Summer Morning. Its just how summer feels. Sometimes I just want to sit in the sun all day. Let the warm flow through me. Feel the breeze gentle on my skin lightly bringing me cool relief. The perfect day when there is no where to go and no clock to look at and no job or chore to be done just sitting in the sun on a summers day.
The photo above was taken by my great-grandfather, Frank Corringham, of my grandparents, Donald Corringham and Nellie Jones when they were dating sometime around 1942. I’ve always loved this picture, and I have attempted several poems inspired by both it and what we call the “Nazi” camera – an antique camera my grandmother’s brother, who was a photographer stationed with the Canadian Army in Europe during WWII, took from a fallen German Soldier. Below is an early attempt I just rediscovered in an old writer’s notebook and revised for this week’s TGAP submission. Next week, I will submit a more recent draft based upon this same photo and camera.
He holds her in the palm
Of an outstretched hand;
On the beaches of Herb’s
Cove, he promises forever.
But she is tiny, dancing
In his hand, the way
Women become when they
Accept that promise
And cleave.
Flying Lesson 18
As planned, terribly unplanned!
The main reason for this is that I decide to use trust. So today I don’t walk, instead I follow the Path* that has led to all my previous walks and will lead to my very first real lift off, somewhere far in the future, not yet visible.
The walk (the short one still needed) leads straight down to the water, to the source of everything, to the lowest point in my surroundings.
Launching the boat, with muscles, mind and close collaboration. We leave the shore and head towards open water where there’s freedom, total trust and endless possibilities.
It’s amazing how far one can reach while simply sitting close together in the smallest of boats, surrounded by deep waters, blinding reflections and occasional swans, using only oars and the intrinsic power of mind.
We make it anywhere, in both time and space.
Nothing is impossible!
We reach our goals constantly!
As expected (although I wasn’t all that sure) there’s total trust in the Path* I follow . Without being clouded or guided by colored expectations, but simply because it’s in no way mixed up with dependence. I’m still the one responsible for myself but there’s no need to control me or anyone else.
The sky gets higher and the strenght renewed.
Everything becomes increasingly possible to achieve.
Trust is the strongest lift force I’ve ever tried during my flying lessons.
The next step is trusting myself.
* Translation
Path=Stig
following my friend Stig
This is the cork board next to my desk with many of my favorite things on it. I’m sure some of you will recognize
Tried knitting again. This time with some experience of what to expect. Tension is improved and added a fancy button!
Homemade incense… Recipe:
20 parts various herbs(sage,lavendar,pine balsam, rose petals)
4 parts oils or resin(1 part patcouli oil and 3 parts of myrrh)
1 part gum arabic (binding agent)
2 parts salt peter( maybe hard to find now because it is an ingredient in gunpowder)
1 glass or ceramic bowl
Grind everything but oil and salt peter in a dedicated coffee grinder (incense makes coffee taste horrible!!!)
Add salt peter to a little bit of water(1 tablespoon) to dissolve it.
Add oil to herb mixture in a glass bowl (plastic and metal bowls will retain smell and taste of incense)
Add salt peter water to mixture when it has dissolved
Add enough water to make the mixture like playdough or clay
Form it into shapes such as cones or rods
Let dry ( in the AZ sun, it only takes a couple of hours)
This is one of my early pieces that i did. I think i was in 5th grade in Ossipee Central School.
The Back Rooms of My Mind- Door 28711
The final version of my August desktop wallpaper. It came out okay, I think. (If you right click + view image, you can see it the way it’s supposed to be seen and not so squished)
I title this weeks geek –
“The Art of Zen”
Life, fast- slow- dark – light – Relaxed- Tumultuous-
depending – from moment to moment to moment – nothing is guaranteed is it ever? And so – like living lightly in a strang land a wise host here on planet earth is a practicer of “The Art of Zen” finding time for a sacred space amongst chaos- creating, your own magical story, horizon – moment. Because lets face it, who will do it if you dont?
I have lit candles in Prayer and Love
I have Sat with my God and Goddess
I have hung my feet over the ledge dangling on either side of the line
I have walked the sacred Path
I have Meditated at the Vortex
I have sang with the blue birds
I have howled with the Wolves
I have found myself in light
I have found myself in darkness
and three words ring true to me in all these spaces- within all these things
Shanti Shanti Shanti
Peace Peace Peace
So the secret, the truth to the art of Zen – RELEASING
every single expectations you have in the moment that may or may not be met – and instead – replacing it with a deep acceptance, understanding and Love – fueled from where? the only space guaranteed to fulfill while still taking breaths on planet earth, from no other – no external source- but from your very own heart.
In gratitude an enlightened one walked over to me at the vortex while I was hugging a tree, and said “Have a crystal” – I in awe, replied “Have a Hug”
Here is the crystal he handed me 
and so, as this wise one has gifted me in tangible efforts, I too gift you – with “The Art of Zen” = Releasing , accepting
“And he shall give his angels charge over you to keep you in all ways” 
With so much love,
Ashley
materials: photo paper, 3.5" floppy disk, brads, magazine pages, craft glue
The “vinyl record” and “turntable arm” portions were scavenged from the inside of a 3.5″ floppy disk and attached to photo paper with craft brads; the letters were clipped from an old issue of Rolling Stone magazine.
1987: LAZY SATURDAY AFTERNOON
When I was a kid, the biggest thrill of my week was hopping on my trusty, rusty BMX bike and racing down to Robbin’s General Store on Friday afternoons to spend my hard-earned allowance on comic books, candy, and soda. The $5.00 I received each week in 1987 (equivalent to $3.4 million 2011 dollars – or at least it seemed that way at age 10) was usually enough to keep me in all the comic books I could ever want, and sustain a sugar buzz until the inevitable crash, waiting for the school bus and cranky old Mrs. Belyea on Monday morning.
To be honest, I wasn’t much of a Marvel Comics kid – I much preferred the squeaky-clean antics of Archie, Betty, and Veronica hanging out at Pop Tate’s Malt Shop. All my friends were into superhero stuff. As an adult, I’ve gained a bit of appreciation for the storylines and the art that went into them. What strikes me more now are the advertisements for products I had, or lusted after.
What Generation X boy WASN’T obsessed at one time with D&D, video games, and helping Spider-Man free Cap’n Crunch? Any given Saturday afternoon, I’d be sprawled out someplace with a pile of comic books. Long after the cartoons and American Bandstand were over and “Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom” or “ABC’s Wide World of Sports” were on, that would be my cue to escape into the pages of my favorite comics with a glass bottle of Jolt Cola and a pile of Little Debbie snacks…
If you were to saw open my brain in 1987, this is pretty much what you’d see. (Hell, more than 25 years later, it’s STILL a fair representation of what’s on my mind.)
Lastly, to any comic book fans out there – yes, several comic books were harmed in the making of this collage. Sorry.
TwinGeekz Artz Project 