I ponder this world filled with opposing opposites.
What seemed true is now false and vice versa. I can sometimes feel powerlessness to the degradation to our beautiful earth. I have also noticed a plethora of media events or products pop into my inbox, all tailored to my interests. It seems coincidental, even synchronized. I worry my privacy is an illusion.
Manifestation is directly linked to the yearning in ones soul. If one “intends” using right thinking, manifestation results.
Our media technology is using similar principals, our searches are ‘planting’ our deepest thoughts seemingly ‘synchronized’ in front of our noses. My research reveals artificial intelligence is so intricately woven into the fabric of everyone’s life that some believe a computer knows ‘you’ more than you know yourself! Continue reading →
By an escape artist
Floatsom and Jetsom, my life balances between glimps of calm abiding and wonders of the world. In awe of just about everything, easily distracted with curious founds, lost treasures…happily I surrender into wonder of the uniqueness in each moment.
Why just today I captured a moment while reading a note from my gallery. Lost in the magic of connection, my mind scans the events that brought together a prize!
So much gratitude for the people in my life I rub shoulders with, perhaps to get the fairy dust on me too! This spiral of life right this moment glitters with a finery clearing my vision quest, bifocal merge to view my escape artist world. Continue reading →
Giving rise to kind loving action to our lives and the life of the world
sending love, a legacy to the world
I was recently asked to give an endorsement on a book just published. It gave rise to much introspection. A children’s book with delightful illustrations visually augmenting the written message. Kim Tebbutt, Children’s Author, articulates love, sending and receiving love around the world. Continue reading →
Traveling by train from Vancouver to Toronto several weeks ago gave plenty of time to contemplate my next series of paintings. Four days, four nights on the rail. The jostling became pleasantly monotonous, soothing as my iron horse carriage provides a homey comfort. My cozy roomette a 5x7foot space is compacted in stainless steel. A sink, toilet and seat by day and bed pull down at night. A full window is my cornea to visually feast on Canada. One wondrous night snuggled under warm duvet I witness the Northern lights shimmering for hours over icy prairie as we race across northern Alberta and Saskatchewan. The grand plan played its light show, energy pulsed to its tune. I witness more magic than can be imagined as time disappeared.
Shunting rail tracks for priority freight I hardly notice as nocturnal dream merges with real, blurred edges I drift, become the experience.click Sound, motion, colour, fill in space I hardly know the difference. My daytime mediation routine deepens, quickened to the tempo of constant motion I notice my contemplative experience fuzz. The edge of any reality I might believe of it’s solid nature become illusionary.
Surrender, Grace, Focus, Wonder
Living life this way is a blessing
A few years ago walking home from the beach I hear a loud voice tell me to stop, turn and look across the harbour to homes on the edge of the sea, it’s the voice of my grandmother. Demanding, firm, wise and loving, for years I listen to her council and am comforted by her presence.
“You will live there in the end house on the point of land facing that tiny Grace islet”
A series of dreams deepens the message from grandmother as she takes me to the house and shows me living within.
A year later I meet a woman, friend of the deceased owner of this house who asks if I want to see inside. Lovely experiences like this often come my way. We had just sold our small farm property and were about to leave on a two month painting retreat in France.
With Grandmothers insistence I contacted the inheritor, perhaps he would rent it to us on our return from France.
He amazingly said yes! and gave us a two year lease. We left for France, our belongings safe in our new home waiting for our occupancy on return. I begin in earnest to ask grandmother why was it so important to live in this house.
Fulfilling instructions a dream gives is sometimes difficult.
My connection to spirit fuel my paintings, they are threads that weave into the enormous web of life. Dreams speak loud. Will I fulfill the life contract I am asked to express, be the hollow reed, embrace the illumination I am gifted. Each choice matters each choice shapes the character of who I am. Each choice resonates for all to feel.
I merge into five days of intense hands on learning and fulfillment, making a physical manifestation of a dream that had come to me months before.
Under the wings of a master goldsmith I fashion a brooch that represent experiences I have, dreams over the past year ask to come to life.
My medium is usually paint on paper. But more is asked of me. I stretch my comfort to fabricate these visions and meaning into a brooch.
Martin Ebbers, a German master goldsmith with over thirty years of award winning excellence accepted me into studio. From 10- 6pm for five days he coaches me on the alchemy of molten metal.
Winter 2015 the American South West calls. I search for warmth and quiet time to ponder new paintings and stories.
We allot three weeks away to drive some of the spectacular California coast between Carmel and Santa Barbara, settle for ten days in Palm Desert for sun, swim, yoga and reading, then to slowly make our way back home to Salt Spring Island. It becomes a leisurely drive of deep conversation, spawned by thought provoking pod casts. An awesome drive for the natural beauty that evokes silence and wonder.
The Oregon countryside is green rolling lush with tucked in farms, grazing sheep and cattle. The vistas to Mount Shasta, its majesty clearly defined sends shivers of remembrances for previous dreams triggered by this energy vortex. This time is no exception as reverie swallows me, I travel into the snow capped mountain to visit the Crystal Cave with towers of milky calcite lite from an inner source. A resonance sends chills down my spine. Drip drip, liquid lime echoes past me down a black corridor. At the cave entrance Lake Shasta is many meters below. Steep sloped muddy bank meet a flattened lake a shadow of its former self. My lucid dream fades as our drive Continue reading →