There’s always cross over… and here is a story I wrote and posted a few minutes ago at my blog, Buddy Breathing. Enjoy. I do believe Spring is poking its head out. Oh how I long for it to come and stay for awhile.
Lesley-Anne Evans
Get yer tickets gals!!!
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Monday, January 27, 2014, I’ll be stepping up to the mic at Purple Vine Club, to give a talk on living a creative life. And, I’ll be reading my lions share of poetry along with some photographic images that invite introspection and a calm consideration of making the most of every moment we are given.
This event is brought to you by Cyndee Sapiano, passionate leader of the Purple Vine Club, and local go getter. Cyndee is a Coach and Family Educator, Financial Consultant and Investment Advisor. Cyndee invited me to speak.
You’ll also be treated to the unique creative insights of Carrie Harper, talented mixed media visual artist and owner of the heART School, Kelowna. Carrie is a student of all things Art and Spirituality.
And there will be snacks.
Yep, that’s how it will be and so much better if you come out.
Here’s the link to register and for tickets. Only until Sunday at 5 pm. It’s a good deal for a fun couple of hours of network connections, nosh for the body and the spirit.
Come on out. Bring a friend. I’ll be there!
Lesley-Anne
Resting…
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What a year.
Installing poems @ Los Angeles, Port Townsend, Kelowna, Penticton, and Vancouver.
Performing poetry on the streets, in cafes, libraries, churches, and in homes.
Writing poetry and submitting and having some published in literary mags and elsewhere.
Stretching and growing through all of the above.
Yes, a very good year. I am exponentially blessed.
And now I shall rest until the New Year. And I shall bask in the good company of family and friends. And I shall be glad.
For words that pop up and expand in 2014,
Lesley-Anne, SDG
My love language is bread and butter…
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This letter is meant as a reminder, first to me, then to anyone like me, who questions the validity and impact of their life purpose. Choosing the poets way is not often in the spotlight, but rather in half light and shadow. Yet it brings me alive, somehow I know I’m about what I should be about, and God is gracious enough to offer me bread crumbs along the way that affirm my heading. Not everyday, but often, and just when I’m wondering why I’m bothering, someone shows up, says something, confirms the way for me.
Here’s a note for those other days;
Dear Lesley-Anne, dear one,
So don’t be discouraged. You may not be the up front mass appeal type. Don’t feel insignificant. Every thing you do, counts. You have to press in to what you know, do what you have been given to do, with passion, just do it. While you waste time and look at others and tally how many they have impacted, instead just say, good for them. And continue to do what you know YOU are to DO. Walk the dog. Send the email. Say hello. Say thank you. Bake the cookies. Help the helpless. Smile. Hug. Listen. Speak. Take a photo. Paint something. Write something. Post something. Sew something. Ask God to increase your opportunity, your creativity, your energy, your love. Nothing, no NOTHING is wasted.
Live like you believe what you have to do counts. Because it does. Nobody else is going to convince you of this. You have to tell yourself. There may be affirmations from time to time, there may be verses in the Good Book that buoy your spirits and set you going, but for the most part, you have to get going.
Sometimes, when you feel what you are doing counts for nothing (no matter how hard you try to not feel this way), you will be given a gift of knowing it does matter, to someone. Someone will tell you so. Be grateful, be oh so grateful to hear. Tuck these words away for the days you aren’t certain. Because the days will come.
Believe anyway. Every life you touch matters.
SDG
p.s. Yesterday I received a loaf of bread. A lovely homemade, salt topped rye dropped off at my door by a neighbour in thanks for my neighbourhood illumination installation ~ and the poem that touched her heart. Unexpected joy, my love language happens to be bread. How did she know this, I wonder? So I slice off a big chunk, butter it, taste the joy of the moment, the love.
And in the end, love is all that matters,
Lesley-Anne
Fall fav’s…
With cold breezes blowing and snow making its way down the mountains around our valley, I thought I’d take a look back to some of the Pop-Up-Poetry installs this fall.
And I have to say my experience of hanging poems like little pieces of laundry on lines between golden grapevines and flaming Burningbush was a highlight, the words paper white against sky blue, and the man with the dog pausing, stopping to read, the dog waiting.
Sharing my fav’s in photos…
pop-up-poetry 