The last time I saw my cat
She’d spotted an alligator.
Their play was fast
And quite sincere,
But when the dust settled
Did kitty eat him or he eat her? nancymauerman.com
The last time I saw my cat
She’d spotted an alligator.
Their play was fast
And quite sincere,
But when the dust settled
Did kitty eat him or he eat her? nancymauerman.com
I’ve always thought that following Moses, who followed the Lord, must have been like rock hounding in Wyoming. Dad had received a verbal map taking us half a day from home and hours off a recognizable ranching road. We were out there surrounded by lumpy emptiness, where we saw as many jack rabbits as there were tumble weeds. What we followed were just intermittent patches of tire tracks hardly making a mark on the hard dirt. Sometimes we’d drive in and out of ruts and dips so deep Dad wondered if we scrape a hole in necessary parts of our Ford’s belly. We’d be stranded. Often it had been so long since we’d seen tracks, we had to back up until we found where we’d left them and search in another direction. I watched and worried from the back seat because at times when we finally found the other campers someone who’d been expected never showed up. At dusk men left in their cars to try to find them. I followed my Dad because I was in the back seat but now I have my own map, the scriptures. When I get off track I reassess, back up and start in a new direction and I can count on my Savior to come and get me when I’m lost. nancymauerman.com
When I was young I realized I liked the idea of horses more than I liked being even six feet away from the big gigantic things. And they bite. And kick you if you touch them correctly, and I’d never had anything bigger than Lizzy, my five inch lizard, as a pet. Again I remind you horses are big especially if you’re a little kid.
Mindy owned a horse and talked me into struggling onto Sun’s BARE BACK. Sun knew he was in control, reared up, but not as high as the one below, “Grab his mane.” Mindy yelled. I thought this was very rude; you don’t go around pulling people’s hair and I didn’t imagine animals would like it either, but out of desperation I grabbed. Sun trotted. If I’d ever been under the illusion horses were cute trotting would have cured me. Soon he galloped which was better until I saw WE were heading for a six foot fence. Straight on for the fence. nancymauerman.com
On the first cold day
heater flew something into the air,
my cat waited,
cat is patient,
still waiting, meditation. nancymauerman.com
I drew this picture, in crayon and called it For John, when I was new at knowing my husband. My life of sloppy chaos began then to weave in elaborate patterns.
Our lives still soar in great hiccups of joy; he adores me too. So last week, as another realization of passion whacked and bounced back and forth against the inner planes of his soul, John declared he knew how to make art for me too.
“Let’s go up on Mt Hood, he said, “I’ll write a yellow, ‘I love Nancy’, in the snow.” nancymauerman.com
http://nancy-mauerman.artistwebsites.com/featured/for-john-nancy-mauerman.html
My mother often told me, “You have my permission to be better than me. In fact I expect you to be.” nancymauerman.com
Once I had the opportunity to teach two brothers, who were about a year apart in age. They had probably heard the word, “Jesus” but when they started coming to class in December they were amazed to find where Christmas came from. I’m sure they’d seen cards and manger figures but they didn’t know who was nestled in the straw. The boys listened quietly and carefully every week to the teachings of Christ, and were amazing at the miracles and seemed touched by His love and care for the people around him but something shook them to the core midway through the year.
In the spring one lesson showed Jesus taking on punishment for our wrong doings. The next week Christ was arrested; the boys were angry, were not silent this time but I kept teaching. They were amazed at the putting back of the soldier’s ear, even though he was acting as an enemy. They were again angry at His fake trial, but evidently they expected him to perform a miracle and get away like a TV movie character or that His father would step in and save the day and show up all the bad guys. They expected the same justice and love Jesus gave out to come to his rescue.
I told my class those people Jesus loved did kill Him.
Both boys broke into tears.The entire class, including me, were shaken, not so much by the two boys bent double in their chairs weeping but because of them. This was not a distant even, we were there with our crying class mates at the crucifixion, it was as if we knew this for the first time. When I could speak I say, “Wait, wait,you’ve got to hear what comes next.” I’ve never seen boys so relived when their God had not been killed by men. nancymauerman.com
Pain is a strange thing. As a child the physical pain of a skinned knee, is as bad as it gets. As and adult a skinned knee is hardly noticed; nothing compared to the other rips and breaks of growing up.
Emotional pain isn’t superseded but accumulated. The pain of kids calling you names in second grade is packed away inside. When, as an adult, a poison pen letter, carefully crafted and sent with your name on top, is opened that pain mixes with the old similar hurts. Damage from the name calling kids has seeped up from within. This isn’t pleasant but perhaps its a tool through which we can learn empathy. nancymauerman.com
Orange bicycle handles and yellow plastic lids overlap and surround this frame. Loops, a happy shape, are at the end of the lids and are echoed in the pattern on the woman’s dress. A very happy woman, in yellow, is standing at the end of her sidewalk.; at the other end is her home. I like houses with plenty of windows and so does she. I need light and enlightenment. The joyous woman in yellow writes kid’s books and someone wrote to her saying her stories weren’t good at all but gave FIVE SUGGESTIONS. The yellow writer is rich five times over! She often reassesses, searching for ways to improve, so now she’s ecstatic. What a treasure! She gets to remake all her books! Yea, its a great deal of work but think of all the enlightenment and everything she’ll learn. To quote Lawrence Welk , the big bubble maker, “Wonderful wonderful!” nancymauerman.com
Choose ye this day whom ye shall be; a flea on a dog or a bird in a tree. High art should move you to the core spiritually and intellectually; cause you to wonder.
The picture below, called Screaming Hills, is a response to my having read several scriptures speaking of the dust on the earth crying out to tell secrets men have thought hidden. The plains people of old North America tell stories of the Devouring Hill, who is also a cognitive creature, although I never understood his function or enmity toward men.
I understand I’m packed full of more tiny creatures than I am cells of myself and even the Nancy cells are conscience creatures. Similarly, the earth is full of many creatures, including me, and Earth also has a conscience spirit.
My function is a little different than that of my friend the Earth, I won’t be a witness, for or against, the creatures in and on me, “Boy, let me tell you how much trouble that microbe caused,” or, “Wow, what a guy. This little fellow helped me digest food SO well.”
Take this figuratively or not but choose ye this day whom ye shall be;
a torment to others,
or a beautiful soul, soaring through earth’s history. nancymauerman.com