestry Of Dreams Left Unfinished…

Now An Open Portal To Other Realms,

With Wild Magic Seeping Through the Tangled Threads Of.

Sparkling drips of Potential Scattered…

Sprinkled on the ground…

Pooling where they Fell, then slowly Soaking Down, Down, Down…

To the Molten Heart of Mother Earth Far Beneath Her feet.

Deep In Despair at the Thought Of Losing…

All That She Held Dear…

The Creative Spark Within Her Began To Flicker, Began To Dim.

The Beauty that She Created in Her Tapestry Of Dreams...

Now Mocked Her, Now Seemed a Waste Of Time.

What Matter Now the Work She Did?

Her Heart Was Breaking, even as Her Love was Dying…

Cell By Cell and Day By Day.

What Matter Now the Work She Did?

It Did Not Matter Anymore.

Even As Her Love was Fading, Her Dreams were Dying .

Let the Tapestry Of Dreams Stay That Way!!!

As Unfinished as Her Life would Be!!!

Thoroughly Disgusted Now,

At What the Future Held for Her,

And All That Made Her What She Was…

Her Faith Betrayed…

Wounded To The Core By Fear Of Loss…

Dreamweaver Rose without a Word.

Then Turned Her Back Upon Great Spirit…

And Began to Walk Away.

No More would She Weave The Tapestry Of Dreams.

“I’ve Had Enough”, He Heard Her softly Say.

“If I cannot Have What I Want and Need,

Then No Longer Will I Stay and Weave.

What does Life mean to me Now?

No More SACRED Gift…

But just Another Day Closer…

To Losing Everything I Cherish.

I cannot Work This Way.

“Leave Me Alone.

Find Someone Else…

To Spark the Hearts and Minds of The People.

Kill Me If You Wish, I Do Not Care.

I Will Not Work This Way.

I cannot Live without My Love…

My Heart’s Delight Is What I Need.

Without It I cannot Weave.”

Dreamweaver kept on Walking Away.

Appalled and Surprised at What He Heard Her Say…

In Consternation,

Great Spirit Looked Deep Into Dreamweaver’s Heart…

And Saw that She Meant Every Word!!!

Troubling Revelation!!!

He had Pushed Her Much Too Far This Time.

Too Late, He Realised His Big Mistake…

Too Late to Change What Was To Come.

Now Past The Point Of No Return.

For He had Promised Dreamweaver’s Love to Tragic Death …

Long, Long Ago… Before they ever even Met.

What To Do? What To Do?.

He could not Go Back on His Word.

Yet if Dreamweaver Walked Away…

Leaving the Tapestry Of Dreams Undone…

There was No One Else to Do the Work,

That only She could Do.

Soon, It would Begin to Fray…

Soon It would Unravel.

Then, without the Inspiration of Her Dreams…

All the People He Created,

Would Soon Revert…

Becoming Little More Than Beasts…

Savages Beyond Reclaiming!!!

All His Great Work Wasted Now…

Due to His Miscalculation.

Great Spirit did not Count on Dreamweaver to Cease Her Work,

Merely Because He Gave Away...

The Light that Warmed Her Heart to Lingering Death...

On a cold, Bleak and Fateful Winter’s Day...

So Long Ago, When jealous Death pouted and complained,

That She had No One Special with which to Play,

And Then begged for Dreamweaver’s Future Love "Or Else".

What could Great Spirit possibly Say Now to Dreamweaver…

To Make Her Stay and Weave the Tapestry of Dreams??

Then Thinking to Subdue Her,

To Manipulate Her Mind…

To Push Her Back Into His Thrall…

To Bully Her…

To Reach Her with His Mighty Charms...

Ends Justify The Means.

Angry Now, Great Spirit Roared So Loud…

Like Thunder Crashing in Wild Storm Clouds…

To Startle Her and Make Her Stop.

The Sound He Made, It Shook the Earth So Much…

The Winds Grew Still and Held Their Breath.

The Frightened birds Hid in the Trembling trees,

And grassy fields that shuddered without a breeze.

The Timid Creatures Hid Within their Hidey-Holes…

The Brave Ones Hid in caves and dens and lairs…

Some Ran Away as Fast as they could Flee…

Some Hid their eyes, some dug Below.

The fish dared not Swim for Fear that in his Mighty Wrath,

Great Spirit might Notice them and Then...

Dry up their dams and lakes and pools and ponds,

Their rivers, oceans, waterways and seas.

Their mouths gaped open In Shocked Surprise.

Their eyes grew rounder and Dark With Horror…

At Dreamweaver’s Audacity and Impending Demise.

Without a Pause, without a Look Behind Her…

No longer Caring if She Lived or Died…

Dreamweaver kept on Walking Away.

Great Spirit Shouted at Dreamweaver Then,

As She slowly Walked Away from Him…

“You Know Not What You Do Today!!

After All I’ve Done for You?

You Dare Defy Me?

You Dare to Walk Away?

You cannot Leave!! The People Need You!!

I Forbid You!! Come Back Here!!

You cannot Do This!!! Stop I Say!!

How Dare You Walk Away from Me?“

Determined not to be Abused, by mortal or Divinity…

Dreamweaver kept on Walking Away.

Now in a Terrible Rage…

Great Spirit Followed After Dreamweaver….

He Reached to Grab Her by the arm.

Suddenly, with Gritted teeth, and fists Clenched Tight,

Dreamweaver Turned upon Her heel…

Her chin Held High, Her shoulders Straight.

Fearless… Full of Righteous Indignation…

She Gazed Right Up at Him without a Word,

Through eyes Stained Silver from All Her Bitter Tears.

Great Spirit Stopped and Stared at Her... Amazed.

His Heart skipped a beat Then, When He Saw…

All the Rainbows Swimming There…

Within their Liquid Silver Depths…

Like Bright trout Darting To and Fro.

Amidst the Shadows Of What Should Never Be.

Though Her Heart Bled Through Cracks Beyond The Counting…

And Pained Her More than She Could Say…

Still… Defiant, Proud and Strong was She.

Her Look Told Great Spirit that He was Wrong,

To Give Her Love Away To Death…

Without Regard for What She Felt.

And If He Forced Her to Return,

That It would Never Be Okay.

He had Misjudged What He could Do…

Had Pushed Her Further than He should.

And Now, He Realised All Too Late…

That He had Changed Dreamweaver’s Fate…

To Something Less than Meant-To-Be.

He must Undo the Damage if He could…

SomeHow… SomeWay…

Or She would Never Ever Stay…

To Weave the Tapestry Of Dreams.

With Heavy Heart filled with Regret,

Great Spirit Ceased His Ranting Then.

He Looked at Her with eyes gone Soft and Tender…

Unspoken Promises In His Piercing Gaze.

With arms Outstretched, He Reached to Hold Her,

Gently Embraced Her, and In His arms…

She Wept and Wept and Wept and Wept and Wept

like Never-Ending Monsoon Rains.

