Wednesday, February 29, 2012

That Which Comes

I have just been blessed with a vision of what we are moving toward. Some will not like what I have to say, because it will challenge their beliefs, but this ‘message’ is not based upon my own belief, but instead what I have been shown. I am still absorbing this information myself whilst I paint what I have been asked to paint, not with my brushes, but with words ...

Picture two bodies of water, both complete and flowing liquid states, joined but also separate because one layer is denser than the other. Much the same layering effect occurs when salt water and fresh water converge, as it is with hot water and cold water. Hot water rises, and cold water, because it is denser in nature, sinks. It is why those who make refrigerators put the freezer in the top, because it will help to cool the hottest part, while the colder air naturally sinks to the bottom.

So, again, I ask you to picture two bodies of water, one dense, and one not. Humanity dwells in the denser layer. For most, there has been no awareness of the layer above. We have been happy to dwell in the denser layer in a state of blissful ignorance.

Now I want you to imagine yourself to be a ping pong ball, but one that is connected to a weight just like a fisherman’s metal sinker. The depth at which you dwell – you, a being of pure ‘lightness’ or lightbeing’- is dependent upon the weight of the sinker. The heavier the sinker, the deeper you dwell, the lower you dwell, the lower your vibration.

What is this sinker? It is all that you burden yourself with. It is fear, anger, hurt, disappointment, guilt, blame, judgement, self-loathing, hate, rigid dogma, destructive patterns of behaviour, and conditioning. These things are heavy, weighted thoughts and emotions that we hold onto. They hold us down, and prevent us from rising. They limit us, restrict us, and serve only to have us dwelling in a state of lessened and limited potential.

Physicallity plays a part, but only in that when we feel good physically, we usually feel good emotionally and mentally too. As a result, those who are healthy in body will sometimes float a little higher than others. However, it matters not if the physical needs are being met, if the emotions are suppressed, repressed, denied, and avoided.

Too often, people who say they choose not to feel anger when someone attacks or challenges them, do actually respond and react on a subconscious level, but consciously reject that response. In doing so, instead of expressing and releasing, they deny and suppress. When they deny and suppress it anchors them and weighs them down. It becomes a burden that they often not even aware that they are carrying. It is the same with fear, and blame, and judgement, and guilt etcetera.  If you do not acknowledge, express, and release these feelings, they become a burden that weighs a ‘lightbeing’ down, and they will eventually manifest physically.

Now many have been challenged over the last two years to let go of their emotional burdens, and many of those around me who have denied their anger, have ultimately cracked under the weight of their suppressed emotions. Those who have acknowledged and sought to understand the reason behind their reactions have found themselves lifted up to the very edge of the dense layer in which we dwell. They are now so close to the lighter layer that they can feel its influence. They want to be a part of it with every fibre of their being.

That we are in a state of change is undeniable, but it is not an earth change that comes, but a shift in energy in our part of the universe. Just as the oceans of earth have different layers of density, so does the universe have its own energetic currents, and our planet, indeed our whole galaxy is moving toward a convergence of energy layers. This is what we are feeling. However, because we are so small on a consciousness level, our minds at this moment are incapable of absorbing or comprehending the magnitude of what is occurring. There have been many who have spoken of a wave that we are all riding toward this change, and to our limited perception, it does feel like a wave as it lifts us up out of the denser layer and up toward the lighter layer. It is carrying us along and so therefore it is a wave propelling us forward, and what we experience on this wave is awe-inspiring, exciting, and shows us glimpses of a reality we desire to live in, and so we want to stay on the wave.

Do you get the feeling that there is a big, big BUT coming? It’s coming, but in a wee bit.

While many have faced down their emotional hurts and believe they have overcome them, they have, at this point, simply acknowledged that they have them and have responded in a productive manner to show that they can live and function despite them. Many have this productiveness confused with true healing. They are aware of their hurts, but have not actually dealt with or treated the root cause.  This is why many have found themselves to be ‘still dealing with the same shit’ – still being met with challenges, restrictions, drama, confusion, confrontation, resistance.  

Positive action will lift you and buoy you and help you stay on top of the ‘wave’, but if you have not dealt with the root cause, you have not actually cut the cord of the weight that holds you in a lower vibration.

The same goes for thoughts and beliefs. The moment you say cannot, should not, must not, it is the moment when you restrict yourself and add more weight to the burden you carry. The moment you define and label, you limit and again add still more weight to the burden you carry. If your spiritual belief system is rigid and inflexible, bound by tradition and history, it will not matter if your body is fluid and strong, because you have made your mind weak.  A closed, rigid, and fearful mind is even heavier than an obese body, and just as harmful to your health.

However, I have digressed a little …

Over the last months there has been great change occurring as we all begin reaching for this lighter layer that we can sense.  It is both moving toward us as we are moving towards it. As a result of our movement toward each other, it feels like waves are being created and many are being picked up and carried by those waves and many believe that those waves are taking them toward and into the new era.

