“Tick Clock”

Clock

Slept in

to 10:23 a.m.

Needed it.

Asa was talking to me

at 6 a.m.

I was so tired

I couldn’t respond…

And,

they,

my dreams,

were pulling me back

into them.

He wakes up,

between 4 and 6 a.m.

each morning,

to feed

his business and financial anxieties.

He lets the reins of

negativity and hopelessness

loose,

and the beast

of despair

plunges him into

conflicted mindstreams.

He hurls rocks toward

himself,

as he projects

frustration,

into his opening hours

"Asa at Nine A.M."

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Reality Tale

Please adopt whatever you need from this journal entry I made late in 2007 and use it as a mantra, a meditation, a chant, a prompt, encouragement, or an affirmation.

"Beauty Radiates from Within"

The tale dances me through the day and elevates me as I sleep pouring new ideas, thoughts, dreams, and images into my creative work.

People stop me to talk, they compliment me, they’re curious about my work.

The public treats me as a celebrity.  They ask my professional opinion.

My fans want to own my work, engage my consulting services; they send me gifts and thank-you’s.

I am able to write fluently.

I design new styles, forms, and images with spirit and vitality.

I paint and draw with passion and emotional strength.

I can think well because I am well and very healthy.

My gratitude is deep and I evolve into a more authentic figure of myself.

I communicate clearly, accept inner challenges, and love deeply.

I swish through difficulties, problem solve without conflict, and increase my patience.

I send out showers of goodness, goodwill and charm.

I’m charitable, compassionate, reliable, open, and joyful.

I embrace the universe as it is, respect it, and understand that my thoughts, deeds, and actions either support or destroy parts of it.  I choose to be supportive.

I trust my vibes and live a six-sensory practice using my intuition as my guide.

I live in the present and use my consciousness wisely and widely.

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Argent March To the Tulips!

Desaturated Color
"My Inside and Outside Don't Match"
"I Feel Really Frail, Weak... "
" ...and Close to Death Often"
"Yet, My Exterior Looks Healthy ..."
" ...Strong and Well"

The water’s slapping at the rocks along the seashore.  Two black crows are dropping single barnacles onto the black parking lot below me.  Once the shell cracks, their hungry beaks break into them and pull the contents out, stretching it like a rubber band. An airplane hums along with Sarah Vaughan.  As the plane’s engine gets louder a piano riff is heard from the background.  The candle flame keeps me company as does the electric baseboard heater that just clicked on and is making its spring-loaded clicky sounds.  All this is a comfort.

A man’s red all-weather jacket lights up the gray surface of the Seawalk.  Sarah Vaughan sings, “It’s just my luck to be in love with you” to the man’s back, as he takes slow strides forward, keeping his hands in his pockets, never straying from the carved granite curb of the walkway.

Where am I in my life?

The message at the yoga class is: do not be judgmental.  I concentrate on remembering this as I go along, feeding the inner critic cream puffs to keep its mouth full, so I don’t have to listen to its outbursts.  I keep the faultfinder noshing instead of gnawing at me.

Sometimes it’s okay to have cold arms, a clean kitchen, and time to watch the raindrops collect on the window glass while sunflower seeds roast in the oven.  I’ve put the French station on the radio hoping to hear some jazz.  A train is coming from the East.  It’s a very short one:  only eleven cars; some with well integrated graffiti striking their sides.

Mid-afternoon and the rain is tickling the sea; making the water laugh.  An orangey-red and white boat stands out; motoring by it looks like a running shoe.  A gray gull waves his wings up and down above the water shaking a heavy rain out of his feathers as he flies through an unexpected cloudburst.  The atmosphere is argent:  monochromatic.

The day seeps into night and into 2:30 a.m.

It’s pouring.

The sound of the rain.

The rain’s texture,

Its sticks of water

plummeting toward the ground.

I wake up and my color is back!

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

“If I Die”- because I don’t intend to!

"I don't intend to die," spills from a Lily

If I die,

Look for me as a bright red berry

on a deep green tree.

If I die

Search for me along the shore

among the rocks.

If I die

Think a pure thought and

find me there.

If I Die

Take a deep breath and

find me in your heart.

If I die

don’t look for me at the gym,

the bookshop, or the mall.

I will be that single, shining

ray of sun,

When the rain stops,

I will be the magenta

in the rainbow.

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Fire Your Preachers!

River Body

Mid-Capilano River

Tear down your

temples,

Fire your preachers.

Run outdoors

and

listen to the river

speak!

The trees flock

together to

hear it.

They stretch

their arms out

toward it.

A thousand

meditations

cannot do as

much for me as

twenty minutes

by your bed.

The rocks are

instruments

you play and your

notes transcend

my mortal frame.

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Imprinted/Impermanent Boneyard

Evanescent, Fleeting, Mortal, Perishable, Corruptible, Changeable, Unstable: Impermanent

“The magic of photography is the photographer’s ability to squeeze an instant out of time and allow it to speak in its own tome; a decaying and wrenching lament.  A measure of time by the smooth to the lined, the upright to the fallen, the here and now to the end.”  (N.R. Rigets)

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

Yesterday’s “Anthrax” of Life

"Morning Glory"

I’m having a day of disorder,

I can feel I’m wearing

my Father’s expression

along the sides of my mouth.

The misery lines

lead nowhere.

I walk and write.

Yesterday I found anthrax

in my life.

I stop to

see a crow

selectively picking up

soft white under-feathers

to line his nest.

A blister forms on my

best toe,

from a pair of shoes

I thought I could trust.

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets