Rona on Grey, Pumice Stone

The pumice stone breaking brought memories…

Pumice stones last forever… not. Mine broke Sunday, upsetting because I can’t just go shop!  A none-death issue, but the older you get the more you NEED pumice stones. Mom used to put things like this in our Xmas stockings, even long after we stopped giving presents (too $$$.) Stockings showed how we knew each other, so they’d be filled with useful or silly stuff.

I was thinking all this and wondered if she’d given Mitchell one too, a decade ago!


This is the kind of memory that comes to me unbidden,
memories of family no longer present.

My mom was a mix a of good and very screwed up.
Possibly we all are, though she has a larcenous side that most don’t have.
But the good in her was better than many others in my family.
She remembered her loved ones, and I have a box of notes
and memories of never getting a bad gift that wasn’t just right for me.
That takes thoughtfulness, and she had that.

Plus she introduced Mitchell to me,
the best gift ever given.

I also am having nightmares — I assume everyone who has a brain
and can remember a dream is having them.
Death death death, more than lack.
It isn’t good reading, but there is a kernel of interest in this dream for me.
Woobie was my mom’s cockatoo… he had a mean streak,
raised initially by a very bad foster parent,
and my mom made it worse as she never scolded him.
In the dream, he is hit by a car, and really, it should have killed him.  It didn’t.
I’ve thought a lot about this dream, and think it has to be with
the qualities of tenaciousness and street-smarts saving us…
And the obvious, the world is filled with death and threats of death.

On a side note, this is a lovely new color ink for me, Blackstone’s Red Cashmere.
have a few of their inks, nice inks… out os AU.

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About dkatiepowellart

hollywood baby turned beach gurl turned steel&glass city gurl turned cowgurl turned herb gurl turned green city gurl. . . artist writer photographer. . . cat lover but misses our big dogs, gone to heaven. . . buddhist and interested in the study of spiritual traditions. . . foodie, organic, lover of all things mik, partner in conservation business mpfconservation, consummate blogger, making a dream happen, insomniac who is either reading buddhist teachings or not-so-bloody mysteries or autobio journal thangs early in the morning when i can't sleep
This entry was posted in art journal, creativity, drawing, journal, loss, memory, painting, pen & ink, process, ritual, sketchbook, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Rona on Grey, Pumice Stone

  1. loisajay says:

    Red Cashmere….whoever thought of that name…oh, I love it.


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