spring lament

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I am lost in the March sun
Undone by the loss of hours
Dreamless shadows and thoughts untied

I have lost the ear to speak to
When fear pulls tightly at me
Rattling the heart caged in my chest

Somewhere in torn note paper and smeared black ink
I look for myself
In the folds and shredding, the stains and lines
I am there

I turn your silence over in my hands
Like dust held in shafts of day light
Thoughts heavy with lidded sleep

Too tired to ask why
Too worn to believe the words
Too alone to care.

Your absence brings dull resignation
The kind that comes when waiting for winter to end
And spring to arrive

The whisper of beginning
The rumor of new life
The faint touch of healing

I rest.

March 9, 2015

{back to the brush} low tide – 2015

 

 

I woke up early this morning, which is unusual on a Sunday for me. Painting was the first and only thing on my mind (other than needing coffee) and while I waited for the sun to come up, I did some sketches for a new painting. It has been a long time since I last picked up a paint brush and worked in any medium. About two years. Last year I did not paint at all – not that I can remember. I did some drawing, but only a couple.

I didn’t intend for today’s session to be momentous or anything special. I just woke up and wanted to paint, so I did.  It feels good to get back to the brush. It’s been too long. I have ideas for more paintings. I will share as they come alive on the paper. For now, here is what today brought. Hope you enjoy 🙂

 

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I was in the process of setting up the table and board to work on when I saw someone was thirsty, and clearly did not have the motivation to go into the kitchen where their water bowl sits. My mug of water to clean my brushes was a much better choice.

I like watching the painting emerge…  I am happy with the end result. The original photograph is below. I took this while on holiday visiting my parents in Nova Scotia in 2008. My kids and I drove down in October for Thanksgiving and stayed in Pleasantville, where my parents were living at the time.

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We were on our way back to the house from Cherryhill Beach, when we spotted the full Harvest moon rising over the mouth of the La Have River. I stopped the car and grabbed my camera to record the moment. This photo is part of a series as the moon rose and then disappeared behind the clouds.

It is definitely good to be back painting again… below is the final piece… maybe. There might be more for me to do on this. I didn’t name the boat and I probably should.

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my heart is caught in ten feet of wind

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My heart is caught in ten feet of wind
shredded in the storm
flesh pieces thrown aside
left rotting in the heavy light

I turned a corner in my absence
face to face with the dusted mirror
Walked through the glass
before i could remember

In the flying debris
I can no longer see
the coming and going
pointless surrender

Push forward on a promise
of something better
empty arms, fetid air
the stench of existing

Where is the sunlight
to kiss me aliving again?
I ask trying to fix the distance
between myself and where my heart has flown.

Leigh-Anne Fraser
November 2014

“Once in a while you have to take a break and visit yourself.”

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Day 5 “Once in a while you have to take a break and visit yourself.”

Today is the last day of the Black & White challenge. This last photograph I have decided to share is one I took while walking on Rissers beach in Nova Scotia in 2008. It was the most unique snail trail I have ever discovered, and the best thing I could do was to leave it undisturbed. Now I am taking some time off to write a new novel in the month of November

“The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.”

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Day 4 “The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.”

This photo is a few years old. My youngest has grown up now and by this time next fall will be in the midst of her first year of university. I love being a mom. My two children have taught me so much over the years. Being a single mother has not been easy, but learning early on that the three of us were a team helped us a lot. Perhaps the biggest lesson I have learned with them is that there is always time for laughter, no matter how dark it gets outside.

LA

“Peace is when time doesn’t matter as it passes by”

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Day 2 “Blackbird”

From a very early age, my children and I have gone on little adventures together to the lake. We like exploring the shoreline together and have made many trips to Port Stanley, Port Burwell, Port Glasgow, Port Bruce over the years. I took this photograph on one of our early morning trips a couple of years ago. I always feel more at peace when I am near water.

“Love is often gentle, desire always a rage”

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I was challenged on Facebook this evening by my friend Grace to post one of my black and white photos each day for the next five days. I thought I would take the challenge out a little further and share it here as well. I am not sure where this challenge originated (or where any of them do for that matter) but I am happy to be part of it.

Desire and rage, love and gentleness. They are interesting themes. This quote by Mignon McLaughlin that accompanied my challenge made me think to this photograph which I cleverly titled “orchid in sunlight”. I used to keep orchids until my daughter’s cat discovered how much he enjoyed eating the blooms. This was my last one before he got a hold of it.

I ran inside

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I ran inside
sharp edged steel
through the glass
pinned and broken
like a butterfly in a box

inside watching out
truth inversions
upside down lens
turning around
mind circus
I saw the world

no words
but you knew

I ran inside
riding shockwaves
tumbling and crying
only one stone
to press the light
to me

another fell
then another
and a crash
more shards
reflections

push me to the surface
drown me
save me
hold me still
until the storm
has no where left to run

you woke me up
with your smile
held my hand

I believed you
~

Leigh-Anne Fraser

toes dipped

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toes dipped
in the aftermath
standing water on sidewalks
dotted by rain
nature’s sheet music played out
in ripples
heart scattered
like broken tree branches
forgotten on front lawns
while sparrows scramble
to find shelter
I stick my fingers in the wound
turn and fall
somewhere the wind picks up
and I am gone
~
Leigh-Ann Fraser

combustion

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I cannot look down the lines
your words written and denied
empty spaces
You leave
Every time
silence
louder than the scream
pull the match
fire
Struck against the paper
Grit and flint
the moment bursts
I cannot breathe
Turned inside out
Staring at the darkening sky
and still you have the nerve
to say that I am not myself
Combustion.

~

Leigh-Anne Fraser