Wow this is actually a thing

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harmony_of_the_Spheres

I thought it was merely a literary trope... Poe:

In a theory known as the Harmony of the Spheres, Pythagoras proposed that the Sun, Moon and planets all emit their own unique hum based on their orbital revolution,^[2] and that the quality of life on Earth reflects the tenor of celestial sounds which are physically imperceptible to the human ear.^[3] Subsequently, Plato described astronomy and music as "twinned" studies of sensual recognition: astronomy for the eyes, music for the ears, and both requiring knowledge of numerical proportions

My Dad is Leaving Again

He's going back home to New Zealand, to his life there, his job and his wife and their house, under a sun that doesn't shine on me, different stars.
I clutch at the treasures he brought me, and cry.

The Harpy

the Eater of Dreams (she has none of her own) with an eternally Empty maw (give me, give mee, give meee)

I made this painting so I'd know her on sight and stay clear of her.

She's filthy, screeching, hateful, bitter.
Her Shape suggest the whittled-down hips of the modern ideal - prepubescent except for the boobs, which as everybody knows, are for attracting Men...if you haven't got a proper pair, buy yourself some. Not a bit of fat to get her through Winter on her own, not a curve to carry a child. She is the Spirit that demands we give ourselves away to become what others want. She's the Woman who goes back to a Man who doesn't love her, she's the Fool who roams the World clamoring for Attention rather than Love.

She's Empty, a negative energy that pulls you in and shits you out.

When you meet her in a barren Desert she's quite overwhelming. Another good reason to cultivate, as Carolyn Hax would say, "a well-populated Life"

(yes i Capitalize Words as randomly as William Blake; he wrote a lovely Poem for my Birth Announcement so it's an HOMAGE)

this post is dedicated to several of my Mothers, for reasons which i hope won't come back to bite me. None of them read my blog so i'm prob safe
Also, thanks to Piers Anthony for his desriptions of Harpies in all their foul-smelling glory.

Song-of-Summer Shrine

A small hanging bit of cardboard w/ newspaper clippings and a dead bug. The text reads, "God Bless our Ability to Transform". 
 I won't be hearing the cicadas much longer as it's getting chilly outside.

Windborn

this is one of those..i can never wait til the paint is dry before i photograph them

New Paintings

The Goddess!

Tree of Life (unintentional afro)

The Storyteller (not a good photo)

My Dad is an artist too

He sends me copies of ink drawings from his sketchbook. 

Sometimes i translate them into paintings...

(this background is a rather hideous pink in real life. i like it much better here.)

The Nail from Christ's Left Hand, TransSubstantiated from Iron to Wood

( i make up titles for them too)