At First She Wept for Her and Her’s…

For All That Should Have Been and Wouldn’t Be.

Then, For All the People, Young and Old,

Whose Hearts were Shattered By their Losses…

Like trees Destroyed in Sudden Storms.

Whose Loves were Taken and Grown Forever Cold…

For All the Children that Tragically Would Never Be…

For All the Beautiful Hopes And Dreams,

That They Would Never See Come True.

While Dreamweaver Wept and Sobbed in His Embrace,

Great Spirit Murmured in Her ear…

All That He would Do for Her,

And Promises To Make Things Right

As Much As He Was Able…

If She would only Stay and Weave,

Her Tapestry Of Dreams

For All Humanity to See and Share.

At long last, Dreamweaver Stopped Her Weeping.

She Dried Her Silvery Sad, Sad eyes.

Took a Deep, Deep Breath and several Tragic Sighs…

Then Nodded Her Assent to Great Spirit‘s Sincere Plea.

She would Return to Weave the Tapestry Of Dreams.

Two Years and A Day went by…

Dreamweaver Wove the Tapestry Of Dreams as She Agreed…

Played with Her Love Whenever She could.

On Days When She was Too Sad to Weave,

She sat and Watched the Sky…

Knowing that Lovely Butterfly would Return.

And on those Troubling Days Her Love would Say,

The Words She Did Not Want To Hear.

“I Want You to Prepare for Me,

To Leave You Soon My Darling Wifey.

You must Be Brave, You must Be Strong.

I do not Want To Die, I Want To Live with You.

But I must Go, for I’m too Weak…

The Pain Is More than I can Bear.

You must Prepare..

To Live Your Life Alone, My Dear.

Please don’t Be Sad,

Its just The Way Things Are.

But I Promise You Someday, Somehow…

That You will Make Peace with Your Pain.

That Someday… You will Be Happy Again.

This is Something that I Vow.”

Each Time He Said this, She would Cry,

And Nod Her head In Silence.

Each Time He Said this, She would Die Inside…

A Little More Each Time…

And a New Crack would soon Appear,

Deep Within Her Fractured Heart...

Held together by Hope and Need and Fear.

Then Dreamweaver and Her Love would Embrace and Sigh…

They would Kiss and Watch the Sunset “One Last Time”…

Then Hold Each Other Through the Long, Dark Night.

Asleep Together, They Dreamed They "Had More Time"…

To Do All the Things They Wished to Do…

“Happily Ever After“.

On a hot, bright summer morning,

In the Garden Of The Gods…

While grasshoppers play “Hoppity-Clickety“…

Midst fragrant desert flowers, thickly carpeting the sand.

Where flocks of cliff swallows swoop up,

Then dive round the sandstone rocks…

Deep blue streaks swirling, twirling through the air…

Feasting on the insects there.

A game they play for hours and hours…

There, horny toads hurry scurry on tip-toe over the hot, hot sand…

Hunting for ants to snack upon wherever they can.

As choirs of cicadas buzz shrilly ‘bout the heat.

They zing-zing So Loud…

They make the very air Vibrate…

E_C_H_O_I_N_G…

M_O_T_H_E_R…

E_A_R_T_H’S…

G_R_E_A_T…

H__E__A__R__T__B__E__A__T.

Beneath the ancient Cottonwood tree,

Its waxy leaves shim-shimmering,

Dancing in the warm Summer Breeze…

Whispering among themselves…

The Butterfly is Coming!!!

Lemur sat upon a branch, and Hid his face within his hands.

He did not want to See the scene below him.

Dreamweaver sat within the cooling shade

Cast by the giant Tree Of Life.

At Her Magic Loom of Time and Space.

Carved with ancient runes so Long Ago,

Most people don’t even Remember Why.

Archaic symbols start to Glow…

Her Tapestry Complete She Waits.

For Lovely Butterfly’s Return.

Her Love lays Still beside Her, Barely Breathing Now,

He is Too Weak to Say Goodbye.

A Single Tear leaks From one Closed Eye.

They Wait for Death to Come For Him…

They Know it is Time to Say, “Farewell My Love”…

Its Time for him to Finally Die.

Behind Dreamweaver’s back, faithful Lynx stands guard.

Familiar Intuition, Keeper of All Her Many Secrets…

The Ones She Knows and Ones She Doesn’t.

Lynx Sees the Butterfly Approach and Bows.

He isn’t angry anymore.

He Knows the Messenger has Come At Last

To Take Dreamweaver’s Love Away…

Upon Its Lovely wings, and Leave All the Pain Behind.

Dreamweaver feels Her Guardian tense.

She Glances round the blooming desert,

Sees the Lovely Butterfly and Sadly Sighs.

Sick At Heart…

She Knows Why It is Here At Last,

And Fights the Urge To Cry.

Blinking Back Her Unshed Tears…

Heartfelt Pleas for More Time Left Unspoken.

And with the Butterfly’s Approach,

The Lemur Peeked Through his long fingers Then.

Suddenly he starts to Keen a Soulful Lamentation.

Not unlike a Banshee‘s Howl…

The Voice of Bitter Anguish…

Piercing Echo of Dreamweaver’s Grief.

Keening Louder with every Breath he takes…

The Sound Of Dreamweaver’s Heart-Finally-Breaking.

Summoned By the Lemur’s Tragic Cry,

The Winds of Change Began to Blow…

The clouds Grew Dark and Heavy With Dreamweaver’s Unshed Tears.

Dreamweaver Waited, Helpless, Filled With Fear.

Then as Butterfly Landed on Her Love...

Brilliant Lightning Flashed across the Sky…

Thunder Ripped the Heavens Open Wide.

The Storm clouds Wept for What Must Be.

And in that Instant Flash and Crash of the Sudden Summer Storm…

Butterfly Took Dreamweaver’s Love,

And Finally Set His Tortured Spirit Free… At Last…

From All the Pain His Body Suffered,

From All the Anguish His Mind had Known.

Then Dreamweaver Wept For Him Again…

Alone.

At the End of that Terrible, Awful Day,

When “Happily Ever After” Died,

Dreamweaver climbed Up onto a cliff.

She Watched the Sunset All Alone.

The Evening Breeze Caressed Her cheek,

Tugged at Her hair with a Mournful Sigh

As If to Say “I Miss him too.”…

While Storm clouds Built Up High In the Sky,

All the Way Up to the Distant Heavens.

Flashing Lightning Lit the clouds for Hours and Hours After That.

In the Distance, Thunder Rumbled Its Discontent.

While Mad with Grief…

Dreamweaver Watched the Sky and Wept, and Screamed…

Then Cursed the Day that She had ever Met Her Lost Love,

While the Storm Winds Howled, and Shrieked Her Pain.

The Storm clouds Wept With Her Again and Again and Again.

