worrying, wasting time thinking about whatever anyone else thinks about me, says about me, or judges me.
It’s a practice but it’s the best thing I have ever let go of. I am so much happier and freer living comfortable in my own bubble of golden light.
#decemberreflections2017 day 13 – 5 things about me
1. I’m still in my pjs and dressing gown today. Just don’t give a hoot.
2. When I was about 8 or 9, I used to dress up like Miss Marple right down to the tasseled shoes.
3. I have a PhD in Creative Writing but don’t crow about it as the nasty people tried to take it away from me. But failed.
4. My favourite colour is red like my core, my inner wisdom, my soul.
5. I’m a Queen.
Hard to get going this morning. Tiredness and sickness and just plain ready for the holidays to kick in which would mean we’re off the clock.
Still coming down off my time away with #shiftingloyalties and still trying to process it in a way to move forward. Safe spaces for women to connect and nurture each other are in decline making these spaces even more precious when you find and experience them.
Dreaming of Iceland, and when am I not. Planning to go back in January for the #northernlights ahead of going back in June for the #creativeretreat I’ve created for women. Details can be found on the website if you’re interested. Only two spots left. Payment plans are available too. Just get in touch. Enjoy the rest of your day, we’re sending our letter to Santa later 🤗 #icelandcreativeretreat #womenscreativity #empoweringwomen #womenssafespaces
#decemberreflections2017 – day 11 – I have discovered that I would be lost, lost I tell you without my visual journalling practice. This practice grounds me, centred me, plugs me right back into the core of me. I have been lucky enough to share this practice with different groups of women this year. I hope to expand this reach in 2018. Did I mention I’m running a creative retreat in Iceland where visual journalling will be at the heart of this adventure?
Only two places left. #discovery #womenscreativity #empoweringwomen #creativeiceland #icelandretreat
It’s so good to find some green still as muted tones become the norm this time of year. #decemberreflections
#decemberreflections2017 – what I found most challenging this year was to do nothing. Self-care. Stay still rest. #challenge #womenscreativity #livinginthisworld
Day 3 of December Reflections and the prompt is : best day of 2017.
This year has been long and short, amazing and disconcerting, a breeze and a challenge. But I started with an intention – this year was one of the ‘voice’. My voice.
In January I attended a writers’ retreat for finding our voices to talk about the issues we care about.
Visiting #Iceland twice, strengthened my relationship with the land, my vision as well as my voice talking about my body in the world.
And now into the final month of the year, my time with @Idlewomen #shiftingloyalties is coming to an end and the signs I have been receiving are that I am on the right path. Sometimes that path might be lonely, I might be the only loud voice quaking ( we have ducks here) about an issue but support and encouragement is not to too away.
Last night I shared my poetry for the first time since I lost my voice in 2015. I’m emboldened. I heard my voice. My voice is strong and true and she is me.
For me, at the moment, red signifies anger. There’s a fire burning in my belly, it’s been stoked by my time away at Shifting Loyalties this last week.
My forthcoming e-book with Culture Matters is an exploration of this anger. My anger at how black Woman are treated in society. How we end up at the bottom of the pile in terms of being treated with decency, respect and love.
This piece is part of this collection.
‘Death by persons unknown’
Pain provides the common language of humanity; it extends humanity to the dispossessed and, in turn, remedies the indifference of the callous.
– Saidiya V. Hartman
(Picture the scene).
It’s a Sunday afternoon
& the bees are busy hovering
around blousy peonies,
at a church picnic.
The crowd moves in closer as the fire’s lit.
(Look at them gathering, working up a sweat, working up a frenzy as the barbecue takes hold).
They linger in the smell of flesh,
in the smell of blood.
The only shade is thrown by the kill;
the swinging charred remains of a black body.
(Try to shift your gaze).
From the hanging meat to the sea of red-faced, smiling white people hungry for violence fed on a diet of hate for generations.
There’ll be a photograph produced of this social ritual. You might receive a postcard making
the past very present.
& if you’re feeling it,
it could burn a hole in your heart.
Living Wild Studios 