Sunday, November 30, 2014

A smattering of happenings...

I thought I would share a smattering of things going on in the studio. You know, aside from the gigantic mess that has accumulated...
After lighting a hand bundled wildflower smudge stick, sent to me as a gift from a friend across the country, I set my intentions and get to work. I have had a couple fairs in the last few weeks and am in a local holiday pop-up shop through Christmas Eve, so I have been working on making things to put in there. I have new earrings, necklaces, leggings, and organic tote bags to be added to the shop!

p.s. I am so grateful for all of you!
So I am having a sale through tomorrow!

Friday, November 28, 2014

True Medicine

This may be my new favorite place. The road is not far- I can hear the roar of motors in the distance, but I don't care. I imagine it is the sound of wind dancing through the trees...

It is half dead here, but gives way to life. Still, but eddying. Just past sun-up, when it topples over naked treetops, casting golden light across high places and grass tips.
Frost glitters.

Water, black as midnight moves steadily through the skeletal remains of what was, at one time, a forest. Tree corpses + cattails.
It is pure bliss here. Peaceful to the core. (Contrary to what one may think of a swamp. Likewise of the desert) And it always seems like I have this space to myself.

I move through the low places, where the not-fully-risen-sun barely touches through the branches. It is colder here. Frozen ground cold. I am happiest being alone here (aside from my canine companions). The world seems different when it is still semi-sleeping.

We are unintentionally following a trail of blood. I assume either an animal killed or wounded by some creature. The trail leads on for a while (the dogs are fascinated) and the blood is so thick and bright from the cold temperature that it looks like paint. Surreal. Some areas are pooled and thicker- it makes me curious as to what really happened here. There is no fur. No remnants. No traces other than some scat and the once alive red liquid.

The light is so fresh here. I know it isn't new, but I love how early morning is the first time the light, right at this moment, is caressing the land on this new day.
Like they've never touched each other before.

I tend to be a homebody. Ideally living in an area where I can walk out my front door or travel a short distance to a wild place that I love beyond words. Love to wanter and get lost in. (However, I will admit that there is also a new and romantic wanderlust growing inside me. I am dreaming of new and exotic places to travel to and explore.) I love to go out for hours in the morning with the dogs, to return home and work the rest of the afternoon. It sets the mood and balances my mind + heart.
True medicine.

Monday, November 24, 2014


I live on an island.
Well, technically it is a peninsula, but everyone refers to it as an island. There are even people who won't go over the bridge and prefer to stay on here, within the the 2 towns and its limited "wild" space. We are a port town, a fishing town, so many spend a majority of their lives on boats as well.


One of the things I am realizing with time is that I absolutely, positively need to be outside.
In wild space, forested places, open fields, along coastal beaches or exploring the rocks. The more space the better. Space is limited where I live, especially "wild" space, but the space we do have is positively enchanting...
I appreciate being out in nature for so many reasons, but it really makes me realize how little I need to be happy. In an opposing sense, it also makes me appreciate all of the comforts of modern living.
Still, my days are always brighter when I make time to be out there, where the wild things live. Moving under the cover of trees, through crepitating twigs and leaves. Next to a brook, leading to the feral, open ocean. The places that makes my heart sing. Cheeks rubicund as I face the full force of cold air in the transition of autumn into the winter solstice. I like the quiet, although it isn't really quiet at all. It feels like home.