tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2899447029099688486.post7952430250572487823..comments2024-03-26T05:20:10.232-04:00Comments on Between the By-Road and the Main Road: #SOL16: Covered with StarsMary Ann Reillyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14349201167828984708noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2899447029099688486.post-14077362464814405942016-06-07T23:22:55.710-04:002016-06-07T23:22:55.710-04:00There is much here that draws me in. My mother has...There is much here that draws me in. My mother has only been gone a couple of months. Your words articulate where I am at, "For me there are no stages of grief, just as there are no sanctioned ways to feel or be. I think of grief more as strange attractor, than a stage. For it is oscillation, not linear movement that better describes the last 9 months. And like strange attractors, there is Cheriee Weichelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15662398117320256935noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2899447029099688486.post-57000162211319854652016-06-07T19:42:51.725-04:002016-06-07T19:42:51.725-04:00"Each person's grief has its own signatur..."Each person's grief has its own signature." That line is sticking with me, Mary Ann, among other idiosyncratic etchings of time and memory from my minutes today with your vivid thoughts.Brian Rozinskyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09048331327558931283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2899447029099688486.post-49596289659835727892016-06-07T19:15:43.128-04:002016-06-07T19:15:43.128-04:00"It is within the ordinary bits of living and... "It is within the ordinary bits of living and loving that who we are best finds expression." I love this, because this is what I believe, too. It's the cracks that lets the light in...as the song goes.Tarahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13626451110946889157noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2899447029099688486.post-56565899732822994272016-06-07T16:00:16.235-04:002016-06-07T16:00:16.235-04:00Just a smile. Thanks.Just a smile. Thanks.Bill Tracyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15921814204827539761noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2899447029099688486.post-12522920667976209532016-06-07T13:38:16.711-04:002016-06-07T13:38:16.711-04:00Arriving home is seen in your art, Mary Ann. There...Arriving home is seen in your art, Mary Ann. There are so many layers to your image. Darkness surrounds the city but bright colored light is shown signifying hope among the shifting clouds. Beautiful and deep. Would you please consider sending me a thumbnail of one of your art pieces that would suit my spring gallery, Spring's Seeds? You live brilliantly in your art. Carol Varsalonahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02589714711155938528noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2899447029099688486.post-74067445501856006722016-06-07T09:36:07.125-04:002016-06-07T09:36:07.125-04:00I love the use of imposters as a verb," impos...I love the use of imposters as a verb," imposters us back into the world. ". That is it so clearly. And I suspect that at some point along the way impostering will yield to simply being. Thank you Bonnie and I'm pleased to know you have Ami.Mary Ann Reillyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14349201167828984708noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2899447029099688486.post-56578841511992005622016-06-07T09:10:35.519-04:002016-06-07T09:10:35.519-04:00"It is within the ordinary bits of living and..."It is within the ordinary bits of living and loving that who we are best finds expression." That phrase "ordinary bit of living and loving" is one I'm jotting in my notebook. I love the pace of this piece and the journey you're sharing with us. Thanks for writing.<br />Ramonahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15929914252480696798noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2899447029099688486.post-54895082647754729112016-06-07T07:51:41.565-04:002016-06-07T07:51:41.565-04:00As I ingest your words I am deeply touched and mov...As I ingest your words I am deeply touched and moved into a broader realm and way of being. It seems, perhaps, of course?, (right...no one way or set of stages)that grief hits hard when love has been experienced, shared; and that the loss of that shared love then broadens a new experience of love. That which has been left behind morphs into new possibilities. I'm thinking of it as a circular Carol Fishelman-Rosen, LCSWhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12632544228994202106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2899447029099688486.post-46969945336487349532016-06-07T06:56:45.263-04:002016-06-07T06:56:45.263-04:00I love the use of imposters as a verb," impos...I love the use of imposters as a verb," imposters us back into the world. ". That is it so clearly. And I suspect that at some point along the way impostering will yield to simply being. Thank you Bonnie and I'm pleased to know you have Ami.Mary Ann Reillyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14349201167828984708noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2899447029099688486.post-28006351106679918952016-06-07T06:22:34.367-04:002016-06-07T06:22:34.367-04:00Now that's a big Ahha at 3 months. It's th...Now that's a big Ahha at 3 months. It's that love that warms us,covers us, imposters us back into the world. <br /> I cried a lot. I started to just live with teary eyes. So good that you have Devon. I have Tuvias wonderful son Ami, a younger version.<br /> This is a very hopeful piece. This one fits me.<br /> We are in sync friend.<br />BonnieBKhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07973593425566621090noreply@blogger.com