The old woman

The old woman

Sisters apply yellow beeswax paste to her smooth creamy skin

brows plucked ever so thin

deep, red etchings in her skin a symbol of ever-lasting love and no troubles

her clothes: simple, cotton — the breeze coming through

the old woman remembers the time she met her groom

in those days they were introduced as mere strangers looking at one another across the room 

a mystery the day the knot is tied 

a mystery the remain to each other

here is a new kind of love: of choice, of freedom in and of choice

the groom looks on to the bride

lusting after her among her sisters, brothers, mums, dads

the flowery embroidered cloth spreads over her

covering her

shading her from the strength of the sun

her faced covered in gluey paste

cleansing her, shedding her of the old 

the old woman looks on

tears filling her eyes

imagining the time corner-to-corner the cloth was held

protecting her from the reality: mystery man and mystery woman

the groom watches her

looks on like the day first day he met her

mystery then

mystery now




 A. Gill – July 14 – Niagra Falls, On.


spray of water

a reminder of aliveness, presence

chatters from the back chatters from the front

distractions of life

my eyes are focussed ahead

as if  alone with the falls

i feel is silence

droplets of water fall from my lashes

dripping down to the corners of my mouth

i smile with difficulty, but inside a rush of peace

the cascading falls reminds me of my personal descent below

water a symbol of the unconscious mind

the falls are submerge

i see images of words reflecting on the falls

sky is grey today

inside their is a sun

i ask the man in front “picture, please?”

i look away from the camera

i think i feel a little shy or something i dunno

just me in the single frame

i feel eternally satisfied – looking back at me: damp hair, droplets on eyes, lashes and nose

i am not bothered



Every individual is an expression of the whole realm of nature, a unique action of the total universe. This fact is rarely, if ever, experienced by most individuals. Even those who know it to be true in theory do not sense or feel it, but continue to be aware of themselves as isolated “egos” inside bags of skin. – Alan Watts 

reflections July 7th Toronto

The bench

Every morning it is the same suit

His head down, sleeping the afternoon away

The same suit day after day

Something about a suit that makes a man feel accomplished, as if he has made it – even if it were out the door on a rainy day…

A reminder that he woke up another day, dressed, bathed, suited

An accomplishment

In his pocket a stack of letters weighing him down – unpaid bills

Whose bills?

No bills to pay bills

Beside him a worn, black leather bag with handle falling to the side

His beard grown long, lop sided

A bag to go with his suit —- papers exposed and stuffed…. as if important thoughts were gathered on each sheet

That suit sometime from the 70’s

Day after day

He rises

He sleeps

He has important papers


It’s important

reflections July 4th Toronto


“Love all, serve all” reads the Hardrock cafe sign

Love all, serve all

an anguished expression, a frustration, a bearded man wears a tattered brown jacket and matching hat. too warm for today

struggling with the sleeve just like a 3 year-old learning to put on the jacket

looking back he grabs the sleeve, but it seems to escape him… again… frustrated…

if only he could he see what was behind him would have known what would be in front of him 

a well dressed boy with blue and red polka dot bow tie maybe 4 years of age looks over

he walks at the edge of the side walking testing his father’s patience

shirt too tight

a man walking towards him. shirt too tight. suit very new. briefcase in hand. cell phone. nattering away like the homeless man on street.

homeless man makes sense if they’d only listen. THIS suited man, natters away natters away….

boy wonders if this is his fate – a shirt too tight, doesn’t fit…natters away

almost steps into puddle, avoids as dad’s eyes glance

father looks over, proudly

this my boy

button falls from his sleeve

boy notices…light catching the button like they were expensive pearls on woman’s neck

dad is too busy looking at the tower… that’s my boy… that’s my boy

boy looks back the button


gone away

he smiles




People, like plants and trees, grow according to their own inner clock as well as in relationship to outer seasons in each of our lives and to pay attention to dreams and synchronistic events that will help us grow in an organic way. – Jean Shinoda Bolen, “The Tao of Psychology Synchronicity and the Self”  



“In order for couples to remain interested in one another, they require distance, transgression, surprise, and play. We must be able to stand back from our partners, to view them as separate, mysterious people, for them to remain objects of our desire.” –  Esther Perel, “Mating in Captivity: Unlocking Erotic Intelligence”



Botanical Garden – A. Gill – June 30, 2014

Excerpt from “Please Understand Me II” p. 144…

The paradox of the idealist: they are themselves only if they are searching for themselves, and they would cease being themselves if they ever found themselves.

Siddhartha (Buddha) tries to explain this contradiction between seeking and finding to his friend Govinda, a Buddhist monk who has spent his life searching for himself. It might be, Siddhartha tells him, that:

‘you seek too much, that as a result of your seeking you cannot find’

“How is that?”, asked Govinda

‘When someone is seeking,’ said Siddhartha, ‘it happens quite easily… that he is unable to find anything, unable to absorb anything, because he is only thinking of the thing he is seeking, because he has a goal, because he is obsessed with his goal. Seeking means: to have a goal, but finding means: to be free, to be receptive, to have no goal.