Three years ago, with shaky hand, but empowered to move my life forward, I signed bankruptcy papers. And my grown children and I signed a lease for a magical apartment in the West End. There have been dark moments since that have terrified me as I processed and struggled, but also so much lightness and so…
Category: Journal
Journal/Image Idea File of the month from private collection.
Slithering pancreatic serpent. #griefprocess
In November 2007, Dr. Ebrahim sat knee to knee with my mother. I was on the other side of the little examination room. I recall it was a sunny day. I think it was. Grouse Mountain shone in the background. I think it did. The room seemed turquoise. Friendly. We found a mass in…
Here’s to us crawling to the finish line…
Touch me life. Not softly. – Maya Angelou And my GOD, life has touched us this year. Here’s to us crawling to the finish line, scraped, bruised, hoping. Here’s to our successes and our fucking failures, to finally resting and to re-entering labour. Here’s to the vigil keepers, the rent seekers, to the quiet and the loud…
The creative life putters on with audacity and hope.
China marker, pastel, linseed oil on wood. Based on Edvard Munch’s “Puberty.” (author of quote unknown) I have been quiet on here for a while. But somehow- the creative life putters on with audacity and hope. I sometimes question what my drive is and why I carry on despite at times crawling forward on my…
I’m back in a stall- some kind of school washroom… #dream #innercritic
I used to have a recurring dream— it started in my adolescence and continued into my early 40’s- I would dream that I was getting ready for dance class and changing in a public bathroom stall– it would be at a university pool, or at a community centre, or at a school- but it would always…
You are motherhood. You are the greatest mystery. Karin 17/09/36-08/11/08
Only do not forget, if I wake up crying it’s only because in my dream I’m a lost child hunting through the leaves of the night for your hands… – Pablo Neruda 8 years ago today, my little brother held my mother’s face and spoke sweetly, guiding my mother. I laid my right ear on her chest and…
I’ve given myself space-time.
This week started with some bristling uneasiness. But instead of falling into fear and trying to figure out next steps, I decided to give myself this week to take time– to NOT FIGURE THINGS OUT. To give myself some space and time. Some space-time. Be in the questions, yes- but allow whatever comes- to come. I asked myself- what…
Journal exercise: I Found My Way Home
I have been ruminating on the concept of home. The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned. ― Maya Angelou, All God’s Children Need Traveling Shoes Journal exercise: If you were to write an autobiography entitled I Found My Way Home, what…
We were drawn together on Saturday- and now I know why…
I love family. And we have shared so much- all the life markers, the ups and downs of life and through it all there is that special glue that connects us. We had an impromptu get together at my place on Saturday- somehow ALL of us (niece, nephew, brothers, sister in laws, daughter, son, daughter…
Love letter to Toronto
6 AM Despite living in Canada most of my life, I had never been to Toronto before this year and now I am on my third visit in just a few months! Sitting at the table in my suite in Etobicoke [early morning preparing to co-facilitate with Beverley Pomeroy 3 days of engagement work with…
On Autumnal endings and beginnings in October
This is such a beautiful tender time of the year for me. The autumn is both a time of loss and renewal. My parents passed in the autumn, yet autumn is a time of new possibilities and fresh starts. Life/ death. The extremes? Or two sides of the same coin or exactly the same? For…
What being ace means to me. #asexual musings
October 3, 2016: Being age 54 and “single” I am often asked (by people my own age), Are you dating anyone now? When my response is one of raised eyebrows and a cynical laugh, and an adamant, I have no interest, I often get the NEVER SAY NEVER statement. Oh my God. I know I know— who…
‘Be willing to be a beginner every single morning.’ Journaling exercise
Today you are a newborn and you are starting fresh! Draw a baby. Draw brainstorm bubbles above “your “head. Write about what it may be like to start fresh. Releasing anxiety and hesitancy. Brainstorm central themes in your life. Just let it happen. Be willing to be a beginner every single morning. – Meister Eckhart…
“I recall a childhood dream…” with visual storytelling.
Toying with creative process. Thumbnail sketches and experimenting with storyboarding the PREFACE (preamble) portion of Molly, a true crime analysis: RECALL:
A dream- the dead cygnet. A message from Molly.
A message from Molly? Questioning my commitment to see this story through? I am on the path. I promise stay on it. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death, And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings His soul and body to their lasting rest. –…
“I put myself back in the narrative…” and ugh- LOG JAM. #innercritic #onwriting
On the gross creative process, the ugliness, the inner critic, the log jams, the writing… Log jam. Log jam. After feedback FEEDBACK from multiple sources that I should be in the story and I try and try but log jam log jam— Why does the creative process halt when I do that? I place…
First line… let’s go.
