Listening - watching
taking a moment
drawing the world
finding the way to connection
again and again.

For upcoming classes and events
visit my website – BarbaraBash.com

Tuesday, July 30, 2019

Free Writing

I was recently asked to create some calligraphies of buddhist slogans
to be auctioned off at a fundraiser during the annual Family Camp
at Karme Choling, a retreat center in Vermont.

I happily agreed because it gave me a way to contribute and support
this good gathering and place.

Years ago, living in Boulder, Colorado, I did a lot of calligraphic commissions,
writing out wide ranging quotes for clients.
My creative work since then had shifted to a more personal voice
and big abstract brushstroke expression.

Over two days I free associated with these words,
letting the alphabetic forms and brushstrokes dance together.
I felt happy catching this fresh life, bringing together brightness, color, form, expression.

Memories arose from my years being a "Calligrapher to the Court"
during the alive time of Chogyam Trungpa's presence in America.
I touched again the deep role of "calligrapher as channel",
bringing vision into form - and the well being inherent in the task.

I also wondered - where is my Court now ?

Then I realized - it's the world. 

Here they are - offered out - enjoy . . .










Wednesday, May 15, 2019

A Frog Story

I knelt down to clean the little pond by the front door
and right there at the edge was a frog
looking straight up at me.
I paused.
It did not bolt away.
I knelt closer and said some things
about spring and welcoming
and appreciating its presence.
Then I reached out slowly
and touched its smooth forehead,
stroking it softly,
and we had a long moment of interspecies exchange.
Then I went back to cleaning the pond
and the frog went back to hiding close by.

Searching for a misplaced pump filter
I stretched my arm down to the bottom of the pond,
feeling around in the murky cold dark
and brushed up against a huge slippery frog leg.

Reaching for the net I scooped out
the biggest bullfrog I'd ever seen - dead -
eleven inches tip to toe.

Must have been the king of this spot
in charge - in place -
staying put through the winter.
But the rubber lining didn't allow for digging down in the mud
and life got colder and colder.

I laid the great grey luminous corpse in the woods under a bush.
Time to sink down truly now.


It's a new season with a new frog.
The old powers gone away.
Reaching down in the muddy depths.
Honoring what was found there.
Starting over fresh.