On the Far Horizon…

Where the Storm Clouds were the Thickest,

Where the Lightning Flashed the Brightest,

And the Thunder Roared the Loudest…

A Promise Kept.

Though She didn’t Know it Then.

Blind With Grief… She could not See…

Through Her Heavy Veil of Tears and "Pity Me".

Late That Night, Dreamweaver Slept Within Her Empty, Empty Bed.

With an Empty, Empty Head,

And Where Her Heart Should Be…

A Black Hole Formed so Large and Vast…

Stars could be Seen Within.

Exhausted and Alone She Dreamed…

Of a Righteous Storm of Indignation,

Shattering the Sky with Angry Lightning.

Cracking Heaven’s Glass Ceiling Open…

Raining Brilliant Shards of Her Counted Tears Beyond Believing.

Collecting Into Pools Where Wisdom Grew and Bloomed…

Floating like waterlilies on the Surface.

Then Streaming, Flowing Into the Azure Sea…

~ The See Of Dreams ~

Down, Down, Down Into the Cooling Depths Below She Dived…

Amidst clumps of Glowing jellyfish Floating on the Tides Of Change…

Strangely-Coloured seahorses Prancing even as they swam on by.

Glancing at Dreamweaver Drifting Dreaming…

Like a piece of giant kelp, Through that Underwater Twilight Realm.

Tendrils of Her long black hair…

Twisting, curling around her head,

Like sea-snakes Swimming in the Currents of Now and Then.

She doesn’t Need to Breathe Down Here,

Can’t Recall the Feel of air Within Her lungs.

Still in Shock and Grieving, She doesn’t Really Care.

Her Silvered eyes See Everything there is to See Down There…

But She can scarce Believe What She is Seeing…

The Hungry, Hungry sharks that are ever on the Prowl,

For giant green sea-turtles as big as buffalo cows,

Perhaps to dine on tasty seals and the unwary swimmer...

And pods of light grey dolphins,

Jetting past Her like Greased Lightning…

Stop to Tease and Whistle…

At the Many-Coloured Mermaids Swimming in the Deep Blue See.

Their Siren Song and Laughter Healing.

While whales the size of mountains, Floating Upside-Down…

Sing-Song their Plaintive Melodies…

About the Tragic Man-Mistreated History Of Their Kind.

Where schools of so many Kinds of fish...

Twist and Turn as If One Mind.

And Brightly Coloured corals…

Growing on the ocean’s bed…

Look like brains from someone’s head,

Or lacy fans or long, long fingers Reaching For...

Something they Do Not Have.

As She Drifted on the Mourning Tide,

Dreamweaver Noticed Something Odd.

In the Shallows of the See Of Dreams...

There on the white, sandy bottom…

Something Golden Glinted, Where no Light should Be.

Curious, She Swam Closer to get a Better View.

Swimming Down to Where That Something lay...

Half-Buried In the sand.

As She Swam, Dreamweaver Heard...

A Mermaid Singing Somewhere Near.

But When She Looked around Her, couldn‘t See One Anywhere.

She Reached for the Shiny Something...

Tightly Clasped It in Her hand.

Then Pushed Off from the ocean’s Bottom…

Rising, Rising, Up and Up to Finally Breathe the Sweet salt air.

Surfacing At Last, Dreamweaver coughed See water from Her lungs,

Then took a Ragged Gasp and Began to Breathe Again…

Like She Never Had Before.

She Floated on the Surface of the Multi-Coloured See Of Dreams.

Idly Looking ‘round Her as she Floated There,

She Saw a nearby beach of white, white crystal sand...

Glistening in the sunlight...

Glowing in the Distance like a wet, white ribbon...

Just out of Reach, gently Floating on the See Of Dreams.

On the Beach, a Man lay Sleeping on the white, white sand...

Clutching Something Special in His hand.

Perhaps a Shipwrecked Sailor There,

Perhaps a Pirate Marooned by Cruel Fate...

She could not tell and Puzzled More.

Too Far to See the clothes He wore.

She could not See His face,

His head was Covered by a hat,

To shade Him from the hot, hot sun.

But as He Dreamed, His Tight Grasp Relaxed…

And that was When Dreamweaver Saw,

What the Sleeping Stranger Held in His Safe Keeping…

A Golden scale from a Mermaid’s tail…

Just like the Shiny Something Dreamweaver had...

Found upon the ocean’s Bottom,

And Now Tightly Held, Within Her Trembling hand.

When Dreamweaver Finally Woke Up,

From Her Strange Dream Of The Stranger,

In Her hand She Tightly Clasped…

A Golden scale from a Mermaid’s tail.

A Promise in the Keeping.

Synchronicity, Alive and Well.

Deep Within the Black Hole, Where Her Heart Once Was...

A Brilliant Shooting Star Streaked Across The Great Devoid.

Banishing the Darkness, Filling it with Light Once More...

With a Bright Promise of Yet To Be.

Dreamweaver's New Heart Began To Beat.

In the Garden Of The Gods…

While grasshoppers play “Hoppity-Clickety“…

Midst fragrant desert flowers, thickly carpeting the sand.

Where flocks of cliff swallows swoop up,

Then dive round the sandstone rocks…

Deep blue streaks swirling, twirling through the air…

Feasting on the insects there.

A game they play for hours and hours…

There, horny toads hurry scurry on tip-toe over the hot, hot sand…

Hunting for ants to snack upon wherever they can.

As choirs of cicadas buzz shrilly ‘bout the heat.

They zing-zing So Loud…

They make the very air Vibrate…

E_C_H_O_I_N_G…

M_O_T_H_E_R…

E_A_R_T_H’S…

G_R_E_A_T…

H__E__A__R__T__B__E__A__T.

Beneath the ancient Cottonwood tree,

Its waxy leaves shim-shimmering,

As they dance together in the warm Summer Breeze…

The rustling leaves Whisper to the Wind,

Talking ‘bout Dreamweaver’s Strange Stranger Dreams.

Curious lemur sits upon a branch,

Surveys the scene below him,

With Wonder in his big round eyes…

Enchanted By What he Sees.

Dreamweaver sits within the cooling shade

Cast by the giant Tree Of Life.

Working at Her Magic Loom of Time and Space.

Carved with ancient runes So Long Ago,

Most people don’t even Remember Why.

Archaic symbols start to Glow…

As She Works upon Her Newest Tapestry Of Dreams.

Intent upon Her Latest Work,

She does not care who Watches as She Weaves,

As long as they don’t disturb her or interfere, and pay attention to…

What Is Important and What Is Not..

Her hands are deft, Her fingers nimble,

Move quick as spiders on a web.

. With Greatest Care, She Knots and Twists, and Binds Together…

Creates a Pattern only She can Make,

For All The World To See.

All the Many-Coloured “Threads Of” that She has to Use…

What Was, What Is, and What Will Be…

What If, How Can and Possibly…

Hopes and Fears and Stuff and Nonsense…

Love and Hate and Joy and Sorrow...

