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Heal Me and I Shall Be Healed

Welcome to #firstthursdays; home of the new. From artwork to poetry to whatever the new may be. I am also exploring ways to have fun and make it easy to travel the rabbit holes of Crooked Little Flower. You will start noticing the addition of multiple categories; M-F each have their own particular theme and labeled according to poetry, figure, portrait, you get the idea. Allowing you to explore as you wish; according to your mood, needs, and desires. I have added a tag cloud at the bottom of the site; here you can explore further; the abstract portrait perhaps, or prose poetry versus haiku. Choose your own adventures!

Today, I also want to introduce you to some new available pieces. I am very excited. These are the first finished digital etchings. It feels good to be wearing my printmaker hat again. Many of you already know, I was a master intaglio printmaker. I love the copper plate and all it does with ink and paper.

I would throw my plates on the ground within my pathway of etching and pulling prints as I loved the conversation of unanticipated mark-making; the floor, my feet, and the plates. I used hardground, drypoint, and carborundum predominately.

Today, instead of copper and acid bathes, my Surface Book and jpeg is my plate. Sketchable, Rebelle 3, and Adobe become my grounds. Paper and ink are still paper and ink.

I am simultaneously working on two related series. I am working with Breath, and I am working once again with Jeremiah, “Heal me and I shall be healed. . . .” Portraits and figures are emerging.

Here are the first five. They are editions of 10, signed, numbered, and the jpeg plate retired.

Read the recent interview here

paint much love always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

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Sketching Breath

Sketching Breath Connie Karleta Sales

Slight wind
leaves are turning, why?
A smile is a blessing to a
loose heart
losing heart.

Colorless soft silence;
Feels as though my chest is caving in.

Gravity hit me.

light harmony
tinker of notes
have nothing
have it all.


transient in
her harmony;

notes about everything.


Sketching Breath, digital drawing, 11 x 8 1/2 in (27.94 x 21.59 cm)
from series in progress, and so I shall be, reflections with Jeremiah,

A single poem; Three poems; dance in the togetherness of love.
My Father , Son, Holy Ghost.

Light of my Christ, Light of universal light; beyond the self of my body. Of Buddha, of you; of other; of we. Daily.

How do you read the words above? Does it change in a day, each hour? This is how my life lives forward. A dance of the flow, of moment unknown; of smiles and tears, miles and rest.


I lose heart, and I loose my heart. Never a static beat. I breathe in and breathe out. I move and I rest. Does it matter where I go? Does it matter who I am?

I have been drawing next to Jeremiah again. I just love him and all that he is and is not. “Heal me and I shall be healed.” he says. “Save me and I shall be saved.” “for You are my praise.”

That Love within you, the You within you; that dances in the good and the hard. The Buddha’s Breath “. . . and I shall be. . . “

Is it enough? to know I am safe; safe to be who I am.

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little flower

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Violet is Her Silhouette

How slow the Spring
And so am I.

Violets danced
my weekend air;

While forests bare,
I soaked.

Depression and anxiety go with this journey. Sneaky she creeps like mist and settles herself as crystalline fog. It is easy to get caught up within her.

Easy to be embarrassed.

What is she really? She is fear; hurt, anger, frustration. She is the other of presence. She is the un-real.

What do I do when she blankets my body and soul? Action. The answer for me is action. I could sit within her and become very comfortable in such isolations. Or, I don’t.

It is a decision; nothing more and nothing less.

It has been an unusual winter, and my road at my house in poor shape. Mud, ruts, do not play well with my wheels. And, battling the cold/infection, fatigue, among other things, I fell into her.

I made a decision. Seeing where I am, I made a different choice. Starts with getting up and getting out. air, land, sky, beauty; always heals the soul.

paint much love, always
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

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Slender Wisp

Billowy slenders wisp toward the sun;
fingerlings of sky, teach me;

of my frosted thoughts
notions of vision-dreamer unattained;

frustration’s mark,
cold and dark
am I.

Winter slenders,
depth filled strength
flexing in whisper’s breath;
tickling the sun,
filtering through frozen mist;
living, you are.

Teach me,
in the marrow of your alive,
resting in your stillness
my exhaustions caressed;
revived into the gasping
waters; soaking me whole.


Slender Wisp, digital drawing, 10 x 8 in (22.86 x 17.78cm)

This week I expended a lot of mental and emotional energies. I did call to ensure the right bags were shipped, and no, they were not. In fact, I was told there was no record of my call. I was questioned whether I really spoke to a supervisor.

She repeats that there is not proper documentation, and without a doctor’s prescription, they will not send the bags. I volley back asking where did it go? The company you bought out had it, your company assured Blue Ridge all the information transfers. What happened?

I can’t speak to that ma’am
You need a doctors orders for the flush bags.

