Who has time for frivolity and silliness? Not me. So much serious stuff to catch up on, so many 'chores' to focus on, so much STUFF going on in the world, so much to worry and fret about. Sighhhh. Add to all that: yesterday I woke up to 3 inches of snow (after weeks of mildish temps and rain), a midday temperature of minus 2 and, first thing, even before I'd ventured into the kitchen, my tooth broke. SIGHHHH. But I had rearranged a video call with Bethe in Texas so I could attend a live/ zoom watercolour painting session with Rachel Kentish of Rae Creates (check out her Etsy shop) so I made sure I attended. I knew that Rae was focusing on creating fantastical creatures but I told myself I could always work on something serious, something that really mattered, maybe my ATCs from January, on the sly.

Last time (also the first time) I attended a live session with Rae and her lovely 'followers', I painted a simple madala that ended up having so much meaning for me that I placed it on my spring altar. Besides, Rae has such a gentle peacefulness about her and her voice reminds me of Sheila's, a beloved childhood friend. A little sprinkle of peace and reminiscing is never a bad thing.

Wouldn't you know it, Rae flipped through enclyopedias and showed us how the pictures of wildlife inspired her crazy creatures and, well, it just looked like so much fun to create a mythical beast, I couldn't resist.  Of course, the idea and hope is that we practice and hone our watercolour skills.  Maybe I did that too. But I know for sure that I hatched the Super Nubbly Knobbly Criscact with her favourite flower. And I had SO much fun! (even naming her, can you tell? Lol!)

I based her on yesterday's haiku picture of my Christmas cactus. Lol. But you will certainly be forgiven for not seeing the likeness!

All this delightful silliness reminded me of one of my creative 'heroes' Shel Silverstein. If ever I doubt what I'm sharing with the world creatively, especially something bizarre and light hearted, I remember his wisdom and all he gave this world and how much better we are for it. Long before I even knew of him, his poems and songs touched me as a child (to this day I can't listen to 'The Unicorn' by the Irish Rovers which he wrote without tears in my eyes). Later, I fell in love with Dr Hook and many of their quirky ballads and moving songs ('I Got Stoned And I Missed It',  'Cover of The Rolling Stone', 'Sylvia's Mother', 'More Like The Movies'  and 'A Couple More Years' to name only several) and was astounded to learn that they had been written by the same person, this Shel Silverstein character. In university, we studied his children's books. Such talent--he drew the pictures, he wrote the words. I found out years later that he also wrote the infamous Johnny Cash song, 'A Boy Called Sue' which I had loved even as a child as it had my name (or what I wanted as my name) in it and it was funny.

But when I doubt my creativity, especially the more frivolous creations, I turn to one of his short poems, 'Put Something In'.  I used to have this poem printed out and in full view of my computer. Maybe it's time to put it back up. I hope the link below works and you can listen to 30 seconds of the poem being read aloud. Spoiler alert: it ends with 'Put something silly in the world/ that ain't been there before.'  Yesterday, thanks to Rae, I did just that. And it felt wonderful.

What silliness can you add to the world today?

A thick blanket of snow! It looks pretty but it's beyond mid-April and I'm more receptive to rain right now. But it won't last long. The other day I noticed how most of my Christmas cacti (cactuses sounds better) are busily blooming and I wrote a haiku about it for my daily haiku (but didn't use it yet) and took photos of the beautiful shimmery flowers. The first line of that haiku was 'No fall bulbs planted'. I was missing the early bulb flowers in my yard so looked within and embraced the Christmas cactus beauty instead. With the startle of so much snow this morning, I changed the first line of the haiku.

The haiku was inspired by the shape of the flowers which from some angles look like tiny planes or birds; definitely they look as if they're soaring purposefully through the air to me. The pinkish white flower above is from my oldest Christmas cactus. I have no idea how old but at least 15 years...very possibly more. It's so old that its main stems are woody and rough. I moved it last year but it's adapted well and is just as happy in its new location (east facing window as opposed to west facing). I just love it.  And on days like today, I appreciate it (and its fellow companions) even more!

Sometimes we have to move beyond what we want to see outside and embrace and nurture what's inside.  

May you be surrounded by beauty.

High on the shelves at the top of my stairs stands a solid rectangular block of Lego created by my son when he was 8 years old or so. MOM. On the back three hearts (almost).  I've never dismantled it and it's dsplayed prominently so I can see it every time I come up the stairs. A little jolt of joy. No matter that some of the white Lego has yellowed over time. It makes it more precious really. No matter that many of the memories it stirs aren't directly linked to its making.