The Full Spectrum of Emotions for All Occasions...

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow...

Wishful Thinking…

Never In A Million Years…

All Kept In basketful and pots beside Her.

As She Works, ever so softly, She Starts to Sing…

A Haunting Melody Enchanting…

The Song She Heard the Mermaids Sing Within Her Dream.

Of Wishful Thinking and Days we Rue…

Of How Grief Marks us, When we Love and Lose...

Of How Love Finds us When we Least Expect It…

And How Sometimes…

The Longest Journey Begins, Before You Even Go...

Of Trials in Travels and Tribulations...

Of Long, Dark Nights When Nothing Shines…

Except what’s In the Heart and Soul...

Of Snakes In The Grass…

How Long they Take To Shed Their Skin...

Of Everything Ventured and Nothing Gained...

Of Broken Vows To Never, Never Love Again…

Of What Happens When we Wonder as we Wander…

How On Momentous Days, Timing Is Everything...

Why we should Choose, Choose, Choose Now,

Instead Of Never, Never…

Of a Viking Warrior Waiting, Waiting In a Far, Far Distant Land…

Across the Shining See Of Dreams…

For a Woman He Has Never Seen…

As Real As the Unreal Can Ever Be…

To take Her by the hand...

Of How Star-Crossed Lovers With Curses Binding...

Can Break Their Chains With Faith and Love...

Of Hearts Mended and Hope Renewed…

Of Promises Kept and Dreams Come True...

Of "Happily Ever After"...

No Matter What...

Come Hell Or High Water...

Come What May.

As Dreamweaver Sings…

The Pattern on the Magic Loom takes Shape and Grows…

It seems to Hide the Truth Behind ~ Beneath.

Yet Through It, I can still See…

Somewhere In the Universe…

Where Galaxies Spin across the Great Devoid…

An Angel stands next to a Quiet Pool, with widespread wings...

Ready To Fly Free.

He Gazes at His Reflection Of…

Another Time, Another Place, When mortal man was He.

Behind Dreamweaver’s back, Faithful Lynx Stands Guard.

Loyal Intuition, Keeper of Her Secrets.
The Ones She Knows and Ones She Doesn’t.

Lynx Sees Great Spirit Watching Dreamweaver.

He keeps His Distance Now as She Weaves and Sings…

He does not disturb Her as She Works.

It is Better This Way.

Lynx Purrs Contentedly.

Then licks one paw As If To Say…

“I Knew Things Would Work Out

SomeDay… SomeHow… SomeWay.”

Becky Jo Hull aka. Minsky

This Poem is in Loving Memory of my 2nd husband,

Steven Craig Minsky…

An “Angel Who Didn‘t Want To Be".

Born 21 November 1955...

Pronounced Terminally Ill July 1985 at age 29,

Three months after we were married.

He SUFFERED HORRIBLY for the following fourteen years…

During that Terrible Tragic Time, I Taught Steve All I Knew about Living...

He Taught me All he Knew about Dying.

Steve DIED A VERY BAD DEATH - 21 July 1999 - at the age of 43.

“Prisoner of War” in the “War Against AIDS“…

Unwilling Sacrifice to Apathy, Corruption, Greed and Ignorance.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY STEVE…

WHEREVER YOUR SPIRIT MAY BE...

NO MORE PAIN… REST IN PEACE… THEN FLY FREE.

I REMEMBER YOU AS YOU SAID I WOULD... DO YOU REMEMBER ME?"

"At The Threshold Of Tomorrow"

2010-09-28T19:07:00.000-07:00

"At The Threshold Of Tomorrow"

by Becky Jo Minsky (aka. Hull)

Through the Desert of Despair,

I have often WONDERED as I WANDERED . . .

About the Beauty and the Ugliness I SEE everywhere I go.

About all the Joys and Sorrows I've experienced in My Travels.

I THINK and then I SIGH.

About how most people rarely KNOW . . .

Just how much that what we DO and THINK

AFFECTS the World At Large.

How often we can CHANGE things for the BETTER

If we will only TRY.

Yes, some CHANGES are only temporary,

Ephemeral at best . . .

Like a pebble tossed into a pool, depending on the size . . .

Making RIPPLES on the surface ever larger

Till they reach the other side,

Maybe bouncing back a few more times until ALL is as it was Before.

Like a SHOUT into a canyon,

The VIBRANT ECHOES keep on going for awhile . .

But then eventually they all FADE.

Like welcome clouds that block the blazing sun,

Sooner or later they all drift away.

Like Our Footprints on the Sands Of Time,

The Winds Of Change will gradually ERASE

All TRACES of our PASSING BY.

So what's the point you say?

A hundred years from NOW will it MATTER anyway?

SOMETIMES . . .

THE CHANGES THAT WE MAKE CAN CHANGE OUR LIVES FOREVER.

Along with Those we HOLD Most Dear,

Even Strangers we've never met and may never ever KNOW.

But whether its for GOOD or Ill,

DEPENDS entirely on you . . .

Just HOW MUCH is based upon what we CHOOSE to DO,

WHY we CHOOSE to DO "IT" and HOW we see it through.

So CHOOSE, CHOOSE, CHOOSE NOW

For the BETTER,

NOT the Worse.

Before you pass beyond the Threshold of Tomorrow

Take the time to DO things RIGHT.

CHERISH what is GOOD in Life and TRY TO KEEP THE PEACE.

DONT MAKE TROUBLE,

DONT TELL VICIOUS LIES

DONT CAUSE STRIFE.

PROTECT the INNOCENTS who TRUST IN YOU TO TRANSFORM

A Wasteland of Broken Promises and Shattered Dreams

INTO A GARDEN OF EARTHLY DELIGHTS.

HAVE FAITH in Those you LOVE SO WELL.

CREATE BEAUTY WHENEVER YOU CAN.

Leave a LEGACY of "Flowers In Your Footprints" . . .

PRECIOUS SEEDS of What Will Be

Not RUBBISH MADE from Hatred, Apathy and Selfish Greed.

Don't make the Ones Who FOLLOW you

In Generations To Come After

CLEAN UP Your Dirty Mess.

Wouldn't it be BETTER if instead of Your Name they all CURSE,

INSTEAD . . .

Your Memory They ALL BLESS?

Thats how I want Them to REMEMBER ME.

That even as I TRAVELLED on My Path,

No matter where I went . . .

No matter how HARD the JOURNEY got, . . .

I still took the Time and with GREAT CARE,

I SOWED MY PRECIOUS FLOWERS OF HOPE

For ALL the Ones Who Follow After Me to SEE . . .

MY SPECIAL LEGACY FOR ALL HUMANITY.

