Category: Love

  • Delusions of Grandeur

    Delusions of Grandeur

    Here’s something for "Perfection ", Peter. It’s a superbly spiritual passage from Mark Helprin, a writer whose fiction I love, though whose politics I loathe.  Life hands out challenges like that, doesn’t it? Beauty is found in the most unusual places. Had I known his politics before having read most of his books, I might…

  • Yes…Passion

    Yes…Passion

    I love Passion ! Now that’s an inspiring gallery.  But sweetness, how ever did you miss this Chekirov print? Hmmm? Ms. Passionate Parisien? Yes, Paris is a date…Quatorze Juillet at the North East leg…and then after the Tower, we’ll find a wonderful little pension and while away the days as the French scurry all about…

  • Passion

    Passion

    Hmmmm. . .  feeling in the mood for a little passion today… I love the gestures, the embraces. I love the passionate, sensual energy captured in each painting, especially Chekirov and Martinez … Oh My! My imagination soars, crosses the ocean between us and you are here, embracing me.

  • Jane

    Jane

    I tried to make him understand. Tried so hard to give him the images and emotions of my experience.  His subconcious is so powerful. It resisted, turned it into a dream about being in a jeep chased by a dinosaur through a jungle. A nightmare, for sure, but not the nightmare I’d lived out, not…

  • 16 thoughts I felt compelled to write down one day in 2008.

    16 thoughts I felt compelled to write down one day in 2008.

    5. Your body knows more about your spiritual well being than your mind does. Teach your mind to listen to it. ~ Some days, insight floods you. I didn’t sit down to write this collection of insights, it’s just what came out in response to a challenge: jot down 16 brief notes about yourself.

  • Glenn

    Glenn

    Summers in New Hampshire provide a teenager with blissfully warm weather and an abundance of distractions from the boredom that seems to accompany the day-to-day existence of the young. There were the streams in which I’d fish for trout, and the marinas filled with pickerel, and Weirs Beach with its small mouth bass. My father’s…