the right place

finding the right place for the heart

maybe this is the place

working on heart
integrate  them
in the big tea party quilt
the story continues

more hearts

whispering hearts a lovely class by Jude Hill

Whisper to my heart
So it may learn the secrets
Of a dream come true

Art and heart

Though critics may bow to art, and I am its own true lover,
It is not art, but heart, which wins the wide world over.

Though smooth be the heartless prayer, no ear in Heaven will mind it,
And the finest phrase falls dead if there is no feeling behind it.

Though perfect the player's touch, little, if any, he sways us,
Unless we feel his heart throb through the music he plays us.

Though the poet may spend his life in skilfully rounding a measure,
Unless he writes from a full, warm heart he gives us little pleasure.

So it is not the speech which tells, but the impulse which goes with the saying;
And it is not the words of the prayer, but the yearning back of the praying.

It is not the artist's skill which into our soul comes stealing
With a joy that is almost pain, but it is the player's feeling.

And it is not the poet's song, though sweeter than sweet bells chiming,
Which thrills us through and through, but the heart which beats under the rhyming.

And therefore I say again, though I am art's own true lover,
That it is not art, but heart, which wins the wide world over.

 Ella Wheeler Wilcox's

BUILDING A HOUSE

Of building houses there is no end
with bricks and feelings thoughts and mind,
using the universal glue
that clings and sticks and binds.

Lovers spin webs for castles,
conquerors ancestral halls,
angels their heavenly mansions,
demons their prison walls.

Actors that tread the boards
and actors on the street
have studied how to speak their lines
and where to put their feet.

Each is his own creator
and jostles with the crowd,
entangled with his own conceits
by turns both arrogant and cowed.

Mother Earth

after a phone call with a dear friend

I remembered this 

The challenge we are working on
because of grieve and difficult times
we never came to this challenge

 For me this was a very nice theme
in a basket forgotten there she was

I took here out and love here
I will work on here again
and maybe we all come togethere again
to finish this challenge


have a nice day

Kantha

Jude is talking about Kantha

I did a try of Kantha for C&G

finished purse

joy

The morning sun began to shine.
I felt a gentle glow inside.
A sensation of happiness came to me.
A wonderful feeling of being free

My worries and cares seemed far away.
I knew this would be a special day.
Things that once mattered were now in the past.
I'm really wanting this feeling to last.

My joy and excitement I cannot hide.
Even my smile is extra wide.
I want to reach out and delight everyone
To touch their lives like a warm ray of sun 

Old Things are More Beautiful

(Clay Harrison)
Old things are more beautiful
than many things brand new
Because they bring fond memories
of things we used to do.
Old photographs in albums,
love letters tied with lace
Recapture those old feelings
that new ones can't replace.
Baby shoes, a Teddy bear,
a ring that grandma wore,
Are treasures waiting there behind
a door marked "Nevermore".
Old things are more beautiful,
more precious day-by-day.
Because they are the flowers
we planted yesterday.

Journal Cover

Full moon woven on a piece of Japanese woven paper 
A cover for a Journal
This is for the on-line class I will take on February
The Teacher Victoria Payne

Green fingers

Whatever she plants it grows rapidly.
Her soft magical fingers devote for a green house.
He was mesmerized to her sing-song while she was in the fields.
Though he passes several times on her premises
He is not so lucky to touch her transparent fingers.
Already a young vegetarian has joined her green revolution.
But once in a way he peeps to buy fresh vegetables.
Then he touches her finger tips.
He lived in his illusion half of the journey.

Full Moon

Full Moon Dream

When all living things I comtemplate,
your sun and stars, your galaxies,
like a flickering candle flame
my soul is overcome,
and just as the moon can only shine
by reflection of its sun, so is my being,
only to wane into the unseen,
until it stands
before + thee
again.

silence

SILENCE
Do not mistake silence for ignorance
For silence is not empty though it seems so

Even a thousand words could never compare
To the message transferred by one cold stare

A mind consumed and filled with thought
Would have less to say than one which is not

As a rubbish can would ring much less
If it was full than one empty of trash

Look up to clouds that roll by slow
Sile

Caterpillar

Brown and furry
Caterpillar in a hurry
Take your walk
To the shady leaf or stalk.
May no toad spy you,
May the little birds pass by you,
Spin and die,
To live again a butterfly.

A brand new year

A brand new year!
A clean slate on which to write
our hopes and dreams.
This year:
Less time and energy on things;
More time and energy on people.
All of life’s best rewards,
deepest and finest feelings,
greatest satisfactions,
come from people--
people like you. Happy New Year!