Candace, thank you so much! I'm in tears. This is beautiful, beautiful. I'm touched beyond words by the power of our collaboration. You honor my experience with you lovely art.
Jennifer, thank you so much for your beautiful comment, and please know that the honor is all mine! I'm so grateful you took the time to share your moving sounds of home with us -- the owl and the meadowlark have stayed with me ever since I first read your story 🤍
Thank-you for sharing your lovely story Jennifer. How wonderful that you were able to find some solace from these birds in the midst of your pain. It is a beautiful story and I enjoyed your writing.
This is such a moving comment, Rose -- those walks are indeed very long when your heart is filled with pain, and I'm so glad to hear you survived that season of life. Thank you for being here and sharing 🤍✨
Hi Candace, I am following along and do read your stories almost every week. You always manage to write something that inspires and brings happiness to my days, and of course your illustrations bring more joy. :) I hope you and your little family are settling in well in Belguim. Hugs!
It's so good to hear from you here, Judy! And thank you so much for your lovely words -- I'm thrilled to hear that what I share here sends a little happiness your way :) Sending a big hug from Antwerp to Whitehorse 🤍
Candace ... what a beautiful, generous offering. I'll be delighted to start the next few days with your gifts of inspiration. And thank you also to Jennifer Rose, whose story touched a Colorado moment for me.
Joyce, it's so lovely to connect with you, and I'm really happy to hear that Jennifer's story resonated with you -- and that you even share a connection with Colorado. By the way, I also just received your email and look forward to writing more a bit later in the day! 🤍
Owls and meadowlarks are a part of my life too. When I retreat to my garden to get away from a nightmare, I hear the owls. Sometimes I've mimicked them and fooled them into thinking I was a potential lover. Not a nice thing to do. And every now and then, while driving between the cow and hay fields, a meadowlark's melody will pierce the silent air, shrill and filled with joy.
"Every now and then, while driving between the cow and hay fields, a meadowlark's melody will pierce the silent air, shrill and filled with joy." Sue, what beautiful words to capture a beautiful moment -- I almost feel like I'm right there with you on that drive. Thanks so much for reading and being here 🤍
Thank you so much for your wonderful words, Julie, and I especially love that you used the word "nourished." When I was writing about roots here a few weeks ago, I looked up the definition of root at one point, and I was struck by how it said that roots "convey water and nourishment" to a plant. I've been thinking about the word nourish ever since, so it's an honor to hear that what I share here on Dandelion Seeds might be a source of nourishment for you as well 🤍
Thank you, Judy. Nature provides such comfort in the midst of the ups and downs of life. No one could have illustrated this memory more beautifully than Candance.
Thank you so much for your comment, Roseanne. I'm so glad Jennifer's story resonated with you as much as it did with me, and I loved the way you put that -- about building a container to hold the stories.
As I've been working on this series, I've been thinking a lot about how much I enjoy these kinds of collaborations and bringing different stories and voices together under a common theme, so I'm excited to keep experimenting with that here on Dandelion Seeds 🤍
Lovely! Thank you. I am currently reading a book about someone who spent time with a tribe that makes maps by following the sound of a bird. What a stunning concept. If only the writer had your, and Jennifer's ways with words. Instead she buries her unique experience in such stultifying language that it's almost unreadable.
I'm so glad you enjoyed Jennifer's story, Joy, and thank you for sharing about the book as well -- that sounds like a fascinating concept and one I'd love to read about. I'll have to try and look up the book, just to learn more about the tribe itself!
The information is fascinating, the writing is something else entirely. Language can breathe life into something, or it can, unfortunately, do the opposite.
It would seem more of a PhD thesis than a book intended for anyone to actually read. Trying to access the content of this book requires a lot of hard work and engenders deep frustration. Not something to take up lightly. You have to basically translate it from nearly inscrutable Academese into ordinary language every step of the way.
OTOH, when you finally get there, what it talks about underneath its obscuring language is a worldview that is completely different from any I have ever encountered. And I am stunned by it.
Yup. It’s the Great Wheel of Life. We make fence posts, meadowlarks stand on them and sing so sweetly, we listen and are touched with wonder, so we build even more fences for more meadowlarks.
Meanwhile, the redwing blackbirds sing their little Odes to Joy while balancing on cattails without any effort on our part, and so we live in a state of grace.
Candace, thank you so much! I'm in tears. This is beautiful, beautiful. I'm touched beyond words by the power of our collaboration. You honor my experience with you lovely art.
Jennifer, thank you so much for your beautiful comment, and please know that the honor is all mine! I'm so grateful you took the time to share your moving sounds of home with us -- the owl and the meadowlark have stayed with me ever since I first read your story 🤍
Thank-you for sharing your lovely story Jennifer. How wonderful that you were able to find some solace from these birds in the midst of your pain. It is a beautiful story and I enjoyed your writing.
What beautiful writing, perfectly complemented by your illustrations...
I'm so glad you enjoyed Jennifer's story as well, Joan -- it has stayed with me ever since I first read it 🤍
I was totally transported,
maybe because I have been there....