​Dane turns 33 today and lives very happily with his husband in Tucson, Arizona, USA.  I just checked and without making any stops Tucson is about 3,300 km away from where I live in Thunder Bay, Canada:
total driving distance is 2,018 miles
driving time of 31 hours, 56 minutes
flight distance is 1,589 miles
flight time of 3 hours, 41 minutes
source: https://www.trippy.com/distance/Thunder-Bay-to-Tucson
​I'm amazed it's so close. It feels like it's a million miles away at the moment. 

Last year, my hubby and myself visited Dane and Jonathan in Tucson for 2 weeks. Our first time there. We were so fortunate that our visited concluded just as covid travel panic set in so the first ten days of our time together were especially carefree. I took the photo below of Dane at Sabino Canyon during those early days. 

Amazing how many memories can be stored in little bricks of yellowed Lego.

May your day be energized with jolts of joy.

You know the feeling when you're totally in sync with yourself, with all parts of yourself? Fetch, your inner child, your adulty self, your ego, your intuition? A couple of weeks ago I took a path never traveled by me before into the heart of a copse of trees, mainly birches and alders, five minutes walk away from my home. I stumbled along a narrow path full of swishy wintered leaves and deadfall branches. I felt excited; a child on an adventure. As a girl I loved playing 'up the hills' at the top of our road or in the vacant lot at the end of our street. i loved making dens, cosying a place up, hidden from view from anyone, protected on all sides and with a secret door usually of moveable brush. I could see out but no one could see me. I could spy! On this present day path, I reconnected with that young free-spirited girl. I also recognised the wildness of Fetch.  Especially when I discovered a sunlit glen with a thick fallen log for a seat. My heart leapt! This could be my den! No matter that I could probably never get up (or even down) onto the log to sit! I saw myself sitting there with a shiny silver tin full of buttons and cookies and postcards and red leaves and pine cones. A pen of course and a pretty notepad. 

I promised myself I'd be back. As I ducked under low lying branches and walked away, the caw from nearby crows sounded like claps of joy from Fetch and the free-spirited girl within.

Wishing you a day of delighting your inner child.

Tree branches still clack when the wind blows; thick frost sparkles on rooftops; the wind chills like ice. Winter still has a grip on us here in northwestern Ontario, in the middle of Canada. Spring has teased us with a few warm sunny days, even mild rainy ones but yesterday when I fed the birds, the breeze chiseled through my clothes and made me shiver and hurry. That's when I noticed this one lone maple key on the back deck. Its skeletal wings reminded me of the bony last grips of winter. 

As soon as I took the photo of the maple key, my cat Spook ('little cat' in some of my haiku) pounced on it, batted it up into the air, leapt to catch it then tumbled off the deck (mere inches) with it between her paws. Then she bolted round and round the bottom of the deck. A pudgy cat possessed! 

We may not always feel it but spring is definitely in the air. Just ask Spook.

May sunshine warm your bones today.

I work midnights so I sleep during the day sometimes and I've had these earplugs for a year or so now. I've never wanted earplugs. My hubby came home with them one day after I'd woken up too early the day before due to him puttering around downstairs. I wore them once or twice. Only if he was home though. Being slightly deaf in one ear, I thought the earplugs would make me feel vulnerable. But since a squirrel took up residence in our bedroom wall then in the ceiling, I've worn them constantly. Much as I loved hearing the squirrel croon (who knew?) and found that comforting, the sudden frantic scrabblings  bothered me. Apart from waking me, the noise distressed me to think about the damage the little critter could be doing. No peaceful sleep happening then. 
​
When I was a child, the dark bothered me. But what bothered me more was the looming hulk of a wooden wardrobe in my small bedroom. Even with the door open and the hallway light shining in, the wardrobe cast a shadow like a hunched figure over my bed. Plus I had watched 'The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe'. It terrified me! What lay just on the other side of the wardrobe door, in the darkness that lingered there? I used to lay with my back to the wardrobe to fall asleep on my right side (I absolutely couldn't fall asleep facing it) then at that very last moment before drifting off, at the point where I knew I couldn't open my eyes even if I wanted to, I'd flip over onto my left side to sleep.  Sometimes I would fall asleep on my right side but always woke up on my left. Decades later, even understanding why, I still started my sleep journey on my right side, 'good' ear upwards.

Until the squirrel came along.

To block out the squirrel's noises, I started to wear the earplugs. To help, I also started to sleep solely on my left side, 'bad' ear up. To my absolute delight, I found I slept soundly, barely moving, waking up feeling  refreshed on my left side whether daytime or nighttime sleeping.

