creativity

There are no ‘lazy days’

| Sheree

Do lazy days make you feel rested or unproductive?

This morning’s gratitude

It’s been a bit hit and miss here over the last few weeks as I’ve been busy, walking and resting.

There are no lazy days. Saying a person is having a lazy day is such a imperialist, capitalist, white supremacy patriarchy judgement.

Our value does not come from how busy we are, how productive we are or how hard we hustle.

I’m done with that mentality and practice and conditioning.

I’m been resting up after my 96 miles hike for the lowlands to the highlands of Scotland and have felt no guilt or made any excuses for it. I’m luxuriated in the inactivity.

Rest is a weapon as I’ve said before. Rest is pushing back against a system which was set up not for my survival but destruction.

Rest is a Revolution. So while I write my morning pages from bed, cradling a hot coffee and a sugared ring donut, I creatively plot my next move in chipping away for the dismantling of the system.

This includes another coffee and another page of dreaming. I’m not lazing, I’m not having a lazy day, I’m creating friction, rebellion, freedom.

The Devil’s Staircase Awaits

| Sheree
Kingshouse, Highlands of Scotland

Today is my birthday and it dawned bright here in the Highlands. The sun has been dancing across the peaks of the Glencoe mountains but the rain and wind has followed soon after.

I wait to set off walking today. Alex is injured. A scar of a former wound has become infected and it’s touch and go if he can walk today. But the deal is if he can’t I go on.

I wait to see what happens.

Today is a short day of walking just over 8 miles but no doubt still a hard day as we attempt the Devil’s Staircase. The highest point on the West Highland Way (550m)which has claimed lives in the past as the navvies building the reservoir in Kinlochleven would take this route at night after drinking over this side and would get lost and perish in the mountains.

Nowadays, there’s a well defined path and hopefully we’ll be up and down before the light fades.

We will see. And here comes the sun again!

Water falling, falling water, waterfall

| Sheree

My study for day 4 on the West Highland Way is waterfalls. Water has been a reoccurring theme on this journey in more ways than one. with the Loch being flooded in parts, with amber weather warnings of more rain and flooding, rivers and brooks swelling with all this excess water, well there’s no getting away from it all. Water water everywhere. But I’m not complaining because it need refreshing and eventful and a different walk this time around. I’m grateful to be here and to be blessed with each and every waterfall. All different and unique in their own way.

Take High Road

Loch Lomond

| Sheree

The calming waters of Loch Lomond graced us as we walked yesterday. After heavy rainfall over the weekend, the Loch was swollen and flooded the West Highland Way in parts.

It’s funny how that can be a cause for concern in terms of getting wet but then not thinking twice about stripping off and getting the whole body wet for a dip!

It was so worth it though.

Is it a Selkie?

Saturday Mornings

| Sheree

When I was growing up, I loved Saturday mornings.

No school, even though I loved school. I had the whole weekend ahead of me with all that time to create.

It started off well, as dad would bring us breakfast in bed. It would be crackers and jam. I’ve written before about this special ritual and how I took it as a sign of love from my dad; him the strict Trinidadian who showed his roar more times that his smile.

After breakfast, we could get up and play in our bedroom, keeping the noise down as mum and dad had a lie in. I would create the magic wishing chair from Enid Blyton’s books. I would fly away to all these magical lands, where I’d meet welcoming characters and interesting animals who couldn’t wait to get to know me. With them I was the main attraction. They listened to my stories and cheered me on as I went on adventures into the forest or up a mountain. There was no place my imagination couldn’t take me.

And then I grew up. Dad died, my whole life changed and I put away my dolls and adventures as I attempted to traverse the rough terrain of middle school as the only black girl there. Only black, and fat girl there who had her period and was seen as an oddity at best!

More stories there to tell. But this morning, this Saturday morning, I wake with this same sense of expansive time ahead of me to create. To crave out my own adventures on my own terms. And this feeling brings me a whole heap of joy and excitement. As I can’t go wrong if I’m feeding my creativity; turning up to the page open.

I haven’t had crackers and jam this morning but the thought of it is making my mouth water. I’ve got the ingredients in ( cream crackers and cherry jam). I’d have to make them myself as I’ve got no one to make them for me to serve me in bed. But even that thought doesn’t dampen my spirits because I have the time and space to choose. I have the privilege and luxury to stretch out the decision around what I do or be next.

I’m obsessed with how creativity works. I’m obsessed with how my creativity works. This is what I wrote in my visual journal this morning. And it landed in my core. In my core centre. This is honesty. This makes me smile. This what I will continue to explore, for a lifetime.

Late Blooms

| Sheree

You know me. I love me some autumn. But these past few days while walking out daily, I’ve been enjoying the last blooms of summer.

Especially those hydrangeas. I love me some hydrangeas.

The blousy bouncy full blooms of these flowers make my heart sing. So much beauty in such a compact space makes me swoon.

What’s your favourite flower?

Ramble

| Sheree

How often do we allow ourselves to just ramble?

Ramble. I’m looking at the dictionary, it means to walk for pleasure in the countryside. Or to talk at length in a confused, inconsequential way. Or in the case of plants for them to send out long shoots in all directions and take over the place.

For me, all three definitions makes me think of aimlessly wandering with no direction or objective or task in mind. Just moving, and taking joy in that simple pleasure.

As I notice the slow and subtle changes in the seasons, as the dregs of summer linger and yet the nights are drawing in with a chill, I take the time to get outdoors and ramble. Yes in nature if I can get it, through a park, forest or along the shoreline. Or just around my suburban streets, as there are still plenty gardens in bloom.

Wandering without clock watching, or rushing from one place to other, is a luxury I’m in no hurry to give up or compromise on because it always lifts my spirits, reminds me I’m alive and what a beautiful gift life is.

Adrift in the wonderness, adrift in that carefree feeling and breathing of a ramble is so much more bountiful at this time of year, my favourite time of year, autumn. Blink and I’m afraid I could miss the glorious display of colours; golds, oranges and reds, and textures; those damp silky mushrooms, to the slinky, slick wet leaves.

I tell a lie. Plants don’t ramble without a purpose. That’s me projecting. When a plant shoots out roots, shoots and branches anywhere and everywhere, it’s not the case of anywhere and everywhere, because they are seeking out light. They are bramble rambling into space and light. They are on a mission. And this I salute. Because when I ramble I’m seeking that same lightness. In spirit, in mood, in physicality. I want to be the light. I want to be light.