Flame Spirit

A Sunday of watercolors and Flame Spirits, she carries a vessel.

She Adorns the Self; spring rememberings

Shifting in twilight a ghost of Springtime past, sheds a tear for Winter to come but hurry fast.

The end of Autumn is ripe and the trees begin to grey. Brother North Wind pays his dues while dry and crumpled leaves blow down the path. Winter is impatient and can't hold back her whispers, she is whispering with the tree limbs of a hallow howl.

Love Fold Blind; winter digs her teeth

You can smell Her in the air as the wind carries messages through the trees. In love I have befallen so truthfully and gracefully, knee deep, still sinking.

A Stomach Full of Leeches

Last minute paintings leave me feeling like my stomach is being sucked dry from the inside out. A new gallery month and I have been asked to bring more than one piece to hang. I am nervous and excited all in one. Wish me luck. Am still working on the painting I am putting in. Waiting for the wax to dry.

Oriental Fire Room

Spent the weekend at my mother-in-law's and painted a watercolor. I haven't done many watercolors and haven't had any professional training so the outcome is all self taught.

Their White Conquer

Autumn comes and then she leaves so quickly. I didn't get a chance to speak her tongue. I didn't get a chance to kiss her hand. The drums are somewhere in the distance calling her to sleep as Lady Winter prepares to make her fleat and army. Come marching on this lands bringing their white conquer.

Divine like Autumn

Disolve into the air that now blows down the path with its cool tongue tasting the back of my neck. Between thighs and arms and gasps of lovers Autumn is craving a word or twice. Dance like fingers upon my throat sharp edged sheddings tumble down from limbs. Curious whispers and chattering somethings behind me, before me, befall my eyes. Save the moments inside my stomach, swelling and still wanting and calling me along. His voice is divine like Autumn.

From Her Lips

From her lips escapes the wisdom to the universe.

In the beginning their was a void filled with intertwining spirits. They whispered and kissed and caressed the limbs of others that slipped between. Like liquid lava lamps they danced in the freedom of self.

Ex Libris Number One

Here is a savable/printable bookplate for anyone and everyone! My gift to you! This is just the first in my "Ex Libris" series.

If you print one off to use take a photo of you and your book with the bookplate and send me the photo!

saibhriot@hotmail.com

Rain Water and Blood Trees

The infinite patterns can be traced on your hands and in the face. A moon knows only darkness in this vast space and time. What are memories but tiny mostly forgotten recollections. Sad and short standing alone in a puddle with her new shoes soaking up the rainwater.

There is blood in the trees and they spill over with abundance. The cup always full of crimson nature. Walking down the path with the water rushing at my heels, the leaves rushing at my eyes. This time of year haunts me to join the night-fire dances. Lifting my skirt a little higher each time.

Silent

Silent after the rain she came like a wolf in water. Feet as swift as Brother Wind.

The trees are bending low and blushing. Their arms pushing and pulling intertwined between love and wanting. I am the Wood Woman. My eyes full of tears as I view the haphazard unwantings of the humanrace. Thoughtless and easy to forget once it slips from your fingers. You count the steps it takes you to get where you are going. Let it go unforgotten that it isn't the merits you achieve but the journey there. That is what really counts.