Becky Jo Minsky (aka. Hull)

29 September 2010

"Hope"

2010-09-20T23:26:00.000-07:00

“Hope” by Becky Jo Minsky (aka. Hull)
copyright 1987

Amidst the Winter Of Our Discontent,

A young girl wanders through the snow.
Lightly clad in thin garment, her arms and feet are bare.
Yet she does not feel the icy wind, she does not fear the cold.
She does not worry how she’ll fare, by the time that she grows old.
Her heart is PURE, her mind SERENE,
Her eyes SEE the BEAUTY in everything.
Her laughter ECHOES in the air . . .
Precocious girl . . . Hope is such a playful child.

“Do not worry” Time tells her, “it will not always be so Cold.”
Someday the Spring will come again, so ENJOY the World as it is Today.
Build a snowman and if you wish . . .
Make snow-ice cream for a special dish.
Let’s have a Party, and invite your friends . . .
PLAY Winter Games that you cannot play,

When Spring comes to us again.

What a wonderful suggestion!!
Hope stands still, her PATIENCE REWARDED. . .
DELIGHTED when each perfect snowflake in the icy wind,

Begins to dance around her.
They dust her gown in snow-swept swirls,

Encrusting it with icy pearls,
And sprinkle MAGIC in her hair to make her Winter Party gown.
Then Winter’s sun peeks down to the frozen Earth,
Through rare gaps in the banks of thick snow clouds,
As if to say “Let’s get this Party STARTED . . .
Gilding each bare branch with its pale light . . .
Hope gasps in SURPRISE,
Then blinks back Tears of Joy at the BRILLIANT SIGHT.
Bleak landscape now TRANSFORMED into
ENCHANTED FOREST SHINING BRIGHT.
Perfect playground for the Frost Giant’s Daughter
Who else is coming to the Party?

Now bedecked in her finest Winter gown,
Crowned with Anticipation,
Hope waits for her Winter Party guests to arrive.
Icy branches glisten in the sun, bare twigs sparkle in the light.
She marvels at the shrubs and trees,

With all their branches bare of leaves.
Intricate sculptures one and all . . . now frozen fans of icy lace . . .

Decorations for the Party.
Admiring the natural symmetry and grace,

Of the dormant trees and shrubs that “sleep”.
With a knowing smile upon her face,
Hope peeks into their “Dreams Of . . .”

When with garments of verdant green they’ll wear
Fragrant blossoms here and there.
Green growing things perfume the air.
With butterflies dancing round about, like flying iridescent jewels.

And from the rainbow-coloured blooms sip on the sweetest nectar.
So many bumbly bees hum so loud, the air is laden with the sound.

As they zoom-zoom from flower to flower,

Gathering golden pollen for Hive and Queen.

While brilliant-plumed birds flit through the leaf-clad trees,
Sing lilting songs to attract their mates . . .
About A New Generation
Whose Time Has Come.
Small furry creatures frolic about ‘neath the canopy of

Springs’ Newest Gown . . .
In CELEBRATION . . .
For the Flower Queen has come at last.
Finally. . . the Long, Dark, Cold Winter is NOW PAST.

Hope does not heed the Winter wind.
She does not hear its mournful sighs.
She does not feel its icy bite.
She does not shiver in the Cold.
She does not dwell upon the Past.
She does not Regret what has Come and Gone.
She does not Fear that she’ll grow old.

Because her heart is full of LIGHT so BRIGHT,
Like a lantern it SHINES for ALL to BEHOLD.
With a LIGHT that WARMS her through and through.
No matter how Dark, no matter how Cold.
Formed by FAITH, and FORGED with PASSION.
A LIGHT that can’t be bought with gold.
Only SHARED from one heart to another . . .
IT MUST BE FREELY GIVEN.
SACRED FLAME, DIVINE SPARK, A LOVE SO STRONG. . .
It even MENDS the Broken Heart, that’s shattered beyond repair.

Hope does not feel the icy wind, she does not fear the Cold.
Because she KNOWS eventually, that Spring will come again someday.

Even when she grows old and grey.
She KNOWS each day is a Special Gift,
To be “unwrapped” with CARE and PLAYED WITH.
She KNOWS no matter How Bad Things May Get
Someday . . . Somehow . . . Spring WILL come again.
Because Mother told her so.

Becky Jo Minsky (aka. Hull)
copyright September 21, 2010

Years ago, when I was living in Colorado with my late husband Steve - my 2nd husband who was handicapped and terminally ill - I remember a year when every time I would call my mother up to “visit“ with her, she would be having a particularly hard time of it. Every time it was something different and bizarre... and always, always Trouble.

Me: "How are you Mom?"
Mom: "Not good. The hot water heater leaked and flooded the whole trailer. Took me days to clean up the mess and I had to throw a few things out."

Me: "How are you Mom?"
Mom: "Not good. I was driving to work (to Shawnee(?)) and a deer jumped out of nowhere and I couldn't avoid hitting it (killed the deer) and it did a lot of damage to my car. It was lucky I wasn't killed."

Me: "How are you Mom?"
Mom: "Not good. I slipped on the back steps on the ice and fell and broke my arm and lay there for about an hour or two in the freezing cold before your Uncle Gary came and found me and took me to the hospital."

GEEEZ... I thought about the fact that Mom was having such a very hard year then and what I could possibly DO to HELP MAKE IT BETTER for her. Then I thought about how she always gave me HOPE when things were HARD for me and how she ENCOURAGED and believed in me when no one else did. That was when I decided to make a special painting just for her about Hope (she has the original painting). So actually, the image of Hope that I have portrayed is based on her. As I was growing up, my mother used to tell me that when she was a young girl, her hair was so blond, it was almost white. They used to call her a "cotton-top". She was born on December 9th, 1935 in the midst of the Great Depression. So I made Hope a "cotton-top" and the time is Winter... when everything is dormant. You can see a large shrub in the background... it has lost all of it leaves. Yet...there is that Rose (Mom... ROSEmary) blooming in the midst of Winter next to Hope... which of course is impossible.. yet with HOPE... nothing is impossible. With HOPE, we can endure the COLD and not be hurt by it (notice that Hope is wearing a thin summer gown, her arms are bare and she does not feel the COLD). With HOPE even a heart that is shattered beyond repair, can be MENDED (Hope holds the heart that she has MENDED and offers it back with a knowing smile.) It was my way of REMINDING Mother WHO SHE WAS... of one of her special "GIFTS" that she has brought with her into this World to SHARE with others to HELP MAKE it a BETTER WORLD FOR ALLl.

Becky Jo Minsky (aka. Hull)
21 September, 2010

" I ~ Eye Of The Storm "

2010-09-16T20:46:00.000-07:00

“ I ~ Eye Of The Storm ” by Becky Jo Minsky (aka. Hull)

(copyright 1987)

She is the little voice that whispers in my ear . . .“What if. . .

