Annie B's eddy

Saturday, April 18, 2015

I AM what I AM, We are what we are. We are ALL, healing one, healing all, healing all......

photos of the Second Sunday Drum Circle 4/12/15 by Betty Kolar

who I am finding is a phenomenal photographer.

Thanks Betty for setting up the Citrus County Drummers Facebook page.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/922465731107196/

Like us y'all. Better yet, come join us and soak up the LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!
2 of my favorite drummer dudes...also by Betty Kolar!!!!

and the dust clears......

my "Turtle steps" Pizza oven

For Patrick

Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

"Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white,

Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;

Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font.

The firefly wakens. Waken thou with me.

Now droops the milk white peacock like a ghost,

And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.

Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars,

and all thy heart lies open unto me.

Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves

A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.

Now folds the Lily all her sweetness up,

and slips into the bosom of the lake;

So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip

Into my bosom and be lost in me."

Friday, April 10, 2015

my new slogan

Today at the library, I ran into my Dad's old friend Jack. Jack lives down the road from us and is 90 years old. He was in World War II at Normandy and drove a truck all his life. He grew up near Sabina, Ohio and still takes care of part of his old family farm there. Yep, Jack is what you call a snowbird around these parts. He has been a good friend all these years to my Dad and still remains his buddy today. He's a funny old guy (probably ) on the opposite end of every spectrum from me, but I love talking to him and getting some of his stories. In a few weeks he will make his yearly return snowbird flight in his newish rust colored truck back up the pike to O-H-I-O!

Collage as art therapy....

Above are some art therapy collages that I made after my Little Brother Patrick passed on and before my Mom followed him to the great beyond/heaven/eternity. The bottom painting part of my collage was a painting in the Columbus Museum of Art and I cannot remember the painter. I love it because it reminds me of 3/4 of my genetic makeup (family) that lived in worked down in Southeastern (Rendville, Corning, Glouster) Ohio, picking up coal along the tracks.