Wednesday, December 29, 2010

an icy grace

each day
the sun rises little by little
and stays
ever so slightly longer

the water
(passing through the earthly part of its cycle)
dances backwards and forwards
between its liquid and solid states


an icy grace

in the sudden setting of the sun
is a similarly sudden chill
a chill that catches the water drowsing
in its sunny somnambulance
and quickly slows it down

- yes quickly slows it down -



forming it into a soft-edged layered lattice
that holds even the tiniest light
the slightest hue
the gentlest colours
rendering for the briefest of moments
the purest
simplest
truest
art

for anyone who happens to be drifting by


this post is dedicated to the astonishing tessa who (i discovered this morning) has flown away leaving a legacy of goodness and beauty and care and most especially real out thereness!
i knew i was in the right place when i saw her header on which is inscribed
"LIFE IS NOT A JOURNEY TO THE GRAVE WITH THE INTENTION OF ARRIVING SAFELY IN A PRETTY AND WELL PRESERVED BODY, BUT RATHER TO SKID IN SIDEWAYS, TOTALLY WORN OUT AND YELLING JOYOUSLY .... "WOOO HOOO WHAT A RIDE!"

25 comments:

Elisabeth said...

As my mother would say, Steven, 'It makes me cold to look at it.'

Reya Mellicker said...

Icy grace indeed. Yep.

Hey - I know you're not planning an early departure from this form, but having just lost the radiant Tessa (of Aerial Armadillo) I want to say, Steven: please do not die. OK? OK. xx and love.

steven said...

elisbaeth, it's an interesting feature of winter that regardless of what it looks like, you learn to know the cold days from the truly cold days. it's just below zero today, chilly, damp - the coldest kind of cold as compared to the twenty below zero days when it's simply cold!!! steven

steven said...

reya - you know that so much is beyond our control but i have wished for enough time to finish my current work and then greedy person that i am, to welcome the next phase of my existence able to welcome, approach and complete the rest of the work for which i'm intended. my dad flew away at the age of seventy five and that's an age that i've long assumed to be adequate for my purposes!! in the meantime i try to live my life in such a way as to bring honour to my existence - just in case!!!! steven

ellen abbott said...

love the photos steven.

Tess Kincaid said...

A lovely tribute to a lovely woman. I had not heard of Tessa's passing and am deeply saddened.

steven said...

thankyou ellen. steven

steven said...

hi tess, yes tessa was one of my earliest followers and held a place in the bloggy world that was uniquely her own. she did tremendous charitable support work and was a powerful presence. steven

Golden West said...

A lovely tribute, Steven, heartfelt.

Kay said...

what beautiful pppphotos...they mmmade me ssssshiver!!!xx

Linda Sue said...

No -hesitation- TESSA- She saw a job requiring doing and jumped in, sleeves rolled up, loving it! You and Tessa are similar.
At first ( because my eyesight is incredibly poor) I read "Icy Grave", Tessa would have thought that was hilarious following the day of her departure. The only things she seemed to take seriously- the welfare of others and common good, which she managed to drag out of even the most stubborn of us. I knew she was going, but the actuality is difficult. I tricked myself into the belief that there would be a miraculous last minute cure for MM, that a white coat would charge in with a magic potion, in a silver goblet sparkling with magic particles, and Tessa could go on with her wonderful life here on this planet for years to come. My "death" coping skills are not well honed...
Love what you wrote on Reya's post. Yup!

Dejemonos sorprender said...

Hi, as always beautiful pictures.. and your words are very pleasant to read..

Liza said...

"dances backwards and forwards
between its liquid and solid states"
I hear the music steven, and I am so sorry for the loss of your friend.

Lizzy Frizzfrock said...

I love your banner photo; it is gorgeous. As much as I love cool weather I am happy that the sun is slowly stretching us into longer days.

The tribute to Tessa is as beautiful as the wonderful person she was. I also loved her inscription: "... wooo hooo what a ride!" Not a bad way to live life!

elizabeth said...

Steven, so glad I stopped by today to see your brilliant icy photos and wonderful words.
Tessa was a one of a kind gem, so supportive of me and encouraging and all around wonderful.
I feel for her family.
Funny old thing -- life
I wish she were still here with us

so we must treasure our friends like mad

Greetings for the New Year

steven said...

thankyou golden west! steven

steven said...

kay it's a chilly day! you search for the smallest warmth in colour and light and stay as long as you're welcome. steven

steven said...

linda sue i'm not a fan of death but i have a genuine understanding of it in my own existence that i extend to my understanding when others fly away. i miss them terribly despite the understanding. tessa was a cool girl and i really really admire cool girls. cool people actually. steven

steven said...

thanks d.s. steven

steven said...

liza it's pure music that you hear in the coming and going the shifting backwards and forwards and the circling round. steven

steven said...

lizzy i'm glad you like the header photo. i posted it to show a little of the light and coloir that makes its way through no matter how cold or overcast the sky might be. it extends into our lives. steven

steven said...

elizabeth - thanks for the kind words - especiall the encouragement to treasure our friends. living our lives with quality and honour. steven

Pauline said...

Thanks Steven - it's the small moments, the captured ice moments, isn't it, that inspire and fulfill and make us grateful?

steven said...

pauline i know that there's on big moment and within it are little fractals . . . tiny moments . . . and that within those tiny moments are clues that lead to the real treasure. so for now, i focus on the little things, the tiny precious unimaginable fragile moments that are gone - like everything - before we know it. steven

Lorenzo — Alchemist's Pillow said...

A loving and lovely tribute to Tessa. I did not know her or her blog, which I am now discovering through your link, with that all too familiar mix of joyous discovery of a beautiful artistic soul and sadness on having arrived 'late' and knowing she is gone. So many missed connections in life. Thankfully, the threads that link all our blogs help span the abysmal gap in some mysterious way. Reading her blog I can hear the echo of her joyous "Woo hoo!" yell.