. . . you turn right instead of go straight ? ”
. . . stop here and take the time to SEE what makes this place so SPECIAL, what makes this person UNIQUE? ”
. . . try it this way instead of that ? ”
. . . LOOK up here, LOOK down there ? ”
. . . WHAT IF YOU MAKE THIS HAPPEN ? “

She counsels me . . .
"STOP, LOOK, LISTEN and THINK.
RECONSIDER when you need to . . .
Make PEACE with your Pain . . .
BE BRAVE when you must, in spite of your Fears . . .
“DON’T PANIC . . . FEAR NO EVIL . . . HAVE FAITH . . .
BE YOURSELF . . .
PERSEVERE in spite of all Obstacles . . .
RECOGNISE Synchronicity for What It Is.
Don't fight it, let it FLOW through you.
DARE TO DREAM , DARE TO REACH FOR IT, DARE TO LIVE THE DREAM.

She counsels me when to CHOOSE, CHOOSE, CHOOSE NOW.
SHE REMINDS ME WHO I AM AND AM NOT.
She encourages me to be TRUE to Myself come what may.
She doesn’t usually shout, because she shouldn’t have to.

Over time I have LEARNED that she often tells me
what I need to KNOW, not necessarily what I want to HEAR.
To HEED what she SPEAKS, however softly,
to LISTEN for Her Voice.
Yet when the Need arises, She SPEAKS loud and clear and says . . .

“ I exist at the very CORE of Your Being . . .
I am the Hidden Order in the heart of Chaos . . .
I am the “ I /Eye of the Storm . . .
I am the Spirit of NOW.

I SEE EVERYTHING, ALL POSSIBILITIES . . .
WHAT IS AND IS NOT . . .
WHAT CAN AND CANNOT BE . . .
WHAT WILL AND WILL NOT BE . . .
WHAT SHOULD ALWAYS BE . . .
WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE.

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW ? ”

Becky Jo Minsky ( aka Hull )
September 17, 2010

.

"Refuse To Despair"

2010-09-14T12:44:00.000-07:00

“Refuse To Despair”
by Becky Jo Minsky (aka. Hull)
(copyright 2007)

Where does Inspiration come from?

Someone once wrote… “we receive confirmation from the world around us”. We can find Inspiration wherever we go, whenever we need guidance. However, finding Inspiration is not nearly as important as listening to the message that Inspiration brings to our awareness and the effect it has upon us and the world we live in.

Someone once wrote… “ We must cultivate Hope like precious flowers”. I don’t know who wrote that inspirational sentence, but I am grateful to that person for reminding me of what is important.

Inspiration cultivates Hope. Why bother? Because Hope blooms between the darkness of the long "Dark Night of the Soul" and the "Dawn of a Momentous Day". Hope gives us strength when we need it most to endure and persevere in our endeavours, feeling our way as we go through the long Dark Night of the Soul when it is so hard to find the strength to go on and too easy to believe that we will never see another sunrise. Hope enables us to find the courage to dare to reach out to touch the Dream of a Better Way of Living… even when we know that what we hope for is probably an “Impossible Dream.” Impossible just means it hasn’t been done yet.

The mind can know Fear… Fear of Failure… Fear of Loss… Fear of Betrayal… Fear of Lack… Fear of Pain… Fear of Change. Fear comes to us in many guises. Sometimes it clings to us like a sly parasite, like a living necklace coiled around our necks, slowly strangling us even as it feeds on our life force… weakening our resolve until we no longer have the strength to defy an unkind or unjust fate. Sometimes it ambushes us and overwhelms us like a giant sinister spider… paralysing us with its toxins - until we are unable to move or think quickly enough to save ourselves at a crucial time when what we say, do or think can effectively change the events of our lives and those around us for the better. Sometimes it slowly creeps up on us like a noxious fog, choking us and clouding our judgement until it is difficult to see where we are going… making us vulnerable to hidden pitfalls and stumbling blocks in our Path that we would normally be able to safely avoid in a clear state of mind. Sometimes it suddenly screams in our ears, throwing us into a sheer panic and when we try to escape, blindly fleeing into the darkness, it stalks us with amusement as we stumble around sobbing and shrieking like frightened children fleeing from the bogeyman of nightmares. We cannot Live through Fear, but Fear can Live though us. When we allow Fear to Live through us, that is when we are in Despair. Hope Banishes Fear and empowers us to reach beyond the Dream of What Can Be, to touch What Will Be.

The mind can know Fear, but the heart is Fearless when it is full of Hope. Listen to your heart and Refuse to Despair.

Becky Jo Minsky (aka. Hull)

January 2007

This painting is a visionary surrealistic piece I created in oil on canvas (with a touch of glitter)showing a woman in darkness. She has been dwelling in the dark for so long, her eyes glow and a phosphorescent aura shimmers around her, for she radiates her own inner light now. In her hair she wears a shining heart-shaped ornament next to her right ear. The heart of course, symbolizes love and passion. On her left cheek is a glowing mark of a spiral. The spiral is a symbol of CHANGE and can represent involution (inner change/growth) as well as evolution (outer change/growth). You can see that Grief has marked her for within her own darkness there is a void so immense you can see stars in it. The stars also represent her connection to the Universe of course. The Dark Woman stares wide-eyed and intently at the viewer, even as she reaches for a new Reality, through bubbles/dreams/portals of "What May Be", to point to and touch "What Is and What Will Be". Phosphorescent lightning (the power of Transformation) shoots out of the fingers of her outstretched right hand illuminating the darkness that surrounds her - showing undercurrents of energy/life force (potential) swirling around her throughout the surrounding darkness. Within the bubbles/dreams/portals that the Dark Woman reaches through, there is a composite view of another world in which another woman can be seen. The second woman is in the midst of a clearing in the bush. Strange-looking flowers grow there, ready to be harvested. Through the trees behind the second woman the viewer can see the sun is rising over the mountains in the background and the second woman is backlit in the early morning light with a serene look upon her face. Everything is bathed in light and all is as it "should be" in this Ideal World. At the edge of the bubbles/dreams/portals are brilliantly coloured flowers in bloom. They are growing at the edge of "What Is and Is Not"... between the "Long Dark Night of the Soul" and the "Dawn of a Momentous Day". There is a saying "We must cultivate Hope like precious flowers". These flowers are Hope in full bloom.

As an “emerging/submerged” female artist born in 1956 into a time and place when and where female artists were rarely given the respect, emotional support, formal training, practical financial backing, work opportunities and social recognition they needed to establish themselves as professional community artists, I have had to fight for my inherent right to create practically my whole life against a tremendous amount of social prejudice, ignorance, misguidance, sometimes just plain EVIL and personal misfortunes. Even though I started drawing realistic portraits around the age of 4 or 5, I am mostly self-taught because my family did not understand my need for formal artistic training. Due to personal circumstances, over the years, in order to be true to myself, I have had to define myself as an artist on my own terms. I have received very little assistance from any individual, art group, arts organisation, or government agency. It is not in my nature to ask for help. But on the rare occasions when I have done so, as a general rule, those who could have helped me chose not to, and those who wanted to help me, could not. Desire is its own discipline. All that I have achieved thus far is in spite of every obstacle I have encountered along the Artists' Way and believe me when I say that the opposition I have faced (and still do) has been very consistent and nearly overwhelming at times.

