Tag Archives: digital photography

February 8, 2020

don’t move in winter

if you can avoid it, don’t move
in winter when days are short, no
birdsong to sweeten the dawn; no
cricket chatter, no creepers
chirping to quell the cold, black
silence of endless nights…take
it from me, i don’t advise it, for
change is never easy during
the season of letting go; when
death looms in the shadows seeking
souls to pluck. Winter is not for the
faint of heart…i know, and yet,
i am a tree, uprooted, barren limbs
trembling, bending, mantle scattered
to the wind, faded fronds snatched
from my fingertips as frost’s cool
kisses nip; numb to the core, i am
dormant, no consolation but the
promise of spring, of soft rain fall,
sun-warmed buds bursting, fields
of flowering weeds, nestling beaks
gaping, earthworms slithering,
rainbows, and greening…beautiful
greening…sigh…the tree that i am
rests for now in sleepy slumber
inside these unfamiliar walls…
perhaps they will feel like
home come spring…come spring

~kat

17 Comments | tags: digital photography, free verse, Poetry, Winter | posted in Digital Art & Photos, free verse, Poetry, Random Thoughts and Musings

January 20, 2020

A Life Dismantled

By Kat Myrman

A Life Dismantled

sifting through the decades
of accumulated stuff
must haves in the moment
diamonds in the rough
for those timeless treasures,
only bubble wrap will do
shake the dust and cobwebs off
comfy well worn shoes
gently slip the photographs
from old broken frames
happy memories mingling
with faces with no names
shedding all the dross
that held me in the past
so to travel lighter
with only things that last
yet another chapter waits
its pages to be penned
each day, the simple gift of life
to live full to the end

~kat

I must admit this downsizing thing has truly disoriented me. I find myself clinging to routine, the easiest thing to assimilate to my new surroundings. But I have yet to find that sweet spot, where words flow like honey, where my eyes see things in ways that only an artist and writer can. I’m learning to live off the grid, with its big, starry black-mantled silence, and amber sunrises over distant mountains in the morning. For now they only manage to take my breath away. There are no words apart from the few sing-songy rhymes I manage to eke out. I know she’s in there…somewhere in the recesses of my mind…the muse who so relentlessly pursued me amidst the clutter and cacophony of city life. But here in the country? She must be cavorting with the faeries, giggling from behind downed tree hollows at my dizzy dry spell. I had every intention to start January 1st, full steam ahead. Part of the issue, I think, may be that I still need to unload the stuff we left behind and sell the dark, drafty, century old house I called home for over a decade. I need to be free of it. And so, I will drop a line now and again until I regain my footing. Peace and love to you. Until next glimpse…❤️

13 Comments | tags: digital art., digital photography, Poetry, rhyme | posted in Essays, Poetry, Random Thoughts and Musings

December 26, 2019

The New House

By Kat Myrman

The New House

No creaky floors, no walls

that groan with century old tales,

no glaring street lights dimming

the star-flecked, velvet veil.

No nosy neighbors peaking

through shuttered curtain slits,

the quiet here is deafening

but for a hawk’s shrill twit.

The timpani of woodpeckers,

a lone owl’s soft hoot hoo,

gray squirrels cluck from lofty boughs

and deer folk bound from view.

Here, just enough is everything

a body needs and more,

simplicity’s perfection gleams

from white-washed walls and doors.

It’s rather like a dream here still,

of drywall, sticks and stone.

She stood here empty on a hill

until I called her home.

~kat

(Settling in, finding my voice amidst new surroundings…and perhaps a tiny nudge from a sleepy muse!)

13 Comments | tags: digital art., digital photography, home, Poetry, reentry | posted in Digital Art & Photos, Poetry, Random Thoughts and Musings

October 13, 2019

döstädning

By Kat Myrman

döstädning

I am a tree in autumn,
limbs stiffening from
dawn’s first frost,
clinging wistfully to
the dying remnants of
summer, old photographs,
books, trinkets, effigies
of a life lived long and
full, roots deeply
entrenched in the
familiar, yielding to
the wind whispering, it is
time to let go, to render
to yesterday its relics,
to turn the brittle page
in naked abandon, to rest
my soul in the cool present,
to sleep, to dream of
another glorious spring

~kat

Döstädning, which means “death cleaning” in English, is a method of downsizing and organizing from the Swedish author and artist Margareta Magnusson. Death cleaning isn’t about getting rid of all your stuff, but rather streamlining your life so you’re only holding onto what makes you happy.

I am moving from my big two story home in a month into a sweet little one level home on a hill in foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Hence, I’ve been a little less prolific in my writing here, obviously preoccupied with the details of moving. I am hoping my daughters appreciate my efforts to leave a smaller footprint for them to dispose of when I’m gone. And as for the years I have left (which I hope are many) I am excited to begin a new, simpler chapter. Peace!

Here’s my new view…