Even though the last few days have been full on with the house move ( and we haven’t finished yet), I am pleased to say that I have managed to find the time and space within each day to stop and admire my surroundings. I can recall moments of stillness when I have been present; catching myself smiling into the season, noticing the changing light, sensing the coming chill. Relishing the ruby richness of the berries.
It really has been a gift to experience these moments of clarity, these moments of bliss in the sheer speed of passing time, and the sheer frenzy of activities.
Time is running out in terms of getting the house cleared as well as for my favourite season being here in all her golden edges.
Tonight while driving back from the council dump, high up in the sky in front of me is a sliver of the moon. She moves out from the dark, slowly revealing a pale silver cheek. I feel blessed in so many ways, to be living this life now. Thank you.
authenticsheshe
Peace
Ordinary Things
There are three slender things that support the world; the slender stream of cow’s milk into a pail; the slender blade of green corn in the ground; the slender thread running over the hands of a skilled woman. – ancient Irish triad.
A recent book I picked up is The Celtic Spirit: Daily Meditations for thr Turning of the Year, by Caitlin Matthews. The quote above is featured for today, 22 October.
Within the Celtic world, the cow is important. It is a unit of wealth along with grains used to make the daily bread. Before the industrial revolution, all clothing was made by hand. Labour intensive procedures carried out by the women of the household took the unwashed wool, into spinning, into creating the fine linen cloth to wear next to the skin of all the family.
Foodstuff, grain and material; three ordinary things that support any society in it’s existence. To survive.
Today’s meditation ends with the question, What three ordinary things are the supporters of your life? Make your own personal triad.
Only when the question is asked do I consider what are the essentials for my existence. Ordinary things on a day to day basis I probably take for granted. But when I stop and consider it, I may not be thinking of them every single minute of the day but I know what I am grateful for, especially during this period of change; personal and seasonal, when things are dying but only for new life to be born. In time.
My personal triad, those three clear notes that resonate throughout all I do in life are: water, within and without; creativity feeding my body, mind and soul; and love that wraps around me for myself and for/from others that makes sure I am home where ever I roam.
Now I ask you the question, What three ordinary things are the supporters of your life?
Countdown Deals
Just popping in quickly to let you know that rubedo, the memoir I self-published in 2016 is on a countdown deal with Amazon this week. Totally forgot all about it, as I set it up a couple of weeks ago and then time got in the way. This is probably the only time I’ll be offering any discount deals on this title, as I work on the next instalment.
Get your copy while it’s cheap. Happy reading.
thirst

A taster from a new podcast coming your way – Poetry From The Heart. Starting soon the Poetry From The Heart podcast will be a time for you to relax and listen as I read to you a selection of my poetry.
thirst
when the rains come there will be sweetness
when the rains come i will be ready
i am the creature who must survive
without water
my coat and ears and kidneys adapt
to the lack
while blood vessels close to my skin
remain sensitive to sound
during the scorching heat of day
i am underground bent double with grief
every cell of my body calls
out for that healing salve – water
my creamy coat dims
as fur upon my soles cushion
sharp sand pains coursing
through my heart
at night when i should emerge
to hunt i burrow deeper
using my bushy tail to keep hidden
sweeping and protecting my solitude
i wait out the waters keeping cool
slowing my heart beat
some might say i am dead
but i will pad again under the full moon
bark at the moon sing to the moon
once again
once my cracked skin heals
once my parched soul refreshes
as the rains enters and fills my empty pores
with the welcomed sweetness of being enough
a marrying of sites
“Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.”
― Margaret Atwood,
Since May 2015, I have lived a nomadic life on the internet. I have created two different websites, in addition to Living Wild Studios, since then.
August 1st 2015, saw Wild Soul Woman being born.