The squirrel has gone from the inside of the house walls and ceiling now (the holes where she was getting in boarded up when she was out gathering seed at the feeder) but I still wear the ear plugs for every sleep. 

Who knew such a simple thing would improve my sleep overall so much? Now I'm looking at eye masks as well. I've seen ads for an eye mask and earplugs all in one and it even plays your Spotify tunes. Ah, make the world go away!

​May you have a day as free as possible of worldwide cares.

My yesterday was crammed with screens and by the end of the day my body was screaming to do something more active than sit. I considered a walk, even just around the block, but that would have involved getting changed into pants even though it was 9:30 and dark. My new moon vow involves getting back into my tai chi practice. So that was it then. Tai chi. I slipped on my outside tai chi shoes, the ones with the orangish plastic soles that are a touch too big, even though I intended to practice inside. Tai chi only requires the space of an oxen lying down.  Surprisingly not always easy to find in our house.

I told my hubby I was going to do tai chi "in the kitchen or in the middle room or..." "Outside?" he asked jokingly. I snapped my fingers. "Hey, you know what? Great idea."

​So the cats and I ventured outside into the night.  No rain. No wind. Perfect.

I used to practice tai chi regularly for the past 15 years or so but have barely practiced at all since the pandemic. No idea why not, really. I'm very aware of how it grounds me, strengthens my body, calms my mind, stimulates my memory and just generally helps me cope so much better.

The form I practice (International 8 Form) takes 10 minutes at the most to run through 3 cycles.  Even adding in my favourite qigong from the 6 Form for Health Qigong only takes several minutes more. Who can resist 'white crane spreads its wings' or 'stroking the beard'? Nothing special is needed for tai chi, not the place, not the atmosphere, not the attire. I love my tai chi shoes and have three pairs but they're not necessary and I have done tai chi barefoot in my home and in winter boots on snow at the public boat launch. My tai chi instructor always made sure that his classes were the same all the time with nothing fancy about them so we didn't get locked into thinking that certain conditions had to be fulfilled before we could practice. Likewise, I have emphasised this approach in writing workshops so I get it and appreciate it.  However, I love to practice tai chi with incense burning and soothing oriental music in the background. But none of that is necessary. Another instructor has led free practices in the summer beside Lake Superior with taped music drifting on the breeze.

Used to be I would take tai chi however, whenever and whereever I could find it.

Last night I found it again in the chill of the dark night on my back deck.

Wishing you a beautifully balanced day.

I admit it: I'm addicted to Journal Jams, especially Effy's live ones. Something so magical about spending an hour or two creating art from Effy's pulled prompts along with her and other creative souls. Catch them here through Effy's Patreon: www.patreon.com/effywild

I set aside time for them so I can catch them live if possible. I like the challenge of reacting to the pulled prompts spontaneqously as Effy pulls them. In replays (although still fun) you can find out the list of prompts in advance so they're not quite the same. Mind you, I usually fall behind Effy who is a whiz at painting, understanding the colour combinations and temperament of the materials she uses but there is still that challenge of thinking on my feet that happens in the live jams.  

Another delight of journal jamming is seeing everyone's posts in The Wilderhood, one of Effy's facebook groups. We all have the same prompts, we all see what Effy is doing yet everyone's paintings are so inspiringly different. Below is my painting from yesterday. I still need to put the quote in on printed paper above the heart. I had in mind something like: 'Enjoy life in all its glorious messiness.'  The swirling mess inside my heart which also seems to somehow work (at least in my eyes) inspired the quote.

Effy started regular live journal jams at the beginning of the pandemic as a way for people to connect with each other through art. They are a balm to my soul. Often I'll push aside my favourite activities such as art, 'reward' for doing other things that need to be get done in my day but this often means that I'll end my day (or run out of time) without having done any art. Journal jams remind me that art needn't take long and that there is power in starting and forging ahead and that everything else falls into place better if I take some time out for art. And that time set aside means a thing gets done! My day is better for it.

Much of the art surrounding me in my studio is journal jam art that I like too much to tuck away.  (see below) The bottom picture is also the present background on my phone's lock screen. Thank you for all this, Effy!

May you be able to embrace the messiness of life today.

At the risk of sounding ancient, it's all so different nowadays. Photos. They're everywhere, of everyone and everything. Used to be they were of very select moments, usually perfectly posed, a smile or not depending on the occasion and the period of time. Now they are more likely to be candid moments taken on someone's cell phones or selfies from which the photographer can pick and choose the perfect shot.

