Posted on Leave a comment

in her soul, there is stillness

joyous praise,
stirs humming
weaving Light.

this light
a thing done,
we shield,
we run.

We rest Your effort;
awhile we practice.
in stillness we rise;
abundant,
a thing done.

living the movement
shed free I AM!
emergent — doing as being;

Activation-Synthesis
Theory of Dreams

CKS

Activation-synthesis theory is a neurobiological explanation for the genesis of dreams first proposed in the late 1970s by J. Allan Hobson and Robert McCarley. According to their theory, dreams are what result when the cerebral cortex attempts to make sense of (or synthesize) the neural activity that is taking place in lower, less-advanced portions of the brain, like the brain stem.

The lower-lying structures of the brain are primarily involved in biological functioning necessary for survival and reproduction, while the cerebral cortex is responsible for more advanced activity, such as thought development and processing. (from Lesson transcript, Chapter 4, Lesson 7, instructor Chris Clause, Activation-Synthesis Theory of Dreams: Definition & Explanation)

_______________________________________

This time of year the days grow longer, and within my spiritual practice, I enter Lent, a time when we bury the Hallelujah. In action, we do not sing or use this word in daily life.

Lent, on the Christian Liturgical calendar, are 40 days mirroring the 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness, before he began his ministry. Hallelujah is a word of praise in moment come, and Lent, moment become-ing.

Over the years of moving through this liturgical calendar of practice, seasons have evolved for me. Lent, used to be suffering, denial in a very physical sense. I fasted. I gave up physical things like chocolate. Things which made me feel apart of even though I really didn’t have much of a clue. But I did feel present with. while simultaneously still wrapping myself in the comforts of my fears; extreme shyness as a means of survival.

More and more my heart moves into stepping back and really asking, does this help me draw closer in relationship? to the God of my understanding, allowing the Light of Christ to move through me. Drawing me into physical relationship with you. people. Earth. Community. What does that look like?

I ask, where am I still piling over, creating false shyness? not allowing the stir humming; the doing being?

______________________________

Today, on the eve of the next 40 days, I know where I run. I shield the desires of my heart within old tapes telling me i can’t. in very loud shapes and forms.

These voices sing into me; they pound with fists made of belts, telling me the how of being in relationship, is vain and narcissistic. I stand still in the wilderness of the between; unable to leave my hearts desire, simultaneously burying it in playing dumb and incapable and quiet.

________________________

This year, I am called to practice. I am called to give up this imposed stillness. My basic needs of survival are met today. I actively ask for help and do what I am able to meet my needs. My higher functioning is still working that out. to trust; myself and you.

I am responsible to you. I am again naked before you. letting go more of that onion as the saying goes. My go to answer is stating my desire and then negating it with “i don’t know what that looks like. . . “

I do know. My work in art and poetry is life living and sharing; struggling strong; flawed and imperfectly perfect.

Art and poetry befriended me as a little girl, and kept that stir humming inside my heart, and I lived. Today, I live well. I want you to have that kind of friendship too. In relationship within the creative process.

This year, I walk with my very old friend; rest belts of old tapes. thank you for your service. thank you for having tea with me. I know you helped me get to today. You helped me grow roots. Lets grow deeper in our dreams.

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

*feature image – in her soul there is stillness within the hours,
digital drawing, 4″ x 4″ ink, paper on wood, available

Posted on Leave a comment

She Walks, Dreaming in Love

These drawings, such an important part of dreaming forward.
Series, She Walks, Dreaming in Love

Often, when I dream, I am walking; dancing in the meadows in the fields, with sunflowers and lilies, most often. Recently, when I dream, I have full use of my hands and am a carpenter.

These dreams are so vivid, I sometimes wake up disoriented as my actual reality of limited use of my arms and hands, and no use of my legs abruptly makes itself aware.

Walking dreams, and dancing, began since i first became severely ill in 2015, and was initialized paralyzed with this disease. I learned this is very normal within paralysis community.

At first, I would cry, be confused, frustrated. Deep sighs of despair as I lie there in bed. I found it backwards. Dreaming was real, and waking was the nightmare.

