Friday, May 04, 2007

Arise, it is Spring

Oh my Lemurian Abbey are you really here waiting for me! But alas! Time has stopped and spring has not burst forth on the Abbey grounds. Unless it is only me that is not seeing. Seems that the bluebells should be swaying by now. Have I left you lying fallow for too long, my sweet Lemuria? Dare I now dream again of you until my believing causes you to awaken? If there was a hope that I would cling to, it would be you.

Your Loving, Wayward child, Tren

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Charkra Cross


This image has been given to me during my meditations and whoever gave it has been 'bugging me' to create it and get it seen for quite a few months now. I'm not a very good artist as you can all see!

Along with the two extra ear charkra's at each side of the cross (either side of the third eye charkra) it shows our seven charkra's.

I like how the charkra's being contained within the cross links our charkra's to our spiritual growth. As the cross has been identified with the spiritual path/growth for quite some time, it seems almost 'natural' that these to should identify with each other.
 Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Mouse, Cat, Dog...

300brave mousey



a few moments in the afternoon with some of my favourite mammals

Sunday, November 12, 2006

Come take a walk with me...

NIGHTWALK

At night it is always a walking meditation.

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Sparrow Girl - New Stuff

sg-titlesAside from adding a Sparrowgirl afepress shop (www.cafepress.com/sparrowgirl), as well as having written some new stories. More finalized watercolour illustrations have started replacing the placeholder sketches.

stories at www.aletta.org/sparrowweb01.shtml
 

Thursday, October 19, 2006

another sparrow girl story

 the night the refinery blew up

Sparrow Girl – The Night the Refinery Blew Up

There are certain sounds you wake up to feeling inexplicably fearful and sickened. Long before knowing the why’s of it your stomach is already in great big knots. Very few events in my life had prepared me for waking up like this. In that split moment of waking up from what was my first experience with concussion from an explosion I had nothing on which to base my fear other than just knowing instinctively that this was a very, very bad thing. Before that split second was over I had already called out to my mother.

posted at www.sparrows.wordpress.com

Sunday, October 15, 2006

My illustrated home

Oh happy day! My home has been featured in a major newspaper today.

Sadly though, the online article does not include photographs that the actual article features so I've uploaded jpgs of what the article chose to include.


Except for the part where I've been described as someone who dabbles in mixed media art -I've never in my dabbled in anything. I always jump in with my clothes on, into the water, so to speak, you see. Iam for the record, a multi media artist because I work in various media to create a tangible perceivable version of my concepts. Unless the definition for a multi-media artist changed while I wasn't looking, I am and will probably always be a multi-media artist. Be that as it may, I'm pleased with it. Thank you Me-an!
This is not the same jpg that was used in the news paper article. Me-an removed all traces of human habitation from it. I don't mind showing my everyday clutter to the rest of you so here's an uncensored, cluttered photo of my kitchen. This scan of the journal entree about the building where my flat is was done before I added words on the background. I'll upload a jpg with the text later. Like my flat, all my pages seem to be eternally in progress.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

New Journal Pages, New Zit and Other Profundities

I still haven't figured out how to have my jpgs appear with my blog entries in my wordpress blog. I'm a bit uninhibited in writing my entries there. Probably because I know no one is really reading it because I haven't promoted its url. Crazy, really!

Anyhow I've ended up making these pages in "The True & The Questions" journal by Sabrina instead of making a piece on "peace." I meant to do that but these pages are what spilled out of me today so here they are.


Now I'm beginning another page in that journal again and I've begun to add more text on this page but I'm too lazy to take another picture so you won't see the new stuff I've added on it until I've done so.

Bugger! I've sprouted another zit just now. I've been eating this vegan ham made of seaweed and soy all week. Soy gives me zits due to its high fat content. For those of you who aren't vegans you don't know the value of eating vegan ham despite the fact that it gives you zit because it really tastes like spam. Glorious!

