Isn’t it so clear

                         Nature knows the connection

                         Why can’t we see it?

I join the world in mourning the senseless deaths of so many in Paris, France yesterday. If we truly understand that we are interconnected in every way then we will heal together but we must not allow violence and terrorism to win. Vive La France!

Why I was Helena (and where I’m at now)

Melba Christie at Poemattic:

I know exactly what you mean!

Originally posted on Stories that Must Not Die:

For a while, Helena Hann-Basquiat was everywhere on the blogosphere.  She was posting regularly.  She had full-length novels she was working on.  She was reading and leaving insightful comments on more blogs than seemed possible at times, given there are only 24 hours in a day, and some of those have to be spent eating and sleeping.  Her voice was unique and dominating.  And then, one day, the truth came out:  Helena was a pseudonym being used by a male writer.  I invited H.K. Abell to share a bit of his story with our community because it is certainly one that should not die:

1 – Helena


I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again – I never wanted to be a blogger.

What I wanted – what I have come to understand is impossible – was just to write, and to have that writing stand alone, on…

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Melba Christie at Poemattic:

Today was a gloomy day and most of the trees are bare. A little melancholy perhaps.

Originally posted on Melba Christie at Poemattic:

“Aloneness and all-oneness is our authentic nature. We are always alone and all-one. We came into this planet alone and all-one. We will leave alone and all-one. And also during our whole staying in this world, no matter how we engage in relationships, we continue to be alone and all-one, though we may forget about it or pretend it is not the case.”

Even a flower can count on the company among other flowers. It can see the blades of grass and the earth that sustains it. No company needed I do not think. Or at least we do not know for sure because we cannot hear them speak or complain of loneliness.  It may wither or wilt, maybe from lack of water or nourishment or even love. My mother believed flowers did listen when spoken to and grew and blossomed fuller and more beautiful. Nature is fickle though.


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On Creativity

“The creative mind plays with the objects it loves”

                                                 – Carl Jung


Tools of the trade

I recently visited the exhibit of Frida Kahlo at the New York Botanical Gardens. I took this picture of the desk where she painted. I imagined her sitting there looking around at her beautiful garden. I have many of her biographies and books that illustrate her work. The complexity and depth of her soul is in her work. I have different storage places for my paints, pens, pencils and brushes. These are among some of the objects I love. I see them as extensions of my mind and  a creative source. All I need to do is walk by a vase full of paint brushes (the older the better) and I cannot resist the urge to create something. Sometimes I fall in love with what I have done and other times I put it away to look at again at a later time. It is my way of looking at things from a different perspective.

I took the picture but I also examined each piece very carefully. Each object had a spirit. Each has a purpose. Creativeness has a purpose. It was an amazing experience, almost surreal.

From my drawing pad


I often go back and read my favorite poems or verses by some of my

favorite poets. Sometimes I draw or paint and look for a quote that

fits. But many times my inspiration comes from a poem or quotation.

I love Coleridge and after drawing this simple flower I remember this


On Halloween

Six black and white Pumpkins

On Halloween

there are two schools of thought

either you believe in ghosts or you don’t

some say it’s a holiday derived from the devil

others feel it is simply a time to revel

Candy corn and snickers bars

is all I care about

simple fun and dressing up

like a coffee cup.

whatever it is that you believe

one thing is for certain

if you happen to bump into a ghoul

run as fast as you can

and do not be a fool.

Happy Halloween!

Be safe! Check all candy before you eat.


hello sunshine

Happiness went walking one day
And caught up with me
Quite unexpectedly

It asked me to give it all my sadness
It bundled all my fears
And soaked up all my tears

Happiness knew exactly what to do
To put a smile on my face
It reminded me of my blessings
They outweigh the bad
So there is really no good reason
To be ever sad

Happiness is a choice we make;
it waits for you the minute you wake.
Always look on the sunny side
It’s a rule you must abide
What good is it to dwell on the negative
When you can choose to be happy
Keep your life in check
and keep in sight the positive.

The Simplicity of Pink

pink simplicity

Pink means many things

It is quintessentially the color of serenity


and unfortunately the color creating awareness

for that horrible disease I rather not pronounce today.

It is the Rock Star;

the sexy secrets,

only Victoria knows for sure.

It is the color of a Rose

and other delicate flowers

like the ones in Frida’s garden.

Pink is the color of my granddaughter’s cheeks

it illuminates her smile

and fills my heart with joy.

The simplicity of pink is not so simple after all.

My Mind

Mountain Scene


My mind drifts often
Like snow does in a winter storm
It takes short walks to get energized
When it returns
It reminds me of the sweet things in life

It does not allow me to think about the
Times of strife and suffering and of when
Sometimes my soul was not a soul

My mind escapes me occasionally;
It takes vacations to exotic places,
Where everyone is so relaxed,
They forget they exist.
What a wonderful feeling that can be sometimes.

My mind fills with imagination;
It questions the questionable;
It rejects the rejection;
Without exception.

My mind builds mountains
On the dessert.
Makes the moon smile sometimes,
And grows tiger lilies on the side
Of a lonely road to keep it company

My mind
Yes, it is quite unique
Inventive, and sometimes absent
From reality and the truth.

Josephina sees herself in the mirror

Josephina sees herself in the mirror for the very first time

her baby blues open wide

in awe of the image

she does not know yet

belongs to her

for she is only seven months old

Josephina examines the face carefully

moves in closer

looks straight into her own eyes

Wrinkles her tiny nose

giggles joyfully

in approval of the beautiful little girl

probably thinking they will be the best of friends

her mother watches proudly in the background

takes a short vídeo of the memorable encounter

and emails it to abuela.

And of course as all abuelas do

she is so proud

all she can think of to say

“¡Que Linda!”

deja vous all over again

Josephina’s mom did the same thing

Mirror, mirror,

Thanks for the memories!