To be honest, it was the measure of the stress and unknown at the time. Our world, mine and my family’s world was shaken. I was alive, and making progress in physical and occupational therapy. I was hopeful, and I needed cheerleaders to help me in this.

There were so many unknowns. How do you digest hearing “if your alive in 5 years, most likely will be blind and wheelchair bound.” then move into “well, we don’t know, and we don’t have the ability to help you.”

Feeling very alone in moments like these:

2016, Idaho. I am struggling in Occupational therapy. My therapist does a few evaluation tests on my arms/hands and finds my strength and grip strength has decreased.

She sends her recommendations to my primary care physician, who then sends it on to the neurologist. I am now sitting in the neurologists office with my sister in law at my side.

He says “The rehabilitation hospital does that.”

I say, apparently not because my occupational therapist sent it to my primary who sent it to you because she said you do it.”

“No, they do it.”

The OT’s recommendations and concerns went into what I call the Bermuda triangle of passing the buck into never-land of no action.

Now, look at this:

2017, North Carolina. I have been in physical therapy for a little while, mainly learning wheelchair skills, and learning to use the electronic stimulation device on the various muscle groups to help them fire and in turn help with muscle tone etc. Then things turned from these skills to re-evaluations, and then trunk control, and then the day came when my PT compassionately said that he ethically could not continue because PT was doing more harm than good. My body was clearly struggling and he was calling my doctor.

He scheduled me for two more visits; one to finish the final muscle groups with the EMS machine, and the second to teach my family how to help assist me in transferring from place to place.

That first last appointment came. My husband was with me, and I was not well. My PT just immediately taught my husband full assist transferring and even practiced it with our car. and told my husband, I am immediately calling her doctors.

Yes, and that is how 2017 began as I know it today. Only this time, doctors, nurses, home health, speech therapist, PT, OT, medical social worker; they all came on board,

and no one shrugged their shoulders and left us alone.

My family and I were hugged, were cared for, were taught, were provided for. We were provided with the physical, mental, and emotional tools to grieve, to be, to learn, to practice, and to become.

Now, I am a fighter, I am a glass-full kind of girl. Even in Idaho I found those moments. My PT’s and OT’s were amazing. I love them today, and hope I get to talk to them again. It is with that help, that love.

If you want to hear about one of those moments you can listen here:
https://soundcloud.com/radioboise/stray-theatre-december-24-2017-story-story-nights-dazed-and-confused-rocked-and-rolling-stories

So, what does it mean when I say, She Walks, dreaming in love?

Today, I enjoy those walking dreams. They are magical. I wake up in a smile and not tears. My limitations are everything and nothing simultaneously.

It is not easy. Don’t get me wrong – There is nothing about this that is easy. For my family, and for myself.

Life does continue. It does ease as we move through and adapt. Little by little equipment and routine happen.

We get to practice patience, and delayed gratification.

We get to greet the sun, and say hello to the moon. We get to walkabout in love, no matter what it looks like. My wheelchair walks for me, my computer talks for me. How cool is that.

and I am never out of reality, I am always dancing in the fields with the sunflowers and lilies; with dandelions wisping through my hair, caressing my cheeks.

These are what these drawings are. They are the dance of love, the dance of choice, and power. They are the dance of grief, the dance of the unknown.

They are my dreams. They are the simultaneous illness and life of my body.

They are the moments of never being alone.

They are the dance of dignity; created with all the limitations of this body. braces and Velcro, pillows and positioning belts, whatever it takes to dance.

She Walks, Dreaming in Love VI, 30 x 22 inch, paper, ink, graphite on paper, 2018
She Walks, Dreaming in Love II, 30 x 22 inch, paper, ink, graphite on paper, 2018
She Walks, Dreaming in Love I, 30 x 22 inch, paper, ink, graphite on paper, 2018

available through dk Gallery

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

Don’t miss a thing!
Art – Poetry – Life
in your inbox

Posted on

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


Posted on

Standing Human

weary joint-knot
fade pale your wounds
into the horizons of the sun;
setting our hearts to rest.

CKS

Standing Human, digital sketch, 10 x 14 inch (25.4 x 35.56 cm)


In the past week, I have been witness to people being treated less than. Also, being lifted up by still others.