Moving on. I just realized that this "The True & The Questions" journal, is really about making lists and that I've been a listmaker most of my adult life. I remember making lists using the typewriter when I was in college. Being a procrastinator, lists are my way of dealing with my inequities in following through with what I start. Being an arian, I'm big on starting new things but I'm not good in the finishing department. This is actually what I've begun to write in the margins of "My worries" page and the page after that.

Making lists is like an exercise in self-commitment. Once I've listed it down my internal gears have no other recourse but to set out to complete the task enumerated therein. No matter how much time it takes I don't throw out the list until I've done so. Otherwise I just carry over the unfinished task in a new list.

Its really an obsessive compulsion. Can you tell? Hah! You've found me out eh? Right. On to my lists then.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Moving to Refurbished Abbey

Alchemy

The lights will be dimming here as we all move to the newly refurbished Abbey. If you are not able to post at the WordPress based Abbey please let me know and I will sign you in. The Abbess is very excited about the prospect of filling up those new monastic cells with fascinating people from all walks of life.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Happy Birthday Heather!

Medieval scholars were amazed to find that, when roughly translated, this richly adorned manuscript read:

"In centuries to come, there will be a woman who inspires many and brings forth their creativity from within. She will use her unique talent on a marvelous invention called the Internet so she might reach out to those far from her as if she were in the same room. Her name will be Heather and this is a birthday greeting to her in the future."


Happy Birthday Heather and thank you for all your inspiration!

Happy Birthday, Heather



Happy Birthday, Heather.
With all best wishes and love from Carol

Happy Birthday From Duwamish Bay!



TO HEATHER,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FROM DUWAMISH BAY
AND FROM ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS AT
THE CHAMBER OF HORRORS
OWL CREEK BRIDGE
AND
DEADWOOD HALL

NONE OF US WOULD BE HERE WITHOUT YOU HEATHER!
LOVE FROM
ANITA MARIE

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Raven At The Tea Party

"Happy Birthday Enchanteur!"
copyright Imogen Crest 2006.

Friday, August 25, 2006

Enchanteur's Afternoon Tea for my Birthday

LunaBirthday

le Enchanteur has been cooking up a storm and has made a cake and afternoon tea for my birthday. Since she has been working her fingers to the bone she told me that I better make sure to invite everyone to come to tea.

Friday, August 18, 2006

Croath Head: September

Midnight; the sea surged calm,
Early morning ferocity
Stilled.
My heart beat with the rhythm
Of gentle waves
And the anger within
Washed itself away
As I stared, amazed
At depths rolling shoreward
In peace.

When sea and skyline meet and merge
Beyond sight
We look sometimes to life
Eternal
And well beyond the day just gone.

I saw it all that night;
In a moment of quiet I heard the breeze;
Moon and lamplight cast long shadows
As I walked toward the harbour wall
And sorrow left me.
Salt, white and crystal cleansed my soul;
The sea beckoned in whispers:
I saw the far horizon -
And lost myself.

Jan

Why?

Would it seem weird to the human race if the trees started growing sideways just because we’ve only ever previously seen them grow towards the heavens?

Is that why, when we see someone who hates life we look down on them, like they’re pathetic? Like they have a problem? Like it’s their fault that they don’t fit in the world? Just because they hate life, we look at them with disrespect and disgust?

Why isn’t it the people who like life with the problem? Why aren’t the people who hate life looking down on those who love it with disrespect, disgust, anger? Life cannot exist without death, and death cannot exist without life. Without death, there would be nothing to inspire anyone to live. Without life, there could be no death.

Why don’t we view those that hate life with respect? Respect that they have different views from those we deem normal? We are just getting over racism and sexism, though we still have a long way to go, why cant we stop stereotyping those who have no emotion in their eyes? Those who wish there was another world for them to escape to? Those who do not belong? Those who were born wishing for another world just for them?

Why will someone always think they’re better then anyone else? Why will they make everyone suffer just for them? Why can someone be broken down so many times by someone, and have no one else care? Why, then, do we hate them and look down upon them when we didn’t bother to help them back up after we have watched them fall so many times, watch them scream in anguish as their very souls cry out? Why will when someone is so in need of help turn away from them, in their hour of need, and walk away whistling along the street?