How daunting, really, especially in generations past, that the only one perfectly posed photograph that exists of Great Great Great Aunt Wilma might have been taken while she was trying to ignore a severe period cramp. Perhaps she never looked so pained in real life. But there she is now, that particular moment in time captured as her physical legacy throughout later generations. 

One of my favourite photos of Mam was taken at Trafalgar Square when she was a young woman. She looks like she's having fun, surrounded by flapping pigeons, her hair flying everywhere. But in reality she had a fear of birds flying and bats getting caught in her hair. I wonder now if that fear arose after the photo...right after as a result of this experience perhaps? Or did something negative happen right after so she equated birds flapping by her hair with those negative emotions? Or was she facing a fear by feeding the pigeons? Or was she really having fun feeding the birds? I never asked her. But I do love the photo. Mam never cared for her smile and she rarely smiled freely in photos so this is one of those precious ones.

As I scurried throughout the house taking photos of photos for the blog, I began to notice how i surrounded the photos: a gift label lovingly made for my mam from a dear friend in Tasmania; an ATC that I received from my friend Linda which seemed to fit with the photo of Rob. Many of these choices became conscious but started at a subconscious level and speak straight to my heart. Symbolism rules!

​My son Dane would be horrified if he ever knew that I'd posted his graduation photo but I had surrounded it with ATCs (again from Linda--we swap ATCs) representing him and love. He now lives in Arizona with his husband and is very happy there. So the bright colours remind me of that. The black and white photo of Mam and myself was given to me after her death by Dad who had stumbled across it while clearing up. He loved it because of her joyful smile, a mid-laugh almost. I paired it with a pretty piece of glass which often doubles as a wand, a dab of magic which reminds me of all the magical/crazy/affirming incidents that occured after her death.

I want to go to a thrift store now and buy a ton of frames and print photos out and put them in the frames and place them all over the house and see what else might drift up against them, securing them to my heart. Lol. 

A couple of days after Dad's second wedding, Dane and his husband were late arriving at a family function. But they were immediately forgiven when they arrived with framed photos from the wedding  for myself and his two aunts. the photo shows the 5 of us together at the wedding. A moment in time, beautifully captured.

May your day be full of moments to treasure.

I'm certain I've missed my true vocation.  Surely I should be naming crayon or paint or nail polish colours? The names captivate me. I marvel at the imagination of such folks that have these jobs and I always read and pay attention to the names of the colours, ever disappointed if they're simply a meangingless jumble of numbers. My friend Linda mentioned visiting her mom in a retirement home and painting her nails, mentioning that the staff had found the particular colours that her mom loves.
"What were  they called?" I asked her.
She replied, "I think one is called 'Dull Pink' and the other's 'Pretty Ugly Gold'. As you can see  I have no idea!"
I had to laugh, both at the humour in Linda's response and in our differences. The first thing I'd have done was to check the names! I used to think this was some sort of secret fetish of mine until I joined online painting groups and realised that so many of us covet naming colours as a job. Actually Linda could be a pretty accurate colour namer, although I don't think many people would want to buy them.

​Excuse the messiness of my painted nails. Unless I use a fast drying polish, I always smush it somehow. Too impatient. I'm also sloppy in applying it sometimes but I don't let that worry me too much. It is what it is--a bright or pretty reminder to have fun and pamper myself. I was always that kid with one sock down around my ankles and my hair falling out of its braids.  Now I'm that woman with nail polish on my cuticles.

Also I bite my nails. And cuticles. I know. I know. I didn't when I was pregnant. I couldn't stand biting my nails or drinking tea (which I love). My nails got so long when pregnant that I had to use a pen for our rotary dial phone. Did I ever feel elegant! I vowed to keep them like that but immediately started to bite them again after my son was born. An old habit that tells me something is on my mind long before I realise it consciously.

But back to colours. I was delighted when choosing nail colours to take with me while visiting my son in Arizona to stumble on a creamy neutral called Vacation Time. Well that was meant to be!

When choosing a shade of yellow paint for my kitchen, I must admit to being swayed by the name. So we have 'Falling Star' in the kitchen. In the bathroom, the walls are 'Peartree' and the ceiling is 'Oyster Shell'.

Imagine how dull and boring life would be without beautiful, interesting names to enhance colours. Imagine how creative the namers of colours have to be. Yep, pretty sure I missed my vocation there.

Wishing you the most colourful of days, in the most delightful ways.