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Tag Archives: Nancy Wait
Flowing Fences
I used to walk along looking at people and objects and things, noticing them, studying them, whereas now I am conscious of energy. Everything I see is an example of an energy flow. Continue reading
Posted in ART
Tagged Art, art and feeling, bridging worlds, Brooklyn, creativity, drawing, expression, harmonious duo, Nancy Wait, Park Slope fences, the nancy who drew, tree beds, wrought-iron fences
5 Comments
The Self-P and the Self-E
(The Self-P is for Self-Portrait. Self-portraits were the first Selfies, pre-dating them by hundreds of years. Plus they took a lot longer.) Continue reading
Posted in ART, Memoir
Tagged alchemy of memoir, Art, art and feeling, autobiography, inner-self, memoir, Nancy Wait, outer-self, self-portraits, selfies, the nancy who drew
4 Comments
En Pointe!
I have no conscious memory as a ballerina in a past life. But the dream of dancing en pointe showed me that I knew how to do it. Whether or not my physical brain remembered, there was a memory in my light body. Perhaps a cellular memory of another time, another place. Continue reading
A Post-Shame Point of View
“The challenge is to write about shame from a post-shame point of view, to enter an ego-free zone, cleared of mirror-worship and whining, to walk out naked and speak intimately…” Continue reading
Posted in ART, Memoir
Tagged alchemy of memoir, autobiography, Close to the Bone, Laurie Stone, memoir, memoir writers, Nancy Wait, on writing, self-knowledge, self-scrutiny, the nancy who drew
1 Comment
Me and My Shadow (Self)
I call these pictures Me and My Shadow. One is a photo and the other is a self-portrait taking place around the same time. And they don’t even look like the same person. Continue reading
The Earrings
It was a tiny shop. There was no one there but a woman in a sari standing behind the glass counter. She smiled at me as I came in. Or rather, her face lit up, causing me to wonder if I had been the only customer that day. I smiled back. She wasn’t young, somewhere in her forties I would have thought. Her long sleek black hair fell in a thick braid down her back. I pointed to the earrings in the window and asked if she could bring them in for me to see. Continue reading
Being Brooklyn Rainbow
What happened next was something many of us dreamers have to go through, which is attuning ourselves to the world we live in, and being able to manage, while not losing sight of the world we dream of—like the rainbow light. Which is really a higher vibration, a higher frequency. But I found I was able to keep the connection going through art, through painting and drawing. Continue reading
Nancy Wait 