Three Graces Night and Day
August 7, 2010 by catvibe
cvibert_fall10
Three Graces Night and Day by Cat Vibert
20X24 oil on canvas

Dawn pierces through the dead of night

where light becomes shadow

then shadow to light

as pain sees beauty

when sorrow finds sight

seeking refuge in the deep.

See mountains beyond so steeped in blue

but when I climb them

there is only You

for that is the path

we climb anew

in spirals of our sleep.

Awake then friend, and see the dawn

for dark becomes light

when night has gone

The Graces will sing

their  siren song

forever yours to keep.


@2010 Catherine Vibert

Dear friends, perhaps you remember a poetry contest a few months back in which Sarah Hina, Tom Hirons and Rachel Westfall were the winners?  That contest featured the photo that inspired this painting.  This painting represents a new turn for me in my painting, as I’ve just started in with a teacher and I’m loving the results.  Can’t wait to get started on the newest effort!

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Just Maybe
January 22, 2010 by catvibe
8hb_mirrors
Mirrored Buddha by Cat Vibert.
Photography Collage.
From Headless Buddha Series available in Art Store.

If I sit

Long enough

With enough quiet

My mind might disappear

Then maybe



Just maybe

When the characters in my mind

Step off the stage,

I will hear You


I will hear You in the wind

In the song of the bird

Or the purr of my cat

In the voice of my lover

Or the cackle of the witch

Just maybe


And just maybe

When the sea behind my eyes

Is no longer drowning me,

I will see You


I will see You in the sky

On the starlit horizon

Or there in the ground

The crystal held in rock

Just maybe


And just maybe

When needy thoughts have fled

Because I am not listening,

I will feel You


I will feel You,

In the beating of my heart

As the world decays around me

My heart would beat for You

I would follow the rhythm

Dancing to Your song

Just maybe…

 

 

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The Gift of Song
December 8, 2009 by catvibe


	11ci_spoonsandlight


Image: Spoons and Light
An image of a friend’s musical spoon collection.  


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Prepackaged and out of the box, we humans come with some amazing gifts.  One gift that is often overlooked due to the media and our obsession with superstars is the gift of song.  As someone who has always sung, I have often heard people tell me how lucky I am to be able to sing, and how they wish they could sing.  This has always befuddled me, because everyone can sing.  Some have more talent than others, it’s true, but I’m not speaking of talent, I’m speaking of the gift of song, something everyone is endowed with.


Why then, should you sing?


As a trained singer with my college degree in music, I have sung a gamut of styles from folk to opera and pretty much everything in between.  In fact, in one video game that even my dear friend Aniket from India has played, Prince of Persia 3D, I sang in a middle eastern style of wailing!  I have come to realize that the singing that makes me happiest is not the following of the written note.  It isn’t the songs I’ve written or that anyone else has written.  It is the song of the wild.  The coyote howling at the moon.  It is the raising of the voice in song, no matter how it sounds, no matter what note is hit, no matter whether it’s in tune, on pitch, dulled by misuse, sharp, shrill, full, angelic, none of that matters.  What matters is that song vibration coming out of your throat is your ticket to happiness.  Just try it.  Open up your throat and sing for five minutes.  Sing something never sung before.  You don’t need words, you don’t need an audience, you don’t need to be anything other than who and what you are.  If someone asks you to stop, ask them to join in or leave you alone to do this thing. Don’t listen to the non-believers! I guarantee you that five minutes of this activity and you will feel something amazing happening within you.


And then another thing I learned about singing.  Singing with someone else is prayer.  And communion.  Call and response.  Harmony.  Can’t talk about a subject with someone?  Try having a musical conversation, you’d be amazed at how much better the chat can go.


Have an altar in your home?  Try singing toward your altar with your hands up in the air.  Howl if you think you can’t sing.  Twirl, go nuts, get ecstatic.  Turn off your critic.  Turn off the voices of those who told you not to sing one time long ago.  If they knew what you do now, they’d let you sing.  They’d sing too!


