Karinaland River

  Looking at you… f aintly the handwriting reads:    Karina & Bob, Here’s looking at you in 1994 With best regards, Howard   Back when he studied T’ai Chi with me for a few years, Howard was already older, a fine, eccentric gentleman. And a very good and well-known artist. With a deeply philosophical side to him which made him enjoy my way of teaching the Art and Principles of this ancient practice. He’d have questions, comments, always delighted by insights, his or mine.   In the hallway I often pass his small watercolor, with its (faded by now) inscription to Bob and me. Bob’s birthday will be in three days on May 18.  If alive, my late husband – who died in October of 2016 – would turn ninety-five this year. Suddenly I feel the presence of time in my heart, swirling about back and forth, swooshing from chamber to chamber, expanding. Howard’s greeting from 1994 – thirty years later, I am now seventy, about the age he was back then.  Suddenly I am engulfed by the dynamically shift

  Braiding This time of year, I love braiding the soft long narcissus leaves. Instead of discarding them, the braids will dissolve back into earth in winter.   rock rose   Right now – among the abundant green textures in my small front patio – three dominant and radiant colors are braiding themselves into an ecstatic realm. The fuchsia pink of the rhododendron, the purple pink of the rock rose and the orange red of the gladioli. These glowing, almost clashing colors mingle harmoniously. Their exuberant co-existence is mesmerizing. I take my lunch amidst this wonder. It won’t last long…   gladioli   Our personal joys – a grandchild’s first step, feet touching sand, winning an award, a friend’s letter, the apple tree’s first blossoms – they arise from us relating to our immediate surroundings. The realms of individual, community and collective – collective meaning: culture, place, history – are fibers that weave us continuously into existence, whether we know it or not. Ever changing. Ma