I don’t understand why we can hurt each other as we do. I don’t know what drives us to knock down, stifle motivation and passion. There is nothing wrong with honest reality. That is different than purposely separating and demeaning.

Ego drives us to act better than we are, or to put someone down to make ourselves feel better.

I love watching that darkness trying to suffocate life, and see the love actions of others making sure light wins.


Much of my reflections lately come back to mental health, in particular how we treat people with mental illness. By random chance, an article about a possible development in Dallas came through my news feed google graces me with on my phone.

It caught my attention, because the possible development involved Timberlawn Psychiatric Hospital; to be turned into some sort of homes/gated community? Caught my attention. In the mid 1990’s I was there. Some pretty horrific experience.

This led to an article last year announcing its closing. The state was going to close them if they didn’t close themselves. A rabbit hole of articles and I realize it wasn’t just me. My experience was minimal compared to the horrors some experienced.

My rabbit hole keeps expanding. My questions grow. My desire to speak more urgent.


Profits and less than(ness).

Other than to say, my desire to finish and produce the play I have been working on is reinvigorated. I am placing the words of my molesters and abusers next to words of medical staff. Then placing the words of dear friends, mentors next to the words of yet more medical staff.

Whatever you call it, two words may describe; 1) unacceptable and 2) love. May the play example both for the sake of awareness, education, connection.

May you be empowered to speak up for yourself even when all seems hopeless. May you find a path, your path.

You are beautiful. You are enough.

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


Please share with others, and if you have not already, please sign up to receive Crooked Little Flower directly within your inbox! Join Us

Posted on

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.

love

pain;
transient in
her harmony;

tinkers
notes about everything.

CKS

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.

Breath

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

Posted on

Softly

Softly.
Only,
Wrapped.

CKS

Softly, digital drawing, 10 x 8 in (25.4 x 20.32 cm)


Long ago eyes she calls out to the love that is you. She calls out to the hurt that is you. She calls out to the joy that is you.

She is aware of her jaded heart and mistrust. She is aware of her distortions and misguidedness. She is aware and you accept and gently confront such things within her and within you.

We do these things together. Why? Because we love. We sit beside each other in the silence of the heavy and in the laughter of the moments.

We are soft.

It feels good when I am able to make decisions and see the progress of the journey. Equally is a joy of neutrality within my own acceptance of me. A process never stagnant. Do you cradle acceptance of you? I hope so. And if not, may you begin.

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


Posted on

Humor and Beauty

The self I make is indeed
steadfast and intractable.

Laughing myself elastic,
I am elastic resilience;
a magnificent voltaic buoyancy
learning love anew.

The self I make is indeed
resolute and unmanageable.

Dreaming myself silly,
I am jester juggler;
a clown inside out
learning freedom with you.
CKS

from I pray on dirty knees

learning to laugh
freedom in smiling
thanksgiving in the grief


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

Posted on

Letting Go Before We Say Goodbye

Holy Spirit, my lover, Come,
Get dirty with me!

Dig into me deep!
Cut away my destructions!

Holy Spirit, my lover, Come,
Get dirty with me!

Let us scratch the dirt with our fingers
And watch the edible beauty rise!

Holy Spirit, my lover, Come,
Get dirty with me!

With my heart’s sustenance, let me give
The energy of a genuine smile.
CKS


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


Letting Go Before We Say Goodbye, 42" x 31", ink, graphite, charcoal, paper
Letting Go Before We Say Goodbye, 42″ x 31″, ink, graphite, charcoal, paper

*for availability; dk Gallery – visit Here


*Series – Rainmaker and the Flower

Posted on

I Pray on Dirty Knees

Is it not simply Love’s Vow,
to withstand all light, and
all dark without fear?

Oh, she survives.
By the skin of her teeth;
She survives;
loneliness, isolation, and shame.

Her Love’s Vow;
a single promise and
fulfillment of
complete absence and
complete convergence.

Who is she to judge where she stands?
Who are they who stand where she seeks?

Oh, she survives.
By the skin of her teeth;
She survives;
because her path is illuminated
by willingness.

She stands blind and just keeps on walking.
CKS

from The Rainmaker and the Flower

naked prayer
dirty knees
mixed media on paper


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