PhoenixjpgThis drawing, like all drawings, came from a blank piece of paper, very much like how all of our emotions, creativity, and thoughts rise up from a blank, new, empty, fresh unknown place.

I was listening to an audio recording of the consciousness-expanding ideas that come from a teacher I love named Bashar.  My eyes and fingers enjoyed the hand-made paper, so they chose it.

Immersed in an expanded vision of humanity, and of myself, I picked up a piece of the rustic and rust-colored chalk-like pigment that I had bought at the Rembrandt house in Amsterdam.  It was the same stuff the Master himself used, they said; a thought that made magical the act of drawing with it.

As I listened and drew, I felt who I am and where I am going. A birdlike shape appeared, and as the blank paper ripened with detail and color, the bird began to express that expansion, that potential for flight.

At times, thoughts of my son were on my mind and heart.  Last night we were packing boxes of kitchen utensils, pots and pans, and more things he had never needed, but now these things will find a new home as he moves into his next phase of life…his own apartment.

Yet, living together and not living together are not new ideas for our family. We had years of each, alternating in a consistent pattern.  Our son lived with us for eight years, then did not for eight years, then lived with us again now for eight years, and at age twenty-four, he is taking flight.  I did not actually think of the phrase “empty nest” until after the drawing of the bird, but somehow, my hand and my brain had known what to do.

While enjoying the sight of the colors and shapes unfolding on the handmade paper, I thought of how amazing my son is, how deep and unique he is in the way he thinks and feels. And how rare it is that he owns his own property in the city with tenants on the bottom floor, and how he and his best friend, like a brother since age nine, will now make their home on the top two floors of that building.

As the bird drawing became saturated with detail, I realized I wanted him to have it in his next phase of life.  I saw a bird, but when I texted the picture to him, his reply read the phoenix.

The bird-now-phoenix became my inspiration to write.  Such is the way of the flow.

The Phoenix,

that which rises out of the ash of the old,

that state of being that exists forever and always.

A line drawn, a dot of color, and the potential is activated.

It change the blankness into something; we may not know what.

The potential fills in, fleshes out, plumps up, becomes something.  Becomes what it is.

Hold it out away from you and survey it.

Look deeply and closely and love it.

Give it away and be happy for it.

Think of it and be inspired by it.

The Phoenix,

that state of being that exists forever and always as potential,




never-ending, ever cycling, ever rising out of the ashes,

ever beginning again.

phoenix pale - Version 2

Shakta 10/31/15