Two years ago today, my Mama left her human vessel. We get triggered by such things like dates, places, smells, and other traces of evidence and memory that are significant to the LOVE and sorrow that are two sides of the same brilliant coin that I call my heart. I didn't know what to do with myself so I am spending it by my self. I found my way into a Buddhist temple for a calligraphy class taught by a Buddhist monk and a fellow student, Chi, who told me how doing this practice clears her mind and heart. I told her I came for the same reasons. So what clarity came from this? To dance with my brush, to be light in my strokes and push down only when it is necessary to be bold. That how I sit in my body and how I hold the brush is more telling of how I will create my strokes then the stroke itself...
“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.”