This girls art

This about my art projects, mosaics, stained glass, collage. My love of gardening with flowers and houseplants

Sunday, December 28, 2008

sunrise at machu picchu

Posted by cconz at 10:43 PM
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About Me

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cconz
lone tree, Iowa, United States
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favorite quotes

"I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move"
-Robert Louis Stevenson

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    LAURIE BETH ZUCKERMAN'S MEMORY JUGS BOOK PDF: Memory jugs, memory jars, memory vessels, and memoryware instructions
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    A transformation...
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    Hiding in the Wisteria - mosaic stained glass window
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    haiku my heart
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    Holiday Open House...
    8 years ago
  • Laura's jewelry, mosaics, gourds, and wings of life.
    Mosaics
    8 years ago
  • Mosaic Road . . .
    Sale December 5, 2015
    9 years ago
  • A Vintage Green Life
    Memory Jug For Harry
    9 years ago
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    9 years ago
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    Welcome
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    After All This Time, a Studio of My Own
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    Please join me....
    14 years ago
  • Rescued Junk

OTHER PLACES I LIKE TO VISIT

  • a place to bark
  • all things green in idaho
  • backyard candle
  • bike iowa
  • black jungle terrariums supply
  • digging
  • fairy wings
  • fine gardening
  • glasshouse works
  • gothic rose antique
  • helen and margaret
  • http://www.magnoliapearl.com
  • kartika
  • laurie zuckerman
  • Logee
  • main street antiques
  • michael deMeng
  • mosaic diva
  • necromance
  • ohio folk art
  • organic consumers
  • pandora's parlor
  • prairie gothic
  • the city center
  • travel blog st. lucia
  • woman tour
  • your great finds

jimi

jimi
moma's little boy

pickles

pickles
daddies girl

emmie

emmie
Ready for my close-up darling

peanut

peanut
our special needs child

'smiley'

'smiley'
got any mac and cheese, please

greta

greta
"got any thing i can destroy"

Surface Hunting by Claudia Emerson

You always washed artifacts
at the sink, your back
to the room, to me, to the mud
you tracked in from whatever
neighbors's field had just been plowed.
Spearpoints, birdpoints, awls and leaf
shaped blades surfaced from the turned earth
as though from beneath some thicker
water you tried to see into.
You never tired, you told me, of the tangible
past you could admire, turn over
and over in your hand-the first
to touch it since the dead one that had
worked the stone. You linedbookshelves
and end tables with them; obsidian,
quarts, flint, they measured the hours you'd spent
with your head down, searching for others,
and also the prized hours of my own
solitude-collected, prized,
saved alongside those artifacts
that had been for so long lost.

any person with partner whose passion is arrowhead hunting, knows the meaning of this poem.

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      • sunrise at machu picchu
      • It's set!
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