In the beginning

..........................

was the song

..........................

..........................

..........................

A sound..........................

         A hum..........................

                            A frequency..........................

..........................

Sweet, infinite symphony

..........................

singing across the eternal nothing

..........................

..........................

..........................

until

..........................

..........................

..........................

something

.

form & structure

.

strings & strands

.

matter

.

mana

.

.

.

The song : the heartbeat

.

.

.

Blessed ॐ

.

Divine Amen

.

I Am

Namaste,

Shannan

Danny's birthday weekend we decided to head to San Francisco. I am convinced that in his past lives Dan was one of the downtrodden, struggling type of men. He has an affinity for the dark spaces and rough edges. Alcatraz was where he wanted to go...so that's where we went. 

"Stairway to the Rec Yard"

Dan was convinced of the prisoners' stories that The Rock was a horrible place to be imprisoned. But I don't think it was that bad. They were surrounded by the sounds of the bay, could read all they wanted and eat all they wanted. They could write, paint, knit, and garden outside.  Way better than San Quintin!

"View From Inside"

The next day, before meeting Kelsea and Mattea for Mattea's audtition for Berklee School of Music, we wandered The Academy of Sciences. Much more my cup of tea.

"Chatterbox"

Another great, creative weekend with Dan followed by Mattea kicking ass at her Berklee audition.

God. Am I gonna have to say goodbye to my baby and live for 4 years with her in Boston??? :(

I'll leave you with her, singing in our back yard.

Namaste,

Shannan

"Flower Bones"

An evening hike along The Stanislaus with Danny, enjoying the bare bones of nature before Spring bursts forth.

"Twigs & Branches"

"Abandoned Rails"

"Dead Tracks"

Namaste,

Shannan

A weekend of chasing sunsets. Last night The Wildlife Refuge at the end of Gates Road near Mape's Ranch.

Tonight a Valentine's evening picnic...

To be continued...

Namaste, 

Shannan

Ear candy from my daughter, Mattea. Enjoy!

Namaste,

Shannan

Thanks to my daughter's boyfriend, I have a new creative toy.

>>>Insert shout out to Major Seven, (or as we call him, Maxwell) here.<<<

It's called Glitch Lab. It's a free app on the iPhone, and it's ADDICTING!!!!

I import photos I have taken into this genius little app and create Glitch Art with it.

It is no secret that all our technological gadgets are imperfect. Our devices have bugs, which cause malfunctions. A glitch is the unexpected result of a malfunction in our software, video games, images, videos, audio, and other forms of data. Glitch art is a celebration of these technological mishaps.

The Glitch Lab app makes use of the bugs in technology and allows the artist to recreate the conditions that cause glitches. By bending circuits, manipulating codes and deleting raw data, we can exploit flaws and make them interesting works of art. 

From my experimentation, there is no way to get an intentional effect. You chose a tool or effect, rub your finger on the screen and see what you get. It's always a surprise. But rather than being frustrating, as creating art can sometimes be, Glitching is a liberating, entrancing experience.

Try it. See if you like it!

Namaste,

Shannan

I did not enjoy my walk today.

It was cold and loneliness was my coat.

The ache of grief ate at me like a hunger.

No need to worry, though. This is my normal.

Days of unbounded enthusiasm.

Moments of gray.

A constant sway between the two. 

I never learned to walk the tightrope of non-duality—that razor-thin line that people call peace.

That requires another kind of coat...a barrier between me and the senses.

How would I become one with the tree and feel how its damp skin flowers with moss and algae this time of year?

How would I BE the pansy, my roots embraced by the earth, my delicate petals bearing the bitter wind and devouring the delicious sunlight?

I make a conscious choice to feel too much. Even when it hurts.

There is plenty of time to be dead later.

Shannan

"Tumblin Tumbleweeds"

"Got Grid?"