I thought the snow would come and go especially with living by the coast. There’s something in the air, maybe it’s the salt from the sea, which makes snow here a fleeting thing.
But she’s stayed the last few days and has dug in. Fresh snow falling over night. Clinging to roof tops, layer upon layer, creating slippery paths and doorsteps.
But as I’ve said before there is something magical about snow and how it silences the air. Almost like a cocoon is created in the world you’re walking through/{being} within.
So like the child that still lingers inside of me, I’ve been taking joy in the snow lingering and transforming my world into a safe and cosy cocoon away from the harshness of the other world.
Do you have a favorite place you have visited? Where is it?
Longsands, Tynemouth
I’m grateful to live by the sea.
After a traumatic time in my life, I advocated for myself. I needed time to heal and forget. To be soothed and held.
So I proposed to my family a move to the coast was needed. That’s nearly 15 years ago now. And maybe that move has been thrown back in my face at different times by certain people, I’ve never regretted the move.
Being able to see the sea daily, even if there are times I forgot and neglect this ritual, has been beneficial for my soul, n never mind my body and mind. My soul.
The sea is my soul food. And there have been many times, many times in the past, now and probably to come when I will need this soul food more than I really know/feel.
And she’s there for me. The North Sea is on my doorstep. And I greet her with open arms. She is never the same sea twice and I take my direction/ way of being from her so that I’m living my life within the expansive realms of self-expression rather than within the confines offered to me via this so-called society/ culture.
The sea supports me, being me. And I give thanks to her for that. But I also appreciate her beauty and power and way of being which is on her own terms. you’ve got to love that!
Today was the day my son graduated. Became a graduate of MA in Environmental Health from the University of Birmingham.
I could have shared an image of him graduating as I’m a very proud mama. But I’ve been rethinking about how much or how little I share with the world. And I will explore this more fully later this month. But some things are not mine to share or I do not want to share.
Some things I want to keep close to myself because they are special because the world does not need to know all that I am thinking or feeling or {being}.
The snow is still with us. Melting yes. Slushy yes. A bit dirty in places yes. But if I look carefully, I can still see the beauty and the moments of quiet and stillness and wonder.
I’m grateful today for a roof over my head to keep warm and safe. Yes I’m grateful for being safe and all who I love are safe too. Thank you.
December is here. To keep me connected to each moment, each experience I intend to offer myself the gifts of gratitude and attention during the lead up to Christmas. Call it an advent calendar of opening doors each day to reveal an image and a reason to be grateful.
Today was all about the snow. Walking in the snow was magical. Crisp, fresh and clear air and so much beauty to relish and share.
What a wonderful gift to start the last month of the year with. Expect more photowalks this month as they are simple but oh so joyous. Thank you.
I’m sharing this spread created this morning because I’m channeling the love. The love on self. In all my fucked up glory. There is beauty in the messy. Ugly and sweet. And that’s the way it goes ( Janet Jackson style!).
I passed through this part of Scotland, Glencoe, the Highlands, last month on my West Highland Way trek.
In the shadow of mountains, the three/ five sisters and Etive, and it was my birthday, I made the promise to myself to return. To retreat here with pen and paper and see what materialises.
I’m here. And just being. Walking and filling my soul. And {BE}. I followed my instincts which was calling out for this space of nothingness.
For this soft place to land to tend my brokenness.
Today I took my time. I had a lie in. Got up grabbed a coffee and went back to bed with my new journal.
There was the bubbling of excitement as well as fear. I’ve been preparing this new journal for the past week and it was time to begin.
I’m reminded of the Henry David Thoreau Quote: “There is no beginning too small.”
So I took my time. Took inspiration from the colours on the page and started mining magazines for images and text. I ripped out whole pages knowing I’d come back in and cut out the details, the inspiration.
I spent about an hour cutting and pasting. Spreading out across the colourful pages.
The last spread of sticking I did in the picture above. Once this was complete, I had to leave it to complete some chores. It was an hour before I returned with another coffee and this time ready to write.
I wrote about beginning again. The newness of a new journal. The possibilities. How my energy needed a shift hence the new journal and starting it this morning as I go on retreat; away from the world to create, to be and to rest.
I thought it fitting that this day should be marked with a new visual journal, with a new beginning as I’m excited about going away and being away from all the distractions and noise and demands which have been dominating my life of late.
I’m grateful for the time, space and means to take off from my life for a week and be inspired within the cradle of mountains.
I do not set out to create anything beautiful with my visual journal practice. The purpose is always to be present within the process. But there are sometimes when I look at a finished pages ( I don’t think it is ever finished as I always return to continue the conversation with myself) and they bring a smile to myself as they stand in for all the emotions and thoughts and dreams that surfaced during the time with the page.
I wonder, and wonder, and wonder what can be explored and shared when I lean into my interdisciplinary practice. I wonder.
Sometimes, I can feel my energy stagnating. Or being leeched away into activities, projects or circumstances that I want to be in but which if I allow it take me away from what is important to me.
I do great work and I enjoy facilitating/ creating/ coordinating it. Changing lives and bringing joy and opportunities to others, for others.
But sometimes, I have to strengthen my boundaries and batter down the hatches in order to make sure I can show up the best version of myself for myself and others.
The last couple of weeks have found me running low on energy, patience and creativity. I’ve been giving away a lot of myself, time and energy, and focus.
So the next chapter to the end of 2023, is focused on me taking back what’s mine. Taking back my time, my energy, my sparks and directing them in the directions that feed my soul. Which fuels my dreams and confidence in my voice.
And it starts with preparing my next visual journal. I’ve returned to a trusty old faithful. A pink pig sketchbook. And I’ve set up on my kitchen bench with paints and the gift card.
Every time I go into the kitchen, I create a spread. I smear drops of paint across the page with the disused credit card. I can feel my energy, my excitement and joy rising.
This simple act of moving colour across the page fills me with joy, wonder and ideas. My creativity has been lit up again and I’m looking forward to filling these pages.
Living Wild Studios 