Creative Writing
-
An Ode To The Scabs
Can you see my scabby places? They’re not pretty. They’re not beautiful. And they’re not polished. Can you see my scabby places? These healing places where the raw edges of myself are knitted back together. Can you see my scabby places? They’re not pretty. They’re not beautiful. And they’re not polished. But these places are healing places. And they’re sacred.
-
2014 calls for…
My voice, my words, my song. Space, sweet space – room to breathe – room to dream. Bright light that burnishes my soul and my heart. The removal of the corset. Soft belly breaths. Heart expansion. Restriction removal. The beauty of friendship, of soul sister love – both letting the other be exactly as they are (without judgement). Daring. Kindling for the flames of my desire. The courage to give my children wings. Clear seeing. Tender touch – fingertips tracing lightly across bare skin. Wishes and dreams and longings and desires and cravings and ambitions and more. Invitations to be delighted. And love. Always love. What’s 2014 calling in for…
-
Meanwhile, out in Rumi’s field…
Dance like no-one is watching. That’s what they say, isn’t it? When you’re afraid to let the true you out to play? Dance like no-one is watching, even if they are. Even if they laugh at you. Even if they try to shame you – all the while their own desire trails like an errant underskirt below the hem of an otherwise respectable garment. To break down, break out, break free… the moment of possibility pulses and wavers – a mirage that could be made real if only it were given credence. The paradigm shift to end all paradigm shifts. The dance floor is yours. Will you take to it?…
-
Make Art. Because We Need You To.
Provoke me. Inspire me. Shake me. Comfort me. Seduce me. Touch me. Dance me. Play me. Confuse me. Move me. Show me… …the contents of your heart, the imaginings of your mind, the cravings of your spirit, the spaces of your soul. And do it by sharing your art. I am so done with the judgements with the proclamations with close-minded opinions of surface-scratchers. I don’t want to know how they think I should blog. write. share. breathe. live. I no longer live within the limitations of their minds. I am stifled enough by the limitations of my own. Instead create art of your own, express in the medium…
-
Another Return
This weekend, I am returning to this place which holds such deep significance for me. And so I am called to share this article taken from my free download Less Ordinary Living, which you receive upon signing up to my newsletter. Grandad wanted just to drive us back home again. He had driven me and my tiny daughter the 6 and a bit hours to get to our new home on the north western tip of Scotland, and now that we had arrived, the disappointment was palpable. Our new home sat on the edge of the kyle: a long inlet where the Atlantic flows past, shaping and reshaping the sand…
