leaves wings and other such things

human creatures

swinging with playful birds

swinging with playful birds singing chirping dancing playing.


playful birds swinging

from a wired article, 01-08-14:

orvids, the group of birds that includes ravens, crows, jays, and magpies, have quite the reputation. Ravens can use insight to solve problems, crows make and use a variety of tools, and jays can remember the past and plan for the future.

boy with singing bird on his head

These birds are also known to be particularly explorative and playful. They are very interested in novel objects, regularly manipulating things they find and even taking and stashing objects. . . .Animals learn about their physical environment by interacting with objects, and corvids may build up a knowledge database of their world through object exploration. This might help them discover new sources of food, evade different kinds of predators, or adapt to changing or new environments. [Ivo] Jacobs says corvids fit this picture because they are relatively large-brained, long-lived, adaptable, playful, and innovative.

They are known for their behavioral flexibility and interest in new things. Object caching may reflect an exploratory spirit. . . .
boy with singing bird on his

except from article by: Jacobs, I. F., Osvath, M., Osvath, H., Mioduszewska, B., von Bayern, A. M. P., and Kacelnik, A. (2013). 


Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose

my heart belongs to mommy

enough said—

blonde headed child with tee "my heart belongs to mommy"

unless you are billy collins—

The Lanyard

The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light

and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.

Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth

that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.

—Billie Collins

my heart belongs to mother

Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose

coffee coffee coffee

QCafeClerk coffee tea

QCafeClerk coffee tea biscottiQCafeClerk

Posted on by stanislawa in a hand-drawn line, toes&nose

mystery at sea

one knows not what sweet mystery about this sea,
whose gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul beneath.
  —Herman Melville

2 mermaids move through the sea with a sky filled with snails

Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose

con versation chatter chatter

seems so often that conversation is complicated.
even with the best of intentions there is confusion & miscommunication.
sound. words. symbols. chatter.


overlapping conversation of a man, woman, & bird, illustrated as glyphs, leaves & small flowers


the most important thing in communication
is hearing what isn’t said.
—Peter Drucker

Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose

the window view

the greens, reds, yellows, & violets are in bloom. i want to be outside. i am thinking about our trip
to italy a couple years ago. nature in bloom surrounding decorative architectural details, sculpture,
& murals. venice also displayed curious still lives in naves & window. so much inspiration.

another inspiration were the murals with elements of grotesque beauty.

body figure in an Italian window filled wtih blossoms















see a little more of my trip to italy.

Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose

cranewife and osprey

My crane wife arrived at my door in the moonlight

All star bright & tongue-tied
I took her in

We were married & bells rang
sweet for our wedding

And our bedding was ready when we fell in



Sound the keening bell
To see it’s painted red
Soft as fontanel
The feathers in the thread
When all I ever meant to do was to keep you
My crane wife
My crane wife
My crane wife

—The Decemberists   The Crane Wife

woman seatted with cranes & protected by an osprey



Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose


instinct & practice, nurturing & guidance, dependance & trust.

a bald eagle chick practices flapping its wings in the nest atop a tall pine. next it tries beating its wings into the wind & taking short hops above the nest. one day, a big gust of wind catches the bird’s open wings & whisks it away. the parents follow the young eagle on its first flight.
—minnesota department of natural resources

the little flegling near his mother's side


what is this connection between the fledgling & its mother?

—i miss mine.

Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose

hearts and fish and air


it is as necessary to have

air, water, plants, insects, birds, fish & mammals

as it is to have brains, hearts, lungs & stomachs
—Alan Watts





Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose

safely hidden in the earth

scavenging birds busy against a blue sky


  Nature is not a place to visit, it is home.  
—Gary Snyder

figure quiet & hidden underground

  Earth teach me to forget myself
  as melted snow forgets its life.
  Earth teach me resignation
  as the leaves which die in the fall.
  Earth teach me courage
  as the tree which stands all alone.
  Earth teach me regeneration
  as the seed which rises in the spring.
—William Alexander, A Father’s Book, 1997

2 figures hidden underground from scavenging birds

Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose, twigs&blossoms