Annunciation

When She Was Bad…

ambarbee — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 02:26:26 +0000

Seattle in the Fall

ambarbee — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 02:14:13 +0000

Memory

ambarbee — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 09:07:01 +0000

Introduction

ambarbee — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 21:19:20 +0000

This is our first Mars Hill assignment, to introduce yourself using an 8 1/2 by 11 sheet of paper. I’m usually not a huge fan of collage, because I don’t like how mine turn out. But this one’s not bad. :)

Sam and Abby, Part 1

ambarbee — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 20:16:08 +0000

July 18th, 2009

The Girls

ambarbee — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 06:11:54 +0000

These are the two little girls that I have the privilege of living with. :)

Sun

ambarbee — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 05:07:32 +0000

Not the greatest picture, but it’ll have to do. It’s been a long time since I’ve painted. It felt good to get back to it.

$5 Sunflowers

ambarbee — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 05:04:17 +0000

At Pike’s Place Market (AKA the best place in the universe), you can buy bouquets of flowers for $5… and that makes me very very happy.

And the sunset this evening. Beautiful.

No Place Like Home

ambarbee — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 04:21:30 +0000

I began by counting down the days,
counting down the days until
the ruins were left behind;
left behind, along with the wounds they gave–
or so I hoped.

I hoped, at the end of this yellow brick road
I would find that gift for which my soul cries.

My soul cries, not for a brain instead of straw;
not for a heart instead of a hollow tin.;
not for courage instead of fear.

My soul cries for a place to rest,
to rest and feel safe,
to feel safe and loved without condition,
a place to call home.

I’ve counted down the days,
3…2….1… and here I am,
walking the streets of the Emerald City,
hoping, still, to find what I’m looking for.

But the curtain has already been drawn,
the wizard revealed as a man alone.

And this, the place where Dorothy’s story and my own diverge:
There is no good witch to impart her wisdom,
to tell me I had the power all along.
If I click my heels together, only bruises will I gain.

There’s no place like home.

Finally, Hope

ambarbee — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 03:30:00 +0000

Inspired by therapy – partly my own experience, and partly the experience of others. Written in rhymed iambic pentameter.

Finally, Hope

I sit. My eyes, they move around the room.

I breath, and hold my knees up to my chest.

I speak. I try to bring you to my tomb

I hope that this will somehow give me rest.

You search, and ask me where my mind has gone.

You wait. I look away, I know, I fear

You ask. But if you saw what’s going on

You’d run. Alone, you’ll leave me dying here.

It hurts. My head, it spins, I cannot see.

It screams, I hold on tight, afraid to fall.

It taunts. The darkness closes in on me.

It waits for me to build another wall.

I hear you ask, please take me there with you.

I breath again as light comes seeping through.