Ceramics ~ And other things I make

NaRa’s Instagram Art (Klexy Colors)

NaRa’s Klexy Colors IMG_0983

Sample pic. Hit text NaRa’s Klexy Colors to be sent to link for more. ☝️

When I’m not writing poems, I’m busy with my other artistic endeavors.

Happy to share. 🙂

 

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Art Illustration + Poems, Ceramics + Writing

Katie’s Getaway

There’s something in her eyes
Bilateral memories of
An invitation
A home

Her intentions are intelligible,
As you’re at the edge, blinded by
Her seductive rapport
To flip suddenly rapturously into the deep
With seahorses …. her fleeting motherhood qualities

An enigma to nature
She’s never the color red coming towards you
Always receding into, fathomless blue
Until you follow, to be,
Pulled down into, what seems to be, mermaid treachery
Don’t battle yourself
Compassion is not deception

Words and Art by: NaRa

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Ceramics + Writing, Earthly voids & Spiritual quest

Blue Tara’s Violet Flames

The burning beacon of our blue mother star.
Her secret mantra like smoke rises in our wounded hearts; to cleanse all contempt and fears away.
She pulls us out of the deep sea’s sorrow and brings us back to shore.
She is the brazen warrior of radical acceptance towards transformative joyous love.
Her blue- violet blaze, is our guide and protector, for our spiritual arrival home.

These are photos of the progess and the finished shrine. This art piece was a real joy to make, and I’m inspired to do a Tara series now. It keeps me connected to what I would want to be one day. For we all can be like Tara/Bodhisattvas if our hearts are open to first self-compassion and then compassion for others that seek the path of self-surrender. Being comfortable in falling apart, to be held, and mended back into something beautiful.

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Earthly voids & Spiritual quest

Enshrine Skin

The flutter of flags in the wind,
To sanctify her solitude of grievance.
She wants to be worthy of this utterance.
She has ripened in this season…
Spent with eyes closed and casted to the ground.

Golden bands to open the mind’s eye.
Mummified in golden chants,
To caress the awakening of skin.

The ritual has begun.
Mala crowns her blossoming mind.
Unearthed, in the sacred,
To become a living shrine.

Poem and Art by: Naomi Ruth W.

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Jay Poem 4.

Amethyst August

She dreamt of an August night,   red and blue run across his chest.
binding his heart to bleed amethyst.

Once, he lied in her lap, sank in the fragrance of sunflowers.                 He stretched out upon her, like he was lying on the cool meadow ground of Colorado.

His hand danced in hers,               her slender fingers                          bended and bounded, in his mind.

She never got to kiss him on a starlit August night.                         For the stars, scattered…       forever a mess.

He always remains, in the age of twenty-four, and she is no longer the child.

Poem and Art by: Naomi Ruth Saharski W.

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