me & big sis becky… mirror sisters
I’ve got some beautiful (internet) friends visiting this weekend ~
I love how this medium has connected me with some of my most delicious friends ~
and that I get to have outrageous, marvellous weekends with them.
In the meantime:
I wish you pure, unadulterated joy.
May you find a caterpillar on your path.
~ loving the Dove Evolution mini movie
~ whimsical joy with kelly rae roberts art
~ the phenomenon that is http://www.iiiiiiii.com/ (turn your sound up)
~ amazing women: the century project
dreaming, mixed media artwork,
collaborative project by me & my big sister
The beautiful Swirly Girl posed the potent question:
How does blogging – whether writing your own, reading others, leaving comments, etc. – feed you?
I began reading blogs a few years ago and fell in love with the instant access to new thoughts, inspirations, movements and creations.
I live in Australia, and up until the last few years was living in a remote rural area, far removed from any “culture” or art or the excitement of inspiration. My access to it was through the slim pickings of musty old art and poetry books at our local library.
The books were many years out of date, and yet they still sparked lights inside of me. Small Chinese lanterns ablaze, drifting in the twilight. I hungered for that and longed for that. I wanted to be that : I wanted to have that : I wanted to create that : I wanted to live life like that.
When I was 20, I moved to a large city with some of Australia’s best museums, libraries and galleries. Every weekend I devoured them with my lover, saturating myself in all the newness, the colours, the promise, the ideas.
Finding the land of blogging was a similar kind of feel as that move. Whilst libraries and galleries are incredible lands to explore, they can also lack a certain freshness. Their energy can feel stilted for a few reasons – the creations contained within them are carefully selected and arranged on white walls and numbered bookshelves. The gestation period from the seedling of the artist’s first idea, formation and creation; to its editing, publishing or production; then to its eventual sale to gallery or library where it is then displayed in a collection.
When I turned onto blog reading, that same feeling of Chinese lanterns being lit in the twilight breeze was the same. Small cataclysmic sparks of possibilities. The surge of finding artists, writers, photographers, designers and souls all around this globe sharing their work with the world, unencumbered by time, distance, editing, availability. Can you imagine that – at a click, you have access to the very latest beats of inspiration. I felt great surges through me. Collages I have never seen the likes of before. Photographs so whimsically captured. Writing so honest and brave and real. Artwork so vivid and personal. You could see what others were doing, what they were inspired by, what caught their breath. You could find out their process, see what their studio looked like, how it felt to make it. You became witness to the struggle and the soaring flight of being an artist and attempting to encapsulate your highest truth. It felt real and alive, like the first glimpse of a great breathing beast in the forest.
Then, when I joined my first women’s circles, I fell in love with the goddess story. The story of each of us ~ our lives and our days, our truth and our pain. I came to see those women who surrounded me as divine and as a teacher to me. In hearing their sharings, my whole inner world changed. I grew strong. I grew to love my own truth. I collected a catalogue of stories in my heart cabinet so I could feel all of life. When life situations arose, I could look into my catalogue and remember the soul who had been there, and the way she traversed through it.
Blogging is like an extension of these women’s circles. Everyday I can read the sharings of women all over this globe of ours, travelling their journey as best as they can. We are growing together, as we speak and listen, press each other’s buttons, connect, inspire and activate. As the Chinese proverb rolls ~ When sleeping women wake, mountains move.
And when sleeping women share, we awake.
The community extends from beyond our physical landscape to those souls just like us everywhere. We uncover our own tribe and revel in our own uniqueness.
We are changing this world. Step by step, post by post, artwork by artwork, word by word, thought by thought. We are creating our own lives.
~ Share *your* experience of blogging here.
What if today
what you thought about
What if your brain waves
sent out messages to the universe
of what to create in your life?
And what if, over the next couple of days,
your ability to manifest was compounded
a million times?
what do you wish for ~
for your loved ones
for your community
for your globe?
Post here and tell me of your greatest dreams…
What world do you wish to create?
Let’s raise the light wishing energy together ~~~
Blessings and light,
More information on the 8:1:8 Cosmic gateway here.
Thought it was time again for a tour of my studio…
I’ve since moved rooms to the main bedroom at the front of the house
(so we could use the studio at the back of the house as a bedroom to watch the stars in)…
You enter the studio through “Inspiration Door” ~ whenever an image or words grabs me, I pin it up on this door… it is filled with magazine photos, painted mandalas from womens circles, doodles, photographs and poetry.
I hope when I walk through Inspiration Door I am somehow pervaded with that lifechanging light of creativity, joy and life awareness.
I’m looking forward to buying this house in January so we can get rid of the fuscia pink paint and go something more blue/purple/Leonie…
This is where I sit and look out the window and paint, draw, write and cloud*dream.
I have three desks in my studio ~ they’ve come in dribs and drabs and I couldn’t resist any of them. There is a small pine writing desk (in the right of the above photo) that I have had since I was 12. It holds special memories for me. How many hours have I dreamed upon that table?
The desk on the left was a dining table given to me by a friend when we first moved to Canberra without furniture. Once we found a new table I kept it… it’s a beautiful large wooden surface to paint on and move around.
The third table is a white foldaway (above) that I bought when I was selling artwork at markets. It somehow crept into my studio and holds all the paintings I am working on.
The walls are festooned with artwork, letters, clippings, cards, notes to self… all that takes my eye and fancy 🙂
And here’s my “crew”… my support team… my physical manifestation of spirit guides… angels, mermaids and fairies. They sit on my desk and whisper truths to me.
Life is a masterpiece but you must be the one who allows the brush to touch the canvas.
~ Tony Sinclair
You can check out more artist’s studios here.
Who am I when the lifestyle has been stripped away?
Who am I
without my lover
without my job
without the net
and the books and
the website and
Who am I without my community?
Who am I without the doing?
Who am I just with BE*ing?
Children take you right out of that ~
they make no assumptions,
they care not who I am,
but HOW I play.
They are Pleasure Kings and Queens.
While I made overcalculated doodles with chalk on the sidewalk,
a blue eyed buddha child rolled chalk between his fingers, over and over again, grinning wildly at the texture and the feeling.
While I constructed a sandcastle, another explored the sand by pouring it through their hands onto their feet, revelling in the sensation.
I tried it. It felt good.
And even now,
as I write this, I am pulled away by eager children.
We are going to paint in the grass,
and children wait for no writing.
~ journalled a couple of weeks ago