Sunday, 21 May 2017

Deeper, Quieter,



A little extra blog post to make up for my absence in March and April...

Dotted amongst this valley of farms and forestry are a scattering of Fringe dwellers, a congregation of Creatives mixed with a medley of madness as delightful as any of Alice's underground Wonderland creatures.

It seems that art thrives in this environment. Our tiny community in the hills regularly holds beautiful exhibitions and music events. The remoteness somehow seems to add to the magic as travelers' find unexpected beauty and talent within our tiny hidden population in the hills.

 There is an otherworldly quality to this place a special blend of earthly and ethereal, something deeper and quieter, a peace that travels within all things, an underlying sacredness in everything 

I have always been receptive to the beautiful stillness within some religious artworks. The religion itself didn't seem to matter - only the artworks ability to emanate a deep sense of quietness that somehow soothed the space it sat in.











So now, very tentatively, I am beginning to merge my fascination with religious art and combine it with the other things that speak to my heart. In all honesty I have no idea where it will go or if it will touch other people.  I think my main hope might be that the images will communicate some sense of depth and quietness and maybe a sense of reverence for this precious human life and all that it entails. 
















A translation of a poem originally by Rainer Maria Rilke

You darkness from which I come,
I love you more than all the fires
that fence out the world,
for the fire makes a circle
for everyone
so that no one sees you anymore.
But darkness holds it all:
the shape and the flame,
the animal and myself,
how it holds them,
all powers, all sight —

and it is possible: its great strength
is breaking into my body.
I have faith in the night



David Whyte


To be happy is to live as the unknown.

An inquiry question from a book called 
The Way of Liberation
by
Adyashanti


Monday, 8 May 2017

The Philosophy of Pottering

Many apologies for having missed the last two months blog posts. Life turned a page and I found myself in an amazing and wonderful new chapter. 

I now share The Old Burrow with a truly beautiful soul.  I feel so blessed to be able to entwine this life with another. There is something about a union between two that creates a third entity with a power all of its own.   

The creativity and wonders that emerge from such a place fill me with such a light and joyful curiosity that it is difficult not to let the mind and the imagination run wild. Ideas are flowing freely, tools are being brandished so you may well see some of our combined creative pieces here in the future. But for now here is a little more of what has been happening at the easel...


Time is a funny thing, the more you try to squeeze into it the less gets done. The to do list grows longer and society continues to condition us to fear all sorts of dreadful consequences if we don't act immediately or at least very soon please! Which, in the end creates more stress and slows everything down and reduces the quality of everything I do. In all honesty I'm tired of it - I've been tired of it for quite some time.

And then I noticed that on the one day a week that I gave myself off (Sunday) I more than occasionally got more done than usual. 

'Pottering about' has kind of an effortless flow to it. It is driven by a contented doing and the results are a peaceful mind and quite often productivity of some kind or other too.

Pottering by its nature is always open to patches of spontaneous loafing. Guilt free lounging around - a kind of quiet contemplation that fuels the next episode of pottering. The two weave beautifully together and in this playful and relaxed mix somehow more gets done.

My only problem was that either side of Sunday were days that had stressful to do lists, emails with urgent requests threatening dire consequences and all other manner of fear led demands via some form of technology.

So one morning I told my Husband ( Oh how lovely it is to be able to say that ), that I was so sick of feeling stressed that I was thinking of re-naming everyday Sunday. And his response was " Yes, let's have eight Sundays a week!"

Happy Sunday!