Monthly Archives: September 2012

Window Screen

An old church along the side of a country road wore white clapboard siding and soft blue hand carved trim. Most of the windows were open to the elements and wasps played in the breeze which ruffled the lace curtains. Reflections of a perfect fall sky and aging window screens created a pastel effect. Simple beauty remained for an explorer to find and savor.

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How Strong Are We?

Until facing a test, we’re probably never sure how strong we can be. Living up to expectations, acting with courage, standing under fire, surely these are challenges that require inner strength. But, sometimes on a day to day basis, self protection is not our first item on the to do list; what’s really more important is being open. Letting down our defenses is not easy. Sometimes,we may not even be aware that we’ve placed thick walls to hide who we truly are, or that we’ve established a moat to make others keep a respectful distance. Often , allowing ourselves the freedom to just be whoever and however we woke up that day is a true test of strength.The more we make that choice, our armor dissolves and we grow .


My Roller Derby Name

No one would seriously believe  or accept me as a member of a roller derby team. I wish I could say it’s because of lack of daring or not being mean enough  but, it’s really a matter of my age and physical condition ( or lack thereof). I mean, being born in New York I have my share of loud voice and get out of my face attitude. Unfortunately that’s not nearly enough so instead I go to watch. Sitting on the floor during a match takes what little guts and agility I have to move out of the way or end up at the bottom of the heap. I hope this is a partial excuse for the graininess of the photos. I think they’re more dramatic and urban this way. I have decided that what makes the skaters daring are their names,  so I’ve been working on mine. At first, the list was lengthy, but you know when you find IT. I thought it might be Shop and Drop , Death by Digital, or Digital Diva, but it has to be Reality Check. Now I need to find the right clothes.


Shelter as a Verb or Noun

As I looked at this photo, the word shelter kept coming to mind. Long outreaching branches tangled with lacy Spanish Moss touch the ground. It would almost feel like hiding behind a mother’s skirt. Open and safe at the same time ,it is a curious combination. Often the places we seek shelter close us in and while trying to protect us, they become confining.It is a difficult balance to achieve both for ourselves and for those we love. How do we offer that listening ear or tender embrace without the advice, warnings and  I told you so’s ? How do we know when the net or training wheels are no longer needed? Do we push ourselves to take chances and risk leaving our safe place, or continue to tell ourselves we aren’t quite ready yet ? Worse , do we keep our children close in fear that they will travel too far from us or realize that they don’t need us as often? Understanding that seeking shelter is a choice makes a difference. It’s a comfort to know one is available if there’s an emergency or time is needed to regroup. It’s reassuring that we can offer it to those in need,  but at it’s best shelter needs to be defined and sought by the individual.


Searching for Serenity

When the days become weeks without my noticing, it’s time to slow down.When I’m so busy doing rather than being, its time to take a breath.Imagining a silent hill top where I can stand tall, stretch my arms to the sky and listen to the whispers in the wind will settle me.Rather than wandering to find my place, I created my own from a black and white photo and a scan of a citrasolved magazine page. This will do until the real one magically appears.


Are You Listening?

Nearly hidden by nature’s overachievers, a tin roofed cabin sits silently except for an occasional creak or shudder when bullied by the wind. Its struggle to remain standing and mark its place is a testament to the  memories it protects.No longer shaded by the neighboring oak, but reminded daily of its sacrifice, the cabin dreams of the day it will once again provide shelter and warmth to a family. As unlikely as that dream may be, it remains .


The Power of a Photograph

Power of a Photograph

B.J. Silberman

Old photograph,

A form of visual poetry –

In an unrehearsed dance between black and white.

If you can listen with your eyes,

The story hides in the shadows.

Where tricks of light

Make the obvious invisible,

Give substance to memory,

And place time in the palm of your hand.


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