Recall: I sit now surrounded by my manuscripts, references, inspiration and pressing fingertips to keys and (re)typing. (Re)COMMITMENT! This version will be from the pelvis. First chakra shit. Yesterday, I posted: Start again. Put China markers and socks and threaded needles down. Write, bitch, write. There is no beginning. I’ve tried to invent one but it…
Catacomb of Veils- Burning Man 2016 Reflections
Recall: Part 1: The Project Part 2: The Inspiration Part 3: The Team Part 4: The Scope Catacomb of Veils Burning Man 2016: Reflections Anna Thorsen (my daughter): “I’ve back been home in San Francisco from Burning Man for 24 hours and I’ve been trying to figure out how to summarize my first trip to the…
SOME PORTRAITS OF GRIEF.
For me, it is impossible to quantify grief. To qualify it. To define it. It comes as a surprise. It comes as a wave. It comes suddenly. Or it comes on slow. It can feel like nostalgia, anger, sadness, gratitude, drowning. It can be triggered. It can be low grade. It can be reassuring. It can…
You had the opportunity last month to end up not recognizing yourself.
This past weekend I have had a bit of that existential-post-trip-out-of-body-kind-of-weirdness-needing-to-contract feeling. [Thanks to my soul sister, Patti Henderson], I check in with the Power Path regularly (especially when I feel like this) as a tool/guide. I am reminded of the July 2016 forecast: “Radical personal transformation is possible. Start with taking care of yourself, loving…
Williams Lake/ Punky Lake Summer 2016 Diary- Part 2: Travel
Recall: Preview Part 1: Preparation Part 2: Travel I have arrived! (Excuse any formatting issues as I am using the WordPress app on my iPad!) Those of you that know me know that I am not used to travelling (aka NERVOUS WRECK) so a simple trip from Vancouver to wherever comes with its share of…
Of being age 21 at age 54. Being a menopausal millennial. Journal musings.
Have you ever sat so fully in the moment, teetering on a sharp blade, fully aware of being so profoundly present- wondering if you are living a parallel storyline or path not predicted, not destined, but accidentally claimed? The world is chaotic and painful, glorious and terrifying, and large- yet each of us spin around…
Journal exercise: self-care and self-compassion
Journal exercise: What does self-care and self-compassion mean to you? How are they different? How are they the same? — Inspired by conversations of late, I am intrigued by the differences between SELF-CARE and SELF-COMPASSION. — — In health care, self care is any necessary human regulatory function which is under individual control, deliberate and self-initiated. [source]…
In place of death there was light.
I am preparing myself to draw my mother’s “death mask” from the photo my son took after she passed on November 8, 2008. I have been preparing for awhile. I know the process will be an important and necessary one for me personally. I think about it often. It’s not about needing to work on something…
Messages from Angels…
I love getting messages from Angels. I just sat down for a spot of tea… and pulled out some creativity books to prep for a session around mission and vision statements. I discovered a tiny envelope inside one of the books containing a gift from one of my mom’s best friend, Jopie. I don’t recall…
The timeless/spaceless mid zone of creative process and chatting with the dead…
There is a beautiful part of my creative process that I cherish- the part that allows me to dialogue with my parents as if they are here in my kitchen, sharing coffee and offering advice and dialoguing on the cold case. I had some magical moments the other day as I pulled out old binders…
Dear my body… a love letter.
Dear my body, We shy away from the camera; we always have. We are like the Sasquatch– rare sightings on FB. I am not interested in what you look like. I don’t want to see. I don’t need to see. I prefer the role of the observer, not the observed. I love REALITY and…
… it goes deep, deep down into its burrow…
I was organizing my notebooks and loose papers and to-do lists at a coffee shop this morning. I love to organize, but I am strangely disorganized. Creative chaos is my middle name, but so are organizational skills. My mind runs a 1000 miles per hour, and so I write bits of quotes, make lists, tiny…
Stay tuned.
I have been quiet on the blog. But I am here! So many new wonderful unfolding happening. So why so quiet!? Me, who usually shares everything! Well, I reached the limit for storage space (visual blogs do that)- DOH! I know I could have formatted my images smaller. But I love the flow of the blogging…
“I am not young enough to know everything.”
54 today. At times through crawling, at times through running, stumbling, skipping, dancing, rolling, falling, shaking, tripping, jumping, sliding, swinging, flying but mainly through one step at a time- I am still here. It is a beautiful day indeed. “I am not young enough to know everything.” – Oscar Wilde