For health and happiness. Raise your voice in song, and do this every day.  All your challenges will go a little easier if you let the your voice fill the air.


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Reflecting Pool
December 24, 2008 by catvibe

Light springs from darkness
Deep in the reflecting pool
Beauty transpires

on Christmas Eve, 2008
Merry Christmas everyone!

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The Monkey Mind Paints
November 24, 2008 by catvibe


With a quiet mind, she stepped out into the room, a paint roller in hand, and started to spread the color on the walls. At first it nibbled at her thoughts, and as she slowly began to replace the worn and dirty white walls with color, she could feel the effect overcome her like a wave, it was visceral. Words that would be poems started to swirl through her mind like leaves falling off the tree in the whistling autumn wind. Instead of writing them down, she edged into the corners with her brush…

I don’t know if it was the quickening of my heart
As you looked over my shoulder at the screen
Perhaps it was the sound of your voice
Falling like silk over my ears
I didn’t mind the coffee on your breath
Or your hair all asunder, the holes in your sleeve
Something unseen, unknowable was pulling me toward

“OW!” She screamed as the cat bit her ankle. Chasing him as he bounded across the room, she noted that his back was coated with yellow paint. She managed to grab him by the tail just as he was about to jump onto the sofa. “Into the bedroom with you,” she said after cleaning him off. She deposited him into the room and closed the door. She paused and glanced around the room noting the play of colors before picking up the roller again to continue the task. She rolled on the stuff, up and down, over and across…

Listen to the wind howling through the windows
Lying here next to you on this cold winter night
My hand under my pillow as my finger reaches
Toward your face, I find it is compelled
to trace the outline of your lip
You awaken at the touch of

“Damn!” she explicated as she lost control of the roller and painted a large swath of the wrong color on the ceiling.

Gone, you never wanted me,
You were repelled at the sight of me
I am just an aging tired woman
Desperate for passion
In the final days before the bleeding stops.
I am worthless, I am vile
I

The phone rang. She put the roller down and ran toward where she thought the phone might be. It wasn’t there. She followed the sound like a homing beacon until she found it. “Can you bring the chicken downstairs, I’m hungry”, her father beckoned from the downstairs apartment. She went to the refrigerator, got the leftover bird and brought it downstairs. Returning through the basement door, she stopped at the landing and surveyed the living room, now completely clothed in its glorious new coat. She stood staring at the walls, feeling the living blood returning to her cheeks.

You are exquisite in your own right
You are color, I invite you in
Possess my thoughts
Inhabit my soul
Inspire my hands
To be your servants
Quiet my drunken mind
With your cool watery blues
Enliven my blood with your rusty reds
Bring my thoughts
Into to the light of your golden sun.

She let the cat out of the bedroom and stooped down to build a fire in the stove. As the coals warmed the air, the two of them lay blissfully entwined on the sofa and she fell asleep to the song of his purr.

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Clarity
November 3, 2008 by catvibe
Somewhere,
I heard the thought
That from the highest plane
The confusion becomes undistorted
And is all a part of the perfect order

I would like to dedicate this poem to Madelyn Dunham, Barack Obama’s grandmother. I’m sure she is up there now on that highest plane helping to put order into things down here.
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Guardian of the Gates
November 2, 2008 by catvibe

I am calling you to this plane
Naga Kanya, guardian of the gates
The twisting of the serpents
Has wrung dry the waters of your ocean
It is time for you to return
And bring the moisture of compassion
To this parched dry land
Your protection is needed at this time
To return us to the intended path
With your sacred offering,
Let the tides wash clean our shores
And usher in the winds of change
To heed our collective call

To Judith, I thank you for the inspiration…

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The Dance of Living
October 23, 2008 by catvibe

We dance the steps of the living
And for each step, we are grateful, we are joy.
Moving through each reality
With mindful paces
We are fleeting
Turning away, we are gone

Thank you to the monks of the Rambok Monastery, Sikkim, India.
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