Why then will that person who walked away one day cry out like those they had walked away from, with no care but to helped, thinking they are deserving. Why will a person who beat someone periodically cry out against someone beating them, or a family member or their child? When they had beaten someone’s family member? Someone’s child? Why will a rapist plead for mercy from the death sentence or jail, when they are guilty? When they have no reason to be receiving mercy from any.

Why will a country, a world cry out against terrorism when people die everyday from people? In car accidents? Where drunken fiends get away with murder, simple because of human folly, when we would all condemn those terrorists in less than a second? And why don’t we all cry out about war? All the wars that have past have claimed millions of lives that wanted nothing more than to settle with their families to live a life. A life that didn’t include having to go to war for some sick leader. Are those who condemn others to war really justified? What right do they have to murder thousands for an insult to themselves? If war was nothing more than politicians fighting, there would be no wars. For all politicians do is sit and plot, moving humans like chess pieces in their sick games.

And yet why when faced with a simple answer and a complicated one will humans opt generally for the simpler one? Why will we lie and cheat, deceive and plot all to ease our own suffering? Why in doing so will we not bother to notice the effects it has on those around us? Why when asked a simple question will we lie so that the other person doesn’t think us stupid? Or irresponsible? Or disgusting? Or shameful? Are we so vain and shallow that we will risk destruction for everyone around us just for our own selves? And when we hear of those that are hero’s and martyrs that we automatically put them on a pedestal above ourselves, when all they have done is redeem themselves for themselves? When they have made at least one persons life a little worse than it was? Why do we think they haven’t sinned? Why are politicians so quick on the uptake to say they were brave and almighty, though they mentioned not how the situations could have been avoided, or how at the time they were doing nothing more than bickering over nothing?

Yet there is and isn’t a simple answer. For me it seems that we are doomed to forever misuse the gifts we have. For we will use the brain we were gifted with to plot and commit crimes, with no thought to killing or hurting others. Men will misuse their bodies, and instead of protecting women with their physical superiority, abuse us, though we have born them through the ages. People will misuse power, and the gift to lead, all for the sake of their own greed. It is sickening and yet it goes unpunished. As I write, or speak, and others listen or read a thousand people are crying out for help. Half of those will never find it. Half of those will die. Half of those will wish for something more. Maybe those spat on, being disrespected, disregarded, shamed will ask themselves one day, maybe the trees should grow sideways. Maybe then the world will change.
Dancing on the edge of the blade of consistent life.

Dark Fool
Emily-Rae Temple
“Show me someone who hasn’t sinned, nor committed a crime against any, or spoken out against any, or hurt any by word or any other means, show me this person and I will show you the heavens.”

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

for Jan

Stone bridge

The fields are bare and bleak, quiet, still;
Trees bereft of leaves, black bark, stoical;
Past the farmer's house and barns just a short walk
Along the rutted lane you can listen to the river swell,
And hear the sparrows chirrup, searching food.

At the stone bridge you have to fold your arms,
Lean forward, look over at the water, even though
The winter cold seeps through scarf and gloves;
You jump and stamp your feet, breathe warm air
Into your hands, watch twigs and leaves
Make their way down stream.

In the distance muffled cars and lorries
Go about their business, chase from one town
To the next.
Real life goes on, it stops for no one:
But here, now, at the stone bridge,
Looking way into the distance,
Hearing sparrows, watching water,
Solitary, alone with my thoughts -
Where does it begin and end, real life?
Bleak fields, chirrups, rustling of bushes;
All the real I need.


Jan

Monday, August 14, 2006

Snapshot

The autumn frost glistens and the breeze is sharp,
I watch late afternoon slip into dusk and breathe deep;
How I adore to see the frenzied fall of leaves swirling,
Clash - red, orange, shrieking lemon.
My body shivers from the cold but in the musky air
I smell a garden bonfire - feel alive.

Jan

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Abbey Talismans - Soul Food Hermitage Store

image copyright Heather Blakey 2006.