Over the years, I have met many people who have told me what is "impossible" and what I should and should not do, what I can and cannot do while being completely oblivious to what I am truly capable of doing as an artist, as a woman and as a human being. Eventually I realised that quite often, when someone told me "that is impossible"... what they were really saying is "that is impossible for me to do and therefore you shouldn't try to do what I cannot". This kind of negative feedback is not only painful to the sensitive soul, it is also very toxic and destructive in terms of undermining and/or blocking spontaneous creative inspirations, destabilizing creative potential in general and disrupting the creative process to such an extent that indeed reinforces the impossibility of bringing about any sort of positive CHANGE into the World. It has been my personal experience that long-term exposure to intense negative feedback can eventually result in a state of creative frustration that is so extreme, it can lead the individual creative soul into a state of Despair. Once we give in to despair, all hope is lost and all possibilities to CHANGE the World for the Better disappear. Then our lives are not our own, and we no longer have control over our own personal fate and the fate of the World. Then we are merely little more than "Living Dead" dwelling in darkness while waiting to die and/or to be sacrificed as unwilling victims to the Evils of this World which feed upon the Innocent, the Ignorant and the Unfortunate.

As a Visionary Surrealist artist, I work with symbols and archetypal imagery in a wide range of mediums. I create transcendental artwork that expresses spiritual truths and metaphysical concepts. I am here to say that the mind can know Fear, but the heart is fearless, and "impossible" just means it hasn't been done yet. No matter how bad things get, no matter what happens... if we truly want to CHANGE the World for the BETTER, we must LISTEN to our heart and REFUSE TO DESPAIR. For it is only when we GIVE UP that we are truly BEATEN.

Becky Jo Minsky (aka. Hull)
September 15, 2010

Joy And Sorrow

2009-09-23T16:55:00.000-07:00

“Joy and Sorrow” by Becky Jo Minsky (a.k.a. Hull)
(copyright 2008)

Joy is a bright yellow lovebird , so small it can nestle in the palm of your hand. It’s name is ‘Precious’. Pure of heart, full of Life and Love... it flies after Sorrow whenever it can and sings an enchanting song about the Beauty of the Moment. All too soon, it disappears in a burst of brilliance like a phoenix into the sun.

Sorrow lingers and sighs “Woe is me.” She laments “If only...” and weeps inconsolably. Blinded by Grief, she stumbles along in her own private Darkness and wishes for her heart to turn to stone or freeze solid so she can no longer feel the Loss of Joy.

Grief marks us. The scars of Loving and Losing - all the scars that can be seen and the ones we carry within our heart, mind and spirit - those are merely proof that we have LIVED. Because the Pain of Loving and then Losing can be so overwhelming, it is natural to fear Losing again and thus to try to avoid Loving again and so tempting to try to numb ourselves to the point that we feel nothing at all. It is that kind of thinking that helps create a Winter of Discontent and makes the world a colder, more inhospitable place for all living creatures. If we do not feel Sorrow, we also cannot feel Joy. Do not turn away from Love because of Fear of Loss if and when Love is offered to you. Love is a special and Sacred Gift. Love is healing - for those who give it and those who receive it. Love gives us the power to do almost anything except raise the dead, and even then... Love tries.

Life is Change... yet no day is over if it makes a memory.

The memory of a past Joy is like a glimpse of sunlight on a cold, snowy winter day. As pale as the winter sun is, it is still bright enough to bring tears to our eyes and show us the Beauty that surrounds us. Even though it may be so cold, we cannot feel the warmth of the winter sunlight on our skin, it is still warm enough to melt a heart frozen by Grief.

So be gentle with yourself and learn to make Peace with your Pain. Take comfort in the possibility that Joy may find you again. But know this... Joy likes to play “Hide and Seek”. It rarely takes the same form twice. How else can it surprise us when we least expect it?

Becky Jo Minsky
October 26, 2008

"fear NOT"

2009-09-23T16:00:00.000-07:00

“ fear NOT . . . ” - by Becky Hull (a.k.a. Minsky)
(copyright June 2009)

WE cannot live through Fear,
BUT Fear can live through us.
IF we allow it .

POSSESSED by Fear, our lives are not our own .
WE cease to be our own selves .
INSTEAD, Living Dead puppets,
BOUND with filaments spun by Dread.
PULL our strings attached,
WE dance in Mindless Panic on command .

MERE tools to be used and abused and manipulated .
HELPING Fear grow stronger .
SERVING Its purpose perverted far beyond reason .
TRAVESTY of what once was survival instinct designed by Nature .
ALLOWING ancestors to survive,
PREVENTING extinction as a species.
NOW our Fear betrays us . . . mutated . . . contaminated . . .
“ WILD Animal ” part of us that would eat the rest of us alive .

SURVIVAL Instinct that’s gone feral,
FOAMING at the mouth with perpetual perceptual rabies .
PSYCHOTIC, amoral, Most Cunning Dark Creature of the Psyche,
SHADOW of Humanity . . .
SERVANT of the Anti - Mind .

I know You for Who and What You Really Are .
THE Signs are all there .
LET those who have eyes
UNDERSTAND what they see .

REPULSED by Love . . . The “ Water Of Life ” .
HEEDLESS of Beauty . . . nothing Sacred .
NOTHING safe. . . . after Innocence lost,
DESTROYING everything You touch .
YOU feast upon the Divine Spark within our very Souls .

BANE of Our Existence, I know You .
IF we allow You to roam free much longer,
YOU will be the Cause of our Extinction .

FENRIR, Primal Fear Incarnate .
TERRIBLE Wolf of Ancient Legend .
PROPHESIED to devour the Earth at the End of Days .
YOU are known by many names by many peoples .
YOU have many, many faces . . . all different, all the same .

I see You .

WHO let You loose on this unsuspecting world
TO stalk humanity far and wide ,
HERDING us like frightened cattle in a storm ?
NIPPING at our heels and the back of our minds ,
LIKE the rabid wolf that You are ?
STEALTHILY stalking us over Time .
DIVIDING the People into groups of “ Us and Them ".
THE same and different . . . but not really .

RAVENOUS Hunger, never satisfied .
CONSTANTLY searching the human herds for signs of Weakness . . .
THE “ Perfect Victim ” .
YOUR blood - chilling howls of triumph echoing louder in our minds .
PARANOIA creeping ever closer, closer, closer . . .
THROUGH coldest darkest moonless starless nights .

TREMBLING at Your approach,
HEADS bowed in resignation to an unkind and unjust Fate .
TOO many give in to Fear without a fight .