-not Colorado
I too survived,
and aren’t those walks truly,very long ¿
Thank you for this wonderful collab.
I’m loving the ink to love the words too 🙏🏾📿🌹🫀🪶✨🌱🐚🪷
This is such a moving comment, Rose -- those walks are indeed very long when your heart is filled with pain, and I'm so glad to hear you survived that season of life. Thank you for being here and sharing 🤍✨
Hi Candace, I am following along and do read your stories almost every week. You always manage to write something that inspires and brings happiness to my days, and of course your illustrations bring more joy. :) I hope you and your little family are settling in well in Belguim. Hugs!
It's so good to hear from you here, Judy! And thank you so much for your lovely words -- I'm thrilled to hear that what I share here sends a little happiness your way :) Sending a big hug from Antwerp to Whitehorse 🤍
Beautiful ❤️
Thank you, Vicki!
Magical
Thank you, Ian! I'm so glad you could sense the magic in Jennifer's story, too ✨
So beautiful! I loved this.
I'm so happy you enjoyed this, Priya! Thanks so much for reading 🤍
Candace ... what a beautiful, generous offering. I'll be delighted to start the next few days with your gifts of inspiration. And thank you also to Jennifer Rose, whose story touched a Colorado moment for me.
Joyce, it's so lovely to connect with you, and I'm really happy to hear that Jennifer's story resonated with you -- and that you even share a connection with Colorado. By the way, I also just received your email and look forward to writing more a bit later in the day! 🤍
Thanks, and I look forward to connecting again.
So poignant, so well done❤
Thank you for your kind words, Donna! I'm so glad you enjoyed Jennifer's story 🤍
Owls and meadowlarks are a part of my life too. When I retreat to my garden to get away from a nightmare, I hear the owls. Sometimes I've mimicked them and fooled them into thinking I was a potential lover. Not a nice thing to do. And every now and then, while driving between the cow and hay fields, a meadowlark's melody will pierce the silent air, shrill and filled with joy.
"Every now and then, while driving between the cow and hay fields, a meadowlark's melody will pierce the silent air, shrill and filled with joy." Sue, what beautiful words to capture a beautiful moment -- I almost feel like I'm right there with you on that drive. Thanks so much for reading and being here 🤍
Thank you, Candace
Thanks to you both, Jennifer and Candace, for the beauty and heart you so generously put into the world. It nourishes me just when in need it.
Thank you so much for your wonderful words, Julie, and I especially love that you used the word "nourished." When I was writing about roots here a few weeks ago, I looked up the definition of root at one point, and I was struck by how it said that roots "convey water and nourishment" to a plant. I've been thinking about the word nourish ever since, so it's an honor to hear that what I share here on Dandelion Seeds might be a source of nourishment for you as well 🤍
Thank you, Judy. Nature provides such comfort in the midst of the ups and downs of life. No one could have illustrated this memory more beautifully than Candance.
Everything about this is beautiful - Jennifer's writing and what it evokes and the container Candace is building to hold the stories.
Thank you, both.
Thank you so much for your comment, Roseanne. I'm so glad Jennifer's story resonated with you as much as it did with me, and I loved the way you put that -- about building a container to hold the stories.
As I've been working on this series, I've been thinking a lot about how much I enjoy these kinds of collaborations and bringing different stories and voices together under a common theme, so I'm excited to keep experimenting with that here on Dandelion Seeds 🤍
lovely.
Thank you, LL!
Lovely! Thank you. I am currently reading a book about someone who spent time with a tribe that makes maps by following the sound of a bird. What a stunning concept. If only the writer had your, and Jennifer's ways with words. Instead she buries her unique experience in such stultifying language that it's almost unreadable.
I'm so glad you enjoyed Jennifer's story, Joy, and thank you for sharing about the book as well -- that sounds like a fascinating concept and one I'd love to read about. I'll have to try and look up the book, just to learn more about the tribe itself!
The information is fascinating, the writing is something else entirely. Language can breathe life into something, or it can, unfortunately, do the opposite.
It would seem more of a PhD thesis than a book intended for anyone to actually read. Trying to access the content of this book requires a lot of hard work and engenders deep frustration. Not something to take up lightly. You have to basically translate it from nearly inscrutable Academese into ordinary language every step of the way.
OTOH, when you finally get there, what it talks about underneath its obscuring language is a worldview that is completely different from any I have ever encountered. And I am stunned by it.
Did God create us knowing we would make fence posts that would become stages for meadowlarks to perform upon?
And that we would write and paint about our encounters, touched with wonder.
Yup. It’s the Great Wheel of Life. We make fence posts, meadowlarks stand on them and sing so sweetly, we listen and are touched with wonder, so we build even more fences for more meadowlarks.
Meanwhile, the redwing blackbirds sing their little Odes to Joy while balancing on cattails without any effort on our part, and so we live in a state of grace.
Constant. It’s a marvel we get anything done. 😁
Maybe that’s the point: to stop being so busy and learn to live amidst the wonder and grace in the world.