the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

Harlequin! a new doll, with a painted muslin face, cotton cloth, stuffing,bells, beads buttons and ribbons.

Harlequin makes me think of the poet ee cummings who wrote "Damn everything but the circus!" and...

"here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

 and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)"

At the threshold

First a group portrait of my created friends who in turn create me, watching as I work.

 Next is a crossing the threshold story told in the form of a nesting doll. Life is full of thresholds that we cross and sometimes we don't even notice. It is how we grow, moving from dark to light, developing as beings in the world. Often at a threshold there is fear before we make the crossing.

I made these nesting dolls to be a reminder that it's OK to be afraid.
This is where we have the chance to whisper to each other "keep going..."

Nesting Dolls: Each one opens and contains the next

Fear Not

Fear Stands Guard

At the Threshold of Mystery

May All Beings Be Happy

                                                                                 

May All Beings Be Free...

keep going...my friend

Sarabande doll

           I finished this doll today and named her after the type of music I was hearing when I made her.
           She is all felt, all hand sewn. I sewed her arms and hands during a staff meeting! 

In nursing school many years ago, it surprised me to find that a cross section of our spinal cord shows nerve cells shaped as a butterfly, where sensory information flows to our awareness. That butterfly is a primal imprint in human consciousness, a symbol at times for death and rebirth.

Certainly in winter we can feel the dream of emerging from a cocoon toward a gentler spring.

Driftwood doll

I found him in Burlington Vermont near the fishing pier dock, Lake Champlain. I took him home and painted him, but left one side raw wood as I found him and sealed it. Painting driftwood feels like a collaboration with the wood and water and time.
I have had Shakespeare's Sonnet 15 on my mind lately, particularly the final two lines:
And all in war with Time for love of you, As he takes from you, I engraft you new.

It expresses for me the small possibilities we have to redeem and make new. It is my antidote to the cultural message of the futility of effort. We are so small, and our lives so brief, and yet we can spin magic,

and love and heal and create.

creative life

This newest doll has a paisley beaded heart. Her face and arms are of felt and paint, and her hands and feet are doll clay. Her hair is of all sorts of yarns, a shiny-beaded fiery balance to the winter weather.

I had a challenging week.The light is slowly returning.


Here is something else that I want to share. It is wonderful to be a part of the creative life, where seams show, hearts are worn outside, and feelings are a core component of what makes us human.


Thank you to artists and poets and music makers and creators of all stripes and polka dots.

Thank you to all who resist the pressure to conform to the narrows.

I am honored to walk in your company...

bright shiny love

Here are some of the dolls that I have made since November.
I have been using a simple form to play with colors, stitches, embroidery, beads and bells.

Making these makes my fingers sing. I hope that everyone finds the work that renews them, that brings them home again. 

Earth can be a lonesome planet, at times...

Where do I know you from?

And then we recognize each other again!

You are from the country of my soul. We have been here all along. Where else could we ever go?

I find myself at peace again.  Renewed...

Wishing you joy and  light in these dark times, and the endurance to create and share healing with all those who surround you.

We will not let fear diminish us.


cotton, felt, embroidery  floss, beads, love...

Spring is here, heralding creative survival! New beings...are being made...painted muslin faces, felt and fabric and bells...

a meditation on jacob's ladder

paper sculpture Karen Brooks 2010

Born into the world between silence. 

The sounds reverberate between silence.

   Keyboard, fret board, musical staph, all resemble ladders. 

Fingers, notes, angels, ascend and descend the spaces between. 

The silence embraces the sound, form is etched onto silent space.

From where ever you are, still connected to the eternal one.

A life, a brief and holy moment

between silence.

fire dragon

paper sculpture by Karen Brooks 2010

Today, all day, I felt small, like I was fading to darkness. Sometimes lost in the beast of conformity, I shut down. It's an old habit.
    A loved one reminds me; "you speak in color, it flows from your eyes, don't make yourself gray for others. You belong here too."
   Then I realize that I'm not in the wrong place. The force of transformation is here, to be called on, the force of love and power, promising to be here as long as we need. Ancient and twisted through to the core, reaching back to the stars, what we are born to be. To be a blessing, each and everyone, in our own way. We get to practice this with each other, and no one is excluded.

still climbing...

paper sculpture/ Karen Brooks 2010

the fleeting sweetness of summer days

sometimes I wonder how we walk around bumping our heads into so much beauty, not stunned into silence more often

so much pain
so much beauty
to keep us awake