These are the beautifully adorned hands of my ‘sister’ of exuberant emotions, @alexcastroferreira7770 She takes me to magical places and I am grateful. In a couple days I’ll be traveling to Romania where Alex is taking me next.
~ Strong wombs..places of incubation and creation ~ My love and good wishes to all mothers of all kinds, today and in all the days Mothers of agonies and utter joys Of disappearances and staying powers My love to all mother lovers To all mothers
She is free in her wildness, she is a wanderess, a drop of free water. She knows nothing of borders and cares nothing for rules or customs. ‘Time’ for her isn’t something to fight against. Her life flows clean, with passion, like fr
He was carrying in his heart what remained of his childhood what remained of his days what remained of his city what remained of his name what remained of you. ~ Mohammed Moussa
This is where I am going next, will you come with me? 🌸🙌🏻🌸 @alexcastroferreira7770 @leighannalight @pnwas @mija.matriz @jonlabrousse @holddear @michellefletcheratelier
Happy Birthday my love, my Sunshine, my Angel, my Maya. Remember 10 years ago when you just turned 18 and you sent me this picture while I was away in Europe? Remember that you said: Remember, Mama, that you said I can get a tattoo when I am 18? We
New on Substack this morning, to read and listen to: The Concept of Graduation orlyavineri.substack.com
So new and mesmerizing! It’s a 12 day ‘journey of place, rhythm, and creative unfolding’ as Michelle Fletcher @michellefletcheratelier calls it so beautifully. In it my 4-day workshop. Words and images interplay. Both belong front
Grief is so often about the pages, the chapters, the books we feel we wont get to write, make, or live in our lifetime. The unrealizable skyscrapers. Always teasing, one horizon away. And yet, we owe it to our very particular and intimate griefs t
If you are called to participate in one of my mixed media workshops and retreats in the US or abroad, please consider subscribing to my newsletter to receive information from time to time. orlyavineri.com/newsletter And here, just some of my good ol
She was so delicate that, while we sat beneath the Linden branches, a leaf would fall and drift down and touch her skin, and it would leave a bruise. So as we sat in the afternoon hour, beneath that fragrant Linden bower, I had to chase all of the le
Dead or alive, no one survives a war. Not one that occurs while standing on a small kitchen floor, nor in a city, bombed, flattened to the ground.
. . ~ Birth Days ~ Once Grief stops wishing me ‘Sweet Dreams’ every night, stops being morning’s reliable alarm, stops becoming each day’s Sunshine, Sweetheart, Lover, what will become of me? What will I make? What will I w
Images from the past appear lately…to amuse. This is the first poster I designed 18 years ago to advertise my newly invented job. I’ve decided I’d become a teacher of Art Journaling. I would start to ‘gather’ around wi
. . Sorting out Ripe Olives from Smoke Grays Square baskets from darling nests Soft tissues from edgy bones Paper piles from sturdy tabletops Intimate layers from far horizons Sorting out, burning desires, from regular ones.
Being ‘on the way there’ means everything that is freedom. Possibility. ‘Getting there at last’, that’s a whole other thing. More, of a kind of loss, than of anything else.
~Truth~ ‘With cities, it is as with dreams: everything imaginable can be dreamed, but even the most unexpected dream is a rebus that conceals a desire or, its reverse, a fear. Cities, like dreams, are made of desires and fears, even if the thr