I created Wild Soul Woman as a safe place to heal. A safe place to heal after a very harrowing and very public shaming. Wild Soul Woman was a space from which to RISE.
A year on from then, and I felt the need for more space, more room to grow into the wild soul woman I was becoming. Bit by bit, day by day, I have been becoming a better version of myself. I have been becoming my authentic self.
Hence, Authentic SheShe was born as a blog where I shared my practice, lessons learnt, opportunities and love affair with creativity. Running parallel with this site was my site dedicated to ,my photography, presented under the title of Sheree Angela Matthews. I used this place as a showcase for my projects in progress as well as a portfolio.
Living Wild Studios is now my creative home, where I am finally sharing multi-coloured strands of my creativity all under one roof. Finally coming home to all of me. To the whole of me. Living wild, living true.
Please consider signing up for Studio Notes. You’ll find out what’s happening in the studios before anyone else!
threads

#liberatedlines:: amplify :: day 6 #threads
Yeah man, I’m a strong black woman. Independent, resourceful, push me down and I get back up. ‘Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down. ‘ As the advert used to say.
Hell I’ve even been proud to state that I’m an independent black woman. But that’s not my whole story. This is not all of who I am. Something I have to explore and step out from behind this cardboard cut out of a woman of colour. And something those looking at me and judging have to realise; I am more than just one story. I have many multicoloured threads running through me that I am just starting to be brave enough to explore.
I’m an introvert. I hate crowds. I’d rather stay quiet that speak up and out.
I was a girl who idolised her daddy even though he beat her to keep her quiet.
I was a young woman who didn’t want to be like her mama; a virgin till married and then only being with one man for her life. So I slept around at Uni so I could at least feel I had variety. Even if none of them touched my heart or my ‘g’ spot.
I was the career woman following education’s path right up to doctorate level thinking at least then they would listen to me. Take me seriously. I was wrong.
I am the mother who is constantly second guessing herself if she’s doing a good enough job or not. This time, this energy could be better off just giving them my attention. My love.
I am the wife now who lives like a virgin.
I married a man who each day expects me to be that strong black woman. When each day all I want to do it climb into my woman cave and write. I want to dive deep inside of me to give in to all parts of me. To embrace the light and the dark. I want to be able to play in my shadows 24/7 and not have to worry I have to come back out to make the tea or go do the school run. I want to be free of this strong black woman hashtag so I can break apart, break down with the aim to build myself up in a different way. In a way more aligned with my soul, my heart, my voice. Not influenced by any outsiders or societal situations but staying true to the multicoloured threads that take their hue from the rivers flowing inside of me. Wild and free.
#liberatedlinesamplify
ready to roar
iberated lines :: amplify :: day 5 #readytoroar
she’s been small and silenced and caged for so long that when everything crashes down around her, she is lost. she doesn’t know what to do or say or be.
scared of this nothingness and fearful of stepping into freedom, into the arena on her own terms; pure and clear and naked.
she curls into a tight ball, curls in on herself.
tight in her protective sphere, she hears her heart beating. knows she lives. she gives thanks. breath in breath out
away from the public glare, she starts to sense a fluttering in her core. a gentle coaxing of wings, caressing out waves of love for herself.
these feelings talk with her heart. small sounds. quiet whispers echoing through blood and bone and skin. there be singing. singing to herself of the trees and seas. singing with her shadows. singing through her shadows.
and through the process, she’s uncurling, unfolding until like the blousy blooms of peonies, she’s standing in her truth. beaming out her light; a beacon. a guide for others to see and to feel and to be.
#liberatedlinesamplify #readytoroar #atthecrossroadsofshouldandjust #hygge #alchemy #compassion #patience #water #authenticsheshe #beyourownbeloved

naming my bones

liberated lines:: amplify :: day 2 – Can you class teeth as bones? As when the North wind blows and gusts straight through me as if I am air, I smile. Later my teeth ache, like the cold has seeped into my teeth, into my bones.
The cold can nestle within my womb for days. I feel it bedding down. Not bothering to warm through. Instead content on chilling me from the inside out. Right through to the tips of my fingers and toes.
I look at my hands and wonder. You can have more than 206 bones, you know? Unnamed bones that develop in areas of friction and tension and stress.
I feel unnamed bones in the in the palms of my hands. Because I’ve always tried to please, giving away parts of myself in the hope of being validated and loved.
I feel unnamed bones in the soles of my feet. Because I’m trying to walk back to me now. Trying to get back to my whole self; the self who was lost behind masks others forced upon me and the ones I took up eagerly, if it meant I belonged.
Gut and bone and bleed. I name these as authentic me. Sinewy strong fibres knitted close together. Taking up the slack. Gut and bone and bleed. Lined up like rows of teeth, ready to do battle, ready to bear my soul. Gut and bone and bleed.
#liberatedlinesamplify #namingyourbones #authenticsheshe #alchemy #belovedbodypeace #hygge #practice #wildsoulwoman #voice #standinginmytruth #patience #compassion



