Miss Emily

This week we have the privilege of having ShadowJewels as our featured seller here on the Beteabon Blog. 

Make sure to read her interview and comment to win some amazing Victorian inspired jewelry!

One of her favorite poets is Emily Dickinson, who is also a favorite of mine.  Rhonda at ShadowJewels refers to her as the quintessential peculiar woman, I like the reference. 

 Truly Emily Dickinson was odd and rather wonderful.  There was something 'otherworldly' about the way Emily Dickinson saw life, something a bit Charming and Childlike, Prim and Clear.  She was all at once very young, and very old.

If you are not familiar with her poetry, I encourage you to read a bit about her life, and delve into her poems.  She had a rare gift.  Today I am sharing with you some of her poems that have been honored in the work of several very talented Artists on Etsy. 

To visit the listings themselves, simply click on the pictures...

     



From Below14th, lovely "Hope is a thing with feathers" necklace



Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.




From CathyKiffneyStudio an amazing clay bird





From LisaHopkinsDesign a ring to keep you Hopeful



A bird perched atop a fencepost at Arlington National Cemetary
from MKC Photography



Stunning artpiece from RCBArtdesign

 I'll tell you how the Sun rose --
A Ribbon at a time --
The Steeples swam in Amethyst --
The news, like Squirrels, ran --
The Hills untied their Bonnets --
The Bobolinks -- begun --
Then I said softly to myself --
"That must have been the Sun"!
But how he set -- I know not --
There seemed a purple stile
That little Yellow boys and girls
Were climbing all the while --
Till when they reached the other side,
A Dominie in Gray --
Put gently up the evening Bars --
And led the flock away --

A journal for your own poems from The Curio Studio by Sparkplug 95



A Word made Flesh is seldom
And tremblingly partook
Nor then perhaps reported
But have I not mistook
Each one of us has tasted
With ecstasies of stealth
The very food debated
To our specific strength --

A Word that breathes distinctly
Has not the power to die
Cohesive as the Spirit
It may expire if He --
"Made Flesh and dwelt among us"
Could condescension be
Like this consent of Language
This loved Philology.

Beautiful Mixed Media by Mizkatie

I dwell in Possibility--
A fairer House than Prose--
More numerous of Windows--
Superior--for Doors--

Of Chambers as the Cedars--
Impregnable of Eye--
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky--

Of Visitors--the fairest--
For Occupation--This--
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise--

This Week's Giveaway...In Honor of Hope!

Congrats to 'Vinci' winner of last week's Atomic Goodies Giveaway!

There are times in this life where situations happen that are completely out of our control, and we are not sure how to respond to them.  

Or how to make it through.  

So much of my focus this past weekend has been on Japan, and the devastation that nation and it's precious people are facing.  Over and over again I think How are they going to make it through?  How is anything going to be okay again?

But then I am reminded that Human beings are amazingly resilient.  It is surprising we are because we are also so fragile.  So in spite of the devastation I know that somehow Japan will find a way back from this.  It will not be easy, things will not be the same, they are and will continue to experience sorrow and setbacks...but they will survive.  

And I am glad for Grace when I remember that.  

I am not sure how many of you have seen this particular story on the news, but I wanted to share it because of this truth.  There is always hope.  Whether one is faced with a devastating tsunami or a difficult diagnosis...whether it is a bad day, or the worst day of your life...whether you have lost everything or kept everything and still feel empty...
there is hope.
Meet 60-year-old Hiromitsu Shinkawa, he was rescued two days after the tsunami struck hanging onto what was left of the roof of his house.  He was almost 10 miles (15K) out off of Fukushima Prefecture when he was rescued by a Maritime Defense Force destroyer after a helicopter saw him waving. 

 He is in good condition.

When something unavoidable happened, he held on and kept hoping for two days that he would be found. And he was.  I wonder how many more stories of hope will come out of this tragedy.  I for one sorrow at the loss, but am thankful for the hope.

Hope doesn't disappoint, it is like a voice inside that tells you to keep trying, keep hanging on, keep moving forward.  Hope is a beautiful thing, and it is a beautiful thing that is meant to be shared.

Our featured seller this week, Niftic, is a very special lady.  She is beautiful outside, and her heart is even lovelier. She is someone who has been through some things, and has kept pursuing her passion.  She is someone who has encouraged me on more than one occasion to keep moving forward, to have hope.  She passes that gift of hope along with her sense of humor and her real love for what she does.

She has donated some stunning things for this week's giveaway, items that will remind you not only to think of those who need your thoughts and prayers and help, but I believe items that will bring you joy and remind you to keep your sense of humor, your passion and your hope.  

This week's giveaway, courtesy of NifTic on Etsy:

An Akro Agate Vase, a Cloisonne Japanese Fan Brooch & A Silk Print Japanese Scarf ...

These are Wow prizes! (valued at more than $100)

This week you can enter the giveaway by:

1) Commenting on any blog posting during the week.

2) Becoming a new follower of this blog 

3) Becoming a follower of Niftic on Twitter @ http://twitter.com/#!/NiFticVintage, and commenting here that you have done so.

Happy Commenting!!!

Gus.

Several years ago-maybe even five or six at this point, 

I found a baby robin that had fallen out of a tree...

Just a week before I found this one there had been another robin, a smaller one that had fallen from the nest. I had guarded it faithfully in the hopes that its mother would come for it...but though she tried--it was too weak to fly away with her.  I had taken it and tried to nurse it, but to no avail, and so the first little bird died.

When I saw this second bird, I did the same thing, without much hope for a different outcome.  I guarded him all day from the hungry neighborhood cats (some of which belonged to me)...and watched his mother's attempts to coax him into the air.  I watched him as he grew weaker and weaker.  Then, night fell and so I took him in my cupped hands inside, into my garage.

I named him Gus Featherstaff.  

And I prayed he would last till morning.

 He made it through that first night, and many others after growing fat and happy on a diet of nuts and berries I pulverized for him in a blender. He would sing as I brought him his meals and in appreciation Gus often perched on my shoulder, and sometimes  (when he was feeling particularly jovial) the top of my head.

Gus grew, and got strong—he could sing, he could fly, he was merry.

Gus was ready to fly out into the world...but he didn't...

He just waited.  Waited for me to bring him his meals, as I always had.  I tried to talk to him about catching worms and doing robin things, but the truth is that, though I loved him, and I think he loved me, he and I did not speak the same language.

No matter how much I wanted to teach him what he needed to know, what he needed to BE was something that couldn’t be taught.  In my desire to protect him, I kept him from the very thing he needed to be all along.   A robin.

I ended up taking him to a wonderful reserve near my home, they rescue birds and teach them to survive on their own in the wild...They had other robins there, so Gus could acclimate himself to being a robin again.

I cried all the way home.

Often when I see a robin, I call Gus's name...in the hopes that somehow it is him, that he's made his way back to me...and often the robins will cock their head to one side.  So I am almost certain that it's someone that Gus has told about me, perhaps even a son or daughter--

I realized the other day as I called out to a 'Gus' that a wonderful thing had happened in my life...

Every Robin has become a 'Gus' and a friend.

What joy to have held a wild thing in your hand, and to have let it go. 

To hope it will return...and suddenly one Spring day discover that it has returned, 

a hundred times over 

because the HOPE of return is the gift, again, and again, and again.

          If I can stop one heart from breaking

                 I shall not live in vain

                 If I can ease one Life the Aching

                 Or cool one Pain

                 Or help one Fainting Robin

                 Unto his nest again

                 I shall not live in Vain.

                                               -Emily Dickinson

Have a wonderful weekend.