I state clearly my intention to have Blue Ridge, (which Lin Care now owns) brings bags, and will not be charged. This is not my fault as you are implying. Without the right supplies, I am at risk to be hospitalized, and I will not risk my life. Without proper nutrition and hydration, I will become at the least weak and ill, and at worst, I will die. I have been using the bags with flush for a year now.

At this point, I am tired. my voice is getting weaker, and she is having some trouble understanding me. After all is said and done, my husband called the doctor. Over the course of a couple of days the prescription was faxed multiple times. Lin Care stated to my doctor’s office it can take up to 48 hours to receive the fax. I will call again, giving them their stated time, to ensure it was received. When I am better rested I will write a formal complaint. I am filing not just with the company, also the BBB, and my states Attorney General. We will call everyday until it is resolved if we have too.

In word and image is how I reset. I empty my soul until I feel the warmth of love and safety once again. I called out for help, and the winter-slender trees passing through the sunlight answered.

Stress is a trigger for disease. It exacerbates exhaustion and fatigue. Couple it with the cold/infection I have been battling for over a month now, and I am spent. I am mentally and physically tired. I am okay though.

I have support. I have practice and skills within my own self too. My quality of life is profound. Yes, I can get lost in moments of sheer “cabin-feverness”. The I want out, now! Not another moment! I am done!

This is normal. Who doesn’t. I get to look around at my loved ones. I get to pause, and see beauty. Seeing the human on the other end of the phone line; she is following her job. She has bills to pay; she is beautiful. The situation is not beautiful; she did not invent it; she is in the middle of it just like me.

My family and friends are in the middle of it, just like me. We all have are experiences that exhaust us. Life never promises easy. What I know is life is no less beautiful, and I get to decide how I see. I get to experience and acknowledge a situation for what it is. unacceptably ugly.

I also get to decided how I respond. And that is a most wonderous choice no one can take away. I choose both honesty and happyness.

paint much love always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

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and, please don’t forget share. My work is meant to be shared. Thank you so much! CKS

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Breathing Through Fear

Fear of my Hunger
of helplessness soaking your deafness.
not your fault; not mine; so whose?

left there I am nowhere.

The leaves are rustling,
twinkling soft winks through my window;
it is a smile pausing
a Moment of none.


Breathing through Fear, digital drawing, 10 x 8in (22.86 x 17.78cm)

I rely on my feeding tube for nutrition and sustenance. My stomach does not empty fast enough for bolus feeds, and swallowing ability is limited. Nutritionally balanced formula and water are slowly dripped via a feeding pump 24/7.

My formula and supplies are delivered monthly. At the end of December the company delivered a weeks worth of formula and supplies, and stated the rest will be shipped. It was then they informed us they were bought out by another company. New company drop ships everything.

That was on a Friday. Come Wednesday, no formula and no supplies. I call to make sure everything will arrive by Friday. This is when my local company and I learned that, no, my account was not set up; my information as a patient was not transferred over in the buy out.

My local company and I get on the phone with this new company. I am told they are waiting on my chart, and there is noone to contact to expedite. I must wait.

So, my formula and supplies are not going to arrive by Friday.
“I understand it must be frustrating, ma’am.”

Um, I rely on this for my nutrition and sustenance. Running out is detrimental. Frustrating does not describe how I feel. Eventually resolution did happen. I spent until yesterday without. I dealt with not having enough.

It does not end there. They sent the wrong bags. I call. I am told they will correct this but will not be able to ship the right bags until next month. NO. This is not possible. I have a few extra but you must fix this and send them. I shut down the initial attempt to blame everyone but their company with the firm broken record technique. The correct bags are being sent. I will call today to ensure it is done.

I was Hungry, Angry, Lonely, and Tired as the adage goes. And I did what the adage says to do – HALT.

My personality is such, today, I speak up. I am a squeaky wheel. My family squeaks on my behalf. I can remember when this was not the case. I remember myself, when I was terrified and quiet to my own detriment.

Any small opposition, I shut down; sometimes hiding in my closet; doubting my own reality; finding new ways to call myself stupid.

Making it okay to be hungry; I don’t deserve to meet my needs. Selfish to ask and feeling guilty over feeling scared; when frustration does not describe the situation.

These feelings of panic and anxiety are familiar. I feel small and humiliated; making hurt normal and making a wrong; right. A mix of inexcusable behavior, livable.

My natural inclination is to write, to doodle, to draw until it leaves; until I feel safe again; until I am able to look up and say, okay, its gonna be okay Connie.

The only difference today is having a few more techniques in materials and facility. I have a greater sense of self. Response versus desperation.

This week, I chose to breath into the fear. With this, I smile into the hunger. I sit with anger. and we dance, and the dance is genuine, life lives full, and I stay in view. Occupying the space I do. My needs; met.

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

Are you subscribed to Crooked Little Flower? If not, please join us!

Subscribe to Blog via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

and, please don’t forget share. My work is meant to be shared. Thank you so much! CKS