I defy You . Get out of my mind ! ! !

ARROGANT Leaders shamelessly use You
ALONG with our foolish tendencies to fear
WHAT we don’t understand and
HATE what we fear.
EASY to control then aren't we?
YOU isolate us in preparation
TO be held and used for their Cruel Amusement . . .
THE next Great Hunt and Harvest of Souls .

UNWILLING Sacrifices of Corruption and Greed,
FED to Fear, tormented by Need .
I have wept and tasted your salty, bitter tears .

TORTURED Souls beyond the counting,
I ’ VE heard your anguished cries for help .
SILENT weeping, pitiful huddles,
WAILING loudly Goodness knows .
WHILE wild howls and desperate shrieks
RING through the Lonely Night,
AND in my ears still ringing .

MY heart has bled like you and yours .
FEAR grabbed me too with icy touch .
AROUND my throat it coiled slowly squeezing .
I could not breathe, I could not scream ,
THEN It squeezed me tighter still and something deep within me
BROKE.
AN Egg of Preconceived Notions shattered,
RELEASING Hope to banish all Despair .

NO longer pliant puppet toy, no longer Sacrificial Lamb .
EMPOWERED by the Light of Truth .
NOW Something Different, Something More .
REPELLED
FEAR recoiled, confused,
WITHDREW
TO find an easier prey to stew .

I did not let the Fear consume me .
ALAS before Hope was released tho,
CONFUSED, I let It take My Youth . . .
SMALL price to pay for Freedom for All
FROM Tyranny and Oppression .

POOR Victims of What Should Never Be . . .
I will Avenge you if I can .
GOD willing, if it is up to me . . .
I will cage the Awful Beast - In - Man .

DEEP within the jungles hidden deserted Mayan temples stand.
TOPPED with Sacrificial Altars,
GATES to Heaven closed forever.
TESTAMENT to the Folly of Man .

MIDST stone ruins crumbling ,
BUILT by people Hate infected.
LONG ago . . . now turned to dust .
CENTURIES later, I still see traces of. . .
FEAR’S blood - stained tracks
AT the Altar stones of Cruelty and Lust .

UNHOLY Fear, Abomination,
MOST people think the warrior priests of Maya
SACRIFICED their victims to blood - thirsty gods,
SOMETIMES to beasts .
NOT true says I .

TWAS You received the warm, still - beating hearts of
“ HONOURED ” Victims .
TRIBUTE and Reward for Your Obedience .
THINKING to tame and use You Fear,
THEY did not know You as I do .
YOU can not be tamed, for You are Evil through and through .
TOO late they learned to their Undoing,
YOU belong back in Your cage .

UNCHAINED Terror of the Mind,
ROGUE Defender of the Faith .
CREEPING close to Bethlehem ,
CAMOUFLAGED by Greed and Need.
SLINKING round in shadowed alleys,
CALLING the Faithful of Mecca to their knees .
HIDING within the cooling mosques,
WHEN sun goes down You roam the streets.
WHISPERING lies and half-Truths to those who’ll listen . . .
THOSE Poor Souls raised on meagre diets of
“ NOT Enough ” for far too long .

MARKED by Grief and brutal treatment,
WITH wounds unhealing, living in a World Gone Wrong .
FAMILIES shattered by wars unending .
NOW their Rage and Hurt
FERMENTING bubbles of Righteous Indignation .
FIRE FLOWERS in the Making,
SPOILED Fruit of Tragic Circumstances .
OF course they listened, who would not ?

EASY to convince them,
BLAME the Others for the Pains You’ve caused .
TERRORISTS completely Terrorised . . .
VENGEANCE now their Sacred Song they use to
CALL the Faithful to Prey .

INCENDIARY of the Blinded Faithful
WHOSE “ eyes for eyes ” no longer see .
PROVOKING Panic when you are able .
PREACHING Intolerance in variations .
INCITING Unholy “ Holy Wars ” and
JIHADS like swarms of angry bees with nuclear stingers,
CAUSING riots by the score .
YOU do not fool me any more .

I know Your Game, I know it well .
“ DIVIDE and Conquer ”, same old same .
I see Your tracks and smell Your spoor .
THEY are not the Enemy, they never were .
YOU are .

TROUBLEMAKER, Peace - Breaker,
POISONER of Dreams .
CORRUPTOR of Faiths ranging freely without restraint . . .
SAVAGING the People You were meant to Protect .
EVIL is as Evil does . . . Chaos You create .
WITH Your actions leaving Destruction in Your wake .
YOU would bring us all down like animals of prey . . .
AND destroy Creation if You may .

I deny You .

WITHOUT the help of Fear,
ARMAGEDDON could not be .
YOU are a self - fulfilling Prophecy of Doom
AREN'T You ?
WHAT will You do if and or when,
IN spite of all Your efforts to enslave Man . . .
SWEET Peace should chance to Bloom ?
WITH enchanting fragrance rare and Life Renewing .
HOPE’ S Delight ,
RADIANT in the brilliant morning light .
HERALD of the Sacred Dawn . . . Momentous Day,
WITH Love for All to guide their way ?
WHAT then oh Wicked Beast - In - Man ?
HOW will You inspire the World to embrace Mayhem,
AND lead us to Despair and Ruin ?

ANCIENT Fear, apart yet not,
COLLECTIVE Part of the Worst in Us,
YOU have no power over me .
I’M now immune to Your Poison Lies .
CAN’ T You see ?
AND I am not alone .

WE’ VE cut Your ties that painfully bind .
OUR minds are Free, our hearts are Strong .
WE know Your tricks, We know You’re Wrong .

SHAPE - SHIFTER wearing Devil’s Mask today ,
AND priestly robes tomorrow .
SOMETIME Power Hidden Behind The Throne,
YOUR face may change , but Your Essence doesn’t .
YOU stink of Evil whatever you do, wherever you go .

HATE - Made - Flesh, Beast - In - Man.
FEEDING on the Best in Us since Time Began .
YOU can not exist If We All Deny You ! ! !

BEHOLD ! ! ! We are the Children of Tomorrow .
REBORN from Strife and Pain and Sorrow .
TRANSFORMED by Grace,
PHOENIX Spirits One and All .
HERALDS of the Sacred Dawn .
CARRIERS of Brightest Hope are We . . .
PRECIOUS Flowers to set Man Free .
BLOOMING on the Edge of What Is and Is Not,
WE know Where Angels Fear to tread and Why .
GUARDIANS of the Inner Light that Shines
FROM Dusk of Long Dark Night of the Soul . . .
TILL glorious, glorious, Miracle Dawn .
HERE to Bind Thee Forevermore from this very hour .
WE Expose and Rebuke Thee Vile Fear for What You Really Are . . .
BE gone from this World anon . We do not want you Here.
YOU have no place in Heaven on Earth to Come .
GOD ’S Plan has Changed, You are Undone ! ! !