When the sun is just so …

On the way to work each day, I pass this concrete construction. I try to just walk on by and not look, not take any images. But at certain times of the day, when the sun is just so, it illuminates this rundown place. It becomes golden. I try and capture this transformation. And even though I’m an artists on hiatus for the next few months, I can’t help but itch this creative spot, can’t help but point the iPhone and shoot.

I’m interested in how this develops over the next few months as I continue to walk by. I’m interested enough to start looking into these buildings further. There are people living here in the flats either side of this glass enclosure. But this linking section seems rundown, vandalised and why is it there if not to allow a thoroughfare? Decoration, a special design feature?

This is a little golden nugget which will keep me going during the long, tiring days of work. A little creative well upon which I can draw inspiration and energy from. Please keep checking back and see the process.

Dreaming of Iceland

I’ve started a portfolio for Iceland. It seems an age since I was last there, but I am making plans to return. Bubbling under the surface of everything else that is happening in my life, is the body memory of how I felt while I was there. How I felt I opened up like blossom  to who I really was inside. That I thrived on the silence and solitude and the beauty of the landscape. Some how the serenity and honesty of the landscape, reflected something inside me. I recognised myself there, and I want to capture that feeling again as well as replicate it here, in my every day life.

How is the question?
I need to return to find out.

On My Way

I love starting new projects. Even more so when I say to myself that I’m on hiatus from any kind of creativity. But sometimes that itch comes along that you just have to scratch.

While working full-time, on my way I pass, in my opinion, some iconic buildings; a housing estate that speaks to my soul. I have taken to photographing these blocks of flats, more so, a single glass passageway which links one block of flats to another. This glass corridor seems to be neglected, blocked off from the flats either side. Windows have been broken, chip boards are up at others. But it definitely appears to not be in use.

Until this week, when I noticed doors either side open. Had they always been open? Did I fail to notice this?

Bear with me as I attempt to find out more about these buildings, this area through further research and reading. As I said I do enjoy starting new projects. This one, I have no way of knowing where it will lead. I just know that I am enjoying the process and progress.

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘Super Flats’ continued

Dancing the Dream 

Dancing the Dream – the seven sacred paths of human transformation, by Jamie Sams

This is the new book I’m reading at the the moment. And I’m trying to take my time, to savour it and let the lessons sink in. But it’s not going that way. Every page that I’m reading, I’m nodding my head in recognition of the wisdom, of the truths that are being mentioned in terms of the energy that connects us all together. Our thoughts, feelings, judgements, our internal landscapes create our outside worlds. If these are full of negativity, this is the energy we are putting out into the world. And what goes around comes around. We are all connected. We are all one.

I made a promise to myself while reading this book to not write any notes. To just absorb the initiations. I intend to go back and reread the book after this first reading and actively work with the lessons. So this post is me marking this promise and making sure I follow through on it. Thank you.

The Big Smoke

There’s no place like London. I was down there for a couple of days again last week. A flying visit you could say.

I caught up with an old friend from Uni. I love that we are still close friends and that we’ve been through so much together. We don’t live in each others pockets, and sometimes we have gone years without seeing each other. But when the chips are down, we know we can count on each other. We have always been there for each other. I am so very grateful for this friendship and unconditional love.

While in London, I took in a few exhibitions. It’s been a while since I’ve been to the National Portrait Gallery at Trafalgar Square, so I popped in there for a few hours. I didn’t pay for any of the visiting shows, as there’s far too much to see in the permanent exhibitions.

I was so inspired by what I saw. I was taken through British history through the portraits of Kings and Queens, writers, artist, movers and shakers of each time. There is more to come out of this visit. I am allowing the ideas to percolate in their own time. But I felt my ignorance of British history while in there. And I think this stems from a feeling of not belonging in Britain. Feeling unwelcome here as well as rejecting my British heritage also.

I found walking around, looking at these faces a newfound pride and interest in what made this country the way it is today. And I know my ancestors, black and white had a hand in these developments.
I look forward to exploring this rich vein of knowledge and activities further through my reading, writing and photography. I am excited about what will unfold.

Sundays 

wildsoulwoman says: Some Sunday’s are made for just chillin’ with the peeps. Can’t believe the summer holidays are almost over and then back to work. Trying to stay in each moment and squeeze out every last ounce of pleasure and joy. Back in the sea with Miss Ella yesterday and she said how grateful she was for her family. She’s 6 and has so much to teach me. I’m paying attention 🙂

Night Marriage, Lowlands Estate, 1791.

‘Let’s feel what the Massa sees in you,’
he whispers,
like a snake’s belly on hard sand.
He takes me in.
His rough stubble tears at my thighs,
as greedy palms, with raised moons,
kneed my belly. His smell is
stale sweat mingled with
the heavy wet perfume of dirt
turned over with my hoe.
His high shiny leather riding
boots are still on.

from: The White of the Moon (2007-8)

Poetry

Nearing the end of summer

It doesn’t feel like six weeks ago we broke up for the summer holidays from school.
We were so looking forward to the break, to having the time to just chill and function to the beat of our own drum rather than to some school timetable.

We have had a good time. Going out as a family, spending quality time with each other. But there’s always that nagging doubt that says, could we have done more? I especially get this feeling when I’m knee deep in winter, battling through the family and household schedules, juggling work commitments and making ends meet. Oh I wish it was summer again!

I have spent a lifetime wishing my life away and/or wishing it back. Holding off doing something, living until a certain event or date happens. Or looking back at events and happenings, wishing I’d done then differently. Wishing them back to redo.

What happens to the present moments, times and events while I’m in other time modes?

Well, they are present but go unnoticed. Go unmarked. Go unfulfilled. That’s a waste. They are missed opportunities of creative life force. Of positive energy. Of living.

So into the last week of the summer holidays, I’m going to try and not wish the time away by thinking of getting back into the school routine. And I’m not going to wallow in regrets of we should have done more with our time off. What is, is. That’s life. And I’m grateful for that.

From the WSW vault: Trust

October 2015:

“Fuck. It was bound to come up. Trust. I have issues with trust. Ever since I found out my dad was dying only when he was actually dead, I’ve had trouble with trust. My mum and dad thought it best not to tell us kids that our dad was dying. To protect us. So when I found out it was already too late. He was dead and I felt betrayed.

I do not give my trust lightly. You betray my trust and you’re gone out of my life. Simple as that. But it isn’t that simple. Trust is about feeling safe and putting yourself out there with someone else. It’s about being vulnerable, wanting to protect oneself at the same time as taking a risk, moving out of oneself. It’s leaning in and out at the same time.

I’ve always been able to say I can trust myself. Until now. Now I’m not too sure about myself. If my actions are carried out for the right reasons, with the right intentions?

I’m at the edge of an abyss. At the edge of my existence as I have known it. And I now I have to take the leap into the new but can I trust myself in the fall?

I know it’s about love. Love of myself. There has to be the space to allow myself to fall. To know in the fall that I can still breathe, still live and will find my footing again. It’s about accepting that I am not in control and probably never was or will be. It is about trusting in the unknown. Trusting that I will be alright, that everything will be all right. I just have to trust the process. I just have to trust in me.”