Now we get back to discussing the big BUT …

The problem is, that the waves are not waves, but instead the natural whirlpool-like eddying and swirling that forms where two layers of different densities meet and converge. The more you disturb these two layers the bigger those eddying swirls become as they move along the join. Again, our consciousness is so small that we think the swirling eddy is a wave and as it lifts those on the wave higher than they have ever been before, they believe this to be both an affirmation and the result of their hard work.

However, many are not actually entering the lighter layer. They have not broken free of the denser water, because they still hold on to a way of thinking that weighs them down. They have not been able to embrace the awareness that their truths are not absolute and that simple acknowledgement of their hurts is not the same as removing the source of infection that dwells beneath those hurts.

It is so hard to explain something of this nature without contradicting oneself in the attempt to explain it, but when you embrace a belief or opinion that rejects another person’s beliefs because that belief challenges your own then your beliefs become more rigid. It is sometimes not a conscious act, but instead a subconscious by-product of your choices. Regardless, your vibration becomes heavier. It becomes a burden that holds your lightbeing down.

To enter this ‘new era’ … to actually gain access to the new energy of the lighter waters that we can sense and feel swirling around us, requires that  we cut the cord that binds us to the burdens we carry. Only once the weight has been removed will your lightbeing self break through from the denser layer into to the lighter layer, and how far you progress into that lighter layer, will again be determined by how much of the burden you have released. You can rise into it slowly as you let go of one burden after the other, or you can let go of them all at once and rocket upwards breaking through into the unknown without a fear or care.

However, some are going to discover that they are being pulled back down into the denser layer, back to a lower vibration. Why? Because the lift they experienced was not the result of their letting go, but simply that they had been picked up in a swirling eddy, lifted up on a temporary high, only to then be swirled back down into the depths. This is why some have experienced a temporary rush, only to then find themselves experiencing a state of being that is even more chaotic, troubled, upsetting, and confusing than it ever was before. It is more intense and upsetting because they felt so blissfully good as they were lifted up toward the lighter layer. They were lifted. They did not ascend, and they did not ascend, because they still have more to healing and releasing to do.

There is no escape from facing and healing the infection that is the source of all destructive patterns of behaviour. If you are not willing to face the truth of you, or even accept that you are ultimately responsible for all that you experience, then you will remain in the denser layer. I would caution you to think twice about riding the waves with the belief that they are an affirmation, because if you are not doing the inner work then the waves are in essence an illusion. They do not carry you forward toward this new energy, but only serve to temporarily lift you a little higher so you can feel it like a second skin against your own. If you have done the healing work, you can choose that moment to let go and break through. Use it to propel you upwards.

We are meant to continue rising – to break through that skin - not be carried along the seam where those two layers meet until the current swirls downward and you sink once more. You will only continue to rise if you continue to let go.

When you can walk through life unchallenged by an opinion, see that you are unique but the same as everyone else; understanding that another can have a totally contradictory belief and perception and that you can both exist in harmony, then you will lift higher. When you embrace the awareness that all on this planet are equal, with no one being worse or better, even those who you hate, who do harm, who are greedy, ignorant, and unenlightened, then you will rise even higher.

This era we dwell in is indeed a time of ascension, and it has nothing to do with letting go of our physical forms. It is however, an opportunity to embrace a lighter state of being. We are all lightbeings. It has nothing to do with light or shadow, good or evil, or right and wrong. It has nothing to do with light at all, nor the divisiveness of duality. It has more to do with weight, and letting go of the burdens that restrict and limit us - that make us heavier than we need to or have to be. That requires that we put back together that which was never meant to be separate. We must become whole on both a personal and global level, and to do that we all have to let go of beliefs that only serve to divide.

We must each first understand and recognise what our individual burdens are – and too often, our way of thinking, our beliefs, our need to analyse, define, label, and categorise are just as burdensome and divisive as our emotions can be.

This has nothing to do with rejecting knowledge and the opportunity to experience in order to learn and grow, or avoiding responsibilities, but more to do with embracing the awareness that we must not become mentally and emotionally rigid and inflexible.  More often than not, when we build our learning on traditions rooted in history it becomes a foundation fixed in the past. It can prevent your mind from embracing the true mysterious, unexplainable essence of Divinity.

This new layer we move toward is not a place where the past matters. It is a beginning. It is a state of being where the moment is all you are meant to live and embrace, and you cannot do that if you are determined to hold on to the past.

This is not about right or wrong. There is no right or wrong.  That is a divisive state of being that again weighs a person down. Where you are right now is where you are meant to be, but just keep in mind that the destination you may be seeking is not forward, but up and whether or not you will break through from one layer to the other is dependent on you and whether you can let go of the burdens that prevent your lightbeing from rising.

Big Dreams, Little Dreams, My Dream

It is important to have dreams and goals. They motivate. They give us reason and purpose. But sometimes we can dream too big, and when those dreams are not realised and goals go unachieved, we can fall into despair. We begin a cycle of dream big, fail big, punish hard. It's a cruel pattern of behaviour, and so very unnecessary.

