"Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakens."

Carl Jung


Meaning Making: Inspired By Poetry


“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.”

― Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum

The multi-talented Carla Sonheim is currently offering a most wonderful class called "Meaning Making", taught by one of the most engaging artist/teachers I have had the pleasure of learning from, Lendon Noe.

The class incorporates mark making together with poetry, which is so perfect for a person such as myself that has read (and written) poetry for most of their life. A perfect pairing!

I find that taking online classes keeps my creative spark alive and there is nothing quite as enjoyable to me as learning new techniques and expanding my artistic (and art supply) horizons. I remain forever grateful to the many artists that continue to inspire and delight me daily with their unique and varied talents. That holds true for writers too. Words hold so much power- and in this age of unrest and so much uncertainty, they can offer solace and comfort in a real healing way.

As the first exercise suggests: "Dare to say what apple really is."  (R.M. Rilke).  There is so much beauty and wonder to be found in the ordinary.



To the Fringed Gentian


Thou blossom bright with autumn dew,
And colored with the heaven’s own blue,
That openest when the quiet light
Succeeds the keen and frosty night.

Thou comest not when violets lean
O’er wandering brooks and springs unseen,
Or columbines, in purple dressed,
Nod o’er the ground-bird’s hidden nest.

Thou waitest late and com’st alone,
When woods are bare and birds are flown,
And frosts and shortening days portend
The aged year is near his end.

Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye
Look through its fringes to the sky,
Blue-blue-as if that sky let fall
A flower from its cerulean wall.

I would that thus, when I shall see
The hour of death draw near to me,
Hope, blossoming within my heart,
May look to heaven as I depart.

(William Cullen Bryant)


Eastern Bluebird


"A man who never sees a bluebird only half lives."

(Edwin Way Teale)
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