“come in! the pot’s on.
sit down and tell me a sea story.”
words from my childhood. from my father.
everyone who came to the door as a friend or future friend . . .
that was his greeting.
and true enough. he and my mother always seemed to “have the pot on.”
today i am going to invite you in. you may have your drink of choice though!
not everybody is a coffee hound.
as a matter of fact the star of this post is not. and she lives in the most
coffee lovin’est place in this country!
but. don’t want to get ahead of myself.
here’s the sea story i want to tell you.
a little girl named elizabeth grew up in the northeast country.
where winters are long and cold and most everybody has a sauna.
one terrible day . . . i don’t think any could comprehend how terrible ~
the little girl elizabeth was burned by the boiling hot water in the sauna.
just a wee little child she was.
not her face. thank heaven. but all her body.
can you even imagine it?
the excruciating months and months and months
of overcoming agony and the slow process of healing body and mind.
because fear dwells in the mind. and is as bad as any burn.
because the fear stays. along with the scars.
for some reason after that . . . she was expected to sit in the sauna again.
a stoic way of building courage perhaps. because her parents are good strong people.
they would never intentionally cause her anguish.
but the little elizabeth sat there trembling inside with fear. always.
and she kept it to herself.
want me to top it up for you?
this fascinating sea story is just beginning.
and you don’t want to miss it.
little brave elizabeth grew up to become an engineer. a good one.
she loved math. still does. and soon found herself working long long hours.
a cubicle. endless hours. endless work of the engineer.
going home too tired to think anymore. much less create.
she now lived all the way across the country.
the pacific northwest.
the magical land of pine forests and mists and swirling fogs that hold the mystery
of man himself.
and the sea. the crystal sea where dolphins and sea otters and seals share secrets.
and the whale speaks.
it took courage to move so far from home.
but in this elizabeth’s heart is a spirit of adventure.
she is not just anybody.
she is elizabeth.
if i ever had a daughter i would have wanted her to be like this girl.
i don’t know how i found her really. other than i have always known this secret . . .
that trees can talk. they only talk to those who know they talk.
and elizabeth is a fellow tree talker.
i think those of us who believe that just manage to find each other.
she lives at the edge of a forest.
in a small village near her beloved portland in oregon.
can you smell the freshness of the pine forest in this picture?
the sweet pungent pine after the rain.
the glistening drops falling . . .
this is her picture. she makes pictures that engage all the senses.
and this is one of my favorites.
as it turns out . . .
elizabeth is not an engineer at all.
she was a very successful one. once. but before it was too late . . .
she awoke to realize that it was killing her soul.
it turns out that her soul is beautiful.
i talk about myself as ‘the little monk in a wind torn robe’
well. i’m a sham. i aspire to that. but i’m a sham.
elizabeth is the real thing.
there are people in this world who were born to be artists.
it simply flows from them. and if they’ve endured what she did
and so many of them do endure some kind of pain or torment in their lives
it simply seems to make them better.
listen to elizabeth. these are her words.
“hush. can you hear your soul singing?
wait for it..
and when you hear the music
follow it wherever it may lead.”
it lead her here
a blue sea at the dawn of endless possibilities.
her room mate is silver. he is like silk. and he has amber blue eyes.
he is her favorite subject. he doesn’t like it. he is not a publicity hound.
he is atlas.
in her words
” i love him times a million billon and seventy three forty seven.”
he is her forever puppy.
he speaks with his amber eyes.
they are inseparable.
atlas in flight
and atlas waiting for a bedtime story.
you haven’t heard one of elizabeth’s stories?
they’re never too long. they’re always just long enough.
very important when telling a story.
something i could learn from her! LOL.
you may have children’s books in your home.
you may love children’s books as i do.
i own many of them because i simply love them.
but you have nothing ~ until you have one of elizabeth’s stories.
they are a quirky perfection.
they make you smile. and laugh. and just . . . well . . .
they make you feel good!
when you’re through reading the rest of the post . . .
come back here if you want to go directly to her story section
she once described herself as
the girl with the kaleidoscope eyes.
she is that.
and she is enchanting.
she takes pictures of light itself.
all the pictures you see here
except for the coffee pot and cup of coffee . . .
they are all elizabeth’s.
she believes in ‘real mail.’
the joy of opening an envelope addressed to YOU!
not a bill. not circular junk. but a card that is beautifully made.
i keep a supply of her beautiful photographic cards.
they are original art on the finest parchment paper with the olde world
torn beveled edge. and parchment envelopes. elegance personified.
you won’t find them with the trite phrases in the stores.
you order them from elizabeth.
you go to your mailbox and there await tiny pieces of art.
some i have simply kept to view again and again.
when you do write upon them and send them to special people . . .
your writing takes on almost a look of fine calligraphy to match the fineness of the paper!
it’s magical. but it really does.
it takes me to the era of jane austen. when people knew the importance of messages.
warm messages with the feel of the human about them. the art. the grace.
a quote from her blog . . .
“it’s not what you look at that matters. it’s what you see.”
~ henry david Thoreau
and elizabeth sees light.
perfect morning light i think.
delicate. fleeting. caught.
the color of joy. radiance.
what are you doing standing there laughing in the tulips!
get out of there silly puppy.
no kitties to be found.
atlas loves kitties. and lives for the day he has his own.
this is elizabeth’s blog.
she makes her living now with her little business
of sharing beauty and love.
and she is a reiki master.
that is fascinating in itself. and i attest that it works.
a gentle ancient art. probably as old as time. lost. then
rediscovered many many years ago. and found just in time i would say.
just in time for our busy harrowing lives.
for people who simply don’t know how to stop.
she needs little in the way of material goods.
but she needs to live. as we all do.
and supporting artists among us is a privilege to me.
and always will be.
these young artists are priceless to us.
they give the world hope.
without them this world would be even an uglier place
than man tries to make it.
thank goodness for them!
they remind us of the higher calling to appreciate the beauty around us.
the elizabeths know that the important things in life
are beauty. and love. and peace. and happiness.
and just possibly seeing
with “kaleidoscope eyes.”
i hope you visit her blog. tell her you came from the peanut.
browse through the wonderful archives on her blog.
give yourself time to linger and soak up a pure heart.
it will do you a world of good.
browse in her little shoppe of beauty.
find the cards you’d like to delight your friends with as a surprise in the mail.
surprise a favorite child or grandchild with her remarkable stories.
and meet the star of the show . . .
as i mentioned above . . . elizabeth is a reiki master.
if you don’t know about it. you can discover it on her blog.
if you do know about it… rest assured you are held in the healing thoughts of
one who is pure love. and humility.
and humor. and beauty.
and it works. i am proof.
what more could we ask?
can you smell the cool violet hues of the lavender?
i’m trying to meditate here lady. enough with the camera.
yes. her land of ancient forests and sea mist
and here she is.
meet my dear friend elizabeth.
the famous silver puppy who loves elizabeth and kitties and stories at bedtime
and walks on the beach and in the forests
and who is loved
” times a million billion and seventy three forty seven! “
hear the birds? the sea?
there is healing here.
and elizabeth knows.
did i tell you it’s her belief that there are never enough
pickles on a sandwich?
NO. THERE ARE NOT!
and one of her dreams is to have a little picklewich shoppe one day.
she could display her art. and serve picklewiches
and tell her enchanting stories . . .
and it would just be wonderful.
whether sunny days
time to call it a day . . .
we love your pictures elizabeth.
little engineer turned artist with a monk’s soul.
you fill this world with love and beauty.
there needs to be more and more and more like you.
no more pictures.
til soon old bean!
oh . . .
please . . .
just one last smell of that fresh clean pine
a reminder only from me . . .
all of the beautiful pictures here are elizabeth’s. taken by her.
except for the two of atlas and her of course! and the coffee pot and coffee cup . . .
so . . . please be kind and don’t use without her permission. thank you!