Now, I am not suggesting that people should give up those big, bright dreams. This dreamer has big dreams and when I first began to walk this creative path, my dreams were the big bright fearless dreams of a four year old who has no understanding of impossible - I wanted to write and illustrate and touch others in the way I had been touched by beautiful art as a child. I had no idea how to make that dream manifest, but I wanted it to with all of my heart.

But as an adult, my dreams and waking became a nightmare. My life became a battlefield of confusion, hurt, and anger as I lived each and every day with depression. I had no big dreams, and my only goal was to smile, to hide my emptiness, and to survive each day. I lived in limbo, until the day I broke completely and had my feet placed upon a healing path. Suddenly, I had a goal - to be healed. Little did I realise then, how big a role this one goal, this dream, would play in my life.

I began to dream again. I wanted to write and to paint. So I did. It mattered not that I could hardly draw. It mattered not that my writing skills were those of a high school dropout. I painted, and I wrote, and I showed both to all and everyone. My efforts were met with both love and derision. I was both nurtured and scorned. But just as my depression could never overwhelm me completely, that big dream of the child could never be erased. Even when it was not a conscious part of my memory, it was never forgotten.

Over time, my dreams grew even bigger. The desire to write and illustrate and to touch others with my words and art became my goal, only equalled by my desire to be healed. But I had so very much to learn and I had so much healing still to do. Learning became rushed and healing could not come swiftly enough.

So, for a time, I learned the hard way how to fail. I had to learn everything all at once. I had to accomplish everything in the shortest amount of time possible. I saw what others were doing and I followed their lead. I spoke other's words, and embraced other's dreams as my own. I took on many roles, wanting to be the best, wanting to succeed at everything I did, but not allowing myself the time and space to learn one thing well so that I could become adept.

No, I wanted my dream to manifest in the shortest time possible, and I would do anything and everything possible to make it manifest ... except give time.

Around and around I went - I painted teddy bears because teddy bear art is as collectable as the teddy bears themselves, and when that did not work, I turned to RPG character portraits. I would become a game artist. At the same time, I dabbled in reading dreams, and played at being a witch and wise woman, and then wondered why older women - wiser women - were laughing at me and looking at me with the same amusement a grandmother looks at a child who does something foolish and silly.

I focussed upon what others were doing, others were saying, and wanted their success for my own, and so I mimicked and copied, and then wondered why I failed when everything crashed down around me. I stumbled and fell time and time again. My art was improving, but not fast enough. My writing was improving, but not fast enough. My spiritual self was growing but not fast enough. My healing was coming but my progress was painfully slow, and with every great and grand failure, it slowed even further. Oh I looked at so many others with blame in my eyes and heart. Someone else had to be responsible for my failures, because if I were responsible then I would have to punish myself. It was so much easier to blame others. It didn't hurt as much as the burden of self-directed anger and loathing.

No, healing was still a long, long, long way off.

Words from one of my older wiser friends would come back to haunt me, time and time again during those tumultuous days. She was one of those wiser, older women who one day sat me down and asked me what the fuck I was doing. She gave me a talking to which I did not understand the importance of for several more years. She told me to do one thing at a time. Love it enough to want to learn everything, but then learn each lesson one at a time. Don't rush the learning. Learn well. Learn what you love so that you know it inside and out, back to front, and upside-down. Choose to be the master of one skill that fills you with joy, than be the Jack of all trades and master of none who does the many things because they are afraid of failing at the one role they love the most.

With her words, my goal became simpler. I chose to paint. I put my writing to the side and I focussed on learning how to paint. I painted, and I painted, and with every painting, I learned. I made mistakes, and I learned from them. I learned how to undo them. I learned how to make mistakes into something that enhanced the painting instead of destroying the vision.

I was learning, but still making the same mistakes too. You see, whilst I was learning how to paint, I was painting book cover art and dreaming of becoming the next big cover artist. I was also painting fairies, not because I liked them, but because they were marketable and were going to make me FAMOUS. I was going to become the next big thing in the licensing world and see my art be used for books, calendars, statues, toys, EVERYTHING. But those dreams failed too, because they were what others wanted for me, not what I wanted for me.

I was still healing, and learning, but I was also doing everything the hard way. I had to make every experience a battle to be fought, and one in which I was usually wounded so that I had another scar to remind me of the lesson that needed learning ... or to become infected if I ignored the lesson.

One day, I realised that I had lost myself again. I was growing older, growing wiser about the world around me, and growing in artistic ability, but I still had no real sense of self and I had lost sight of that big dream. Just as I had played at being the psychic, just as I had played at being the fantasy writer, I was playing with my own healing. I was committed to my art, but why? The commercial path left me feeling so empty and unfulfilled. Where was I going? Was I ever going to write and illustrate my own projects, or was I going to be an artist who forever paints other’s ideas and visions?

I had no visions of my own. My dreams were not mine. Did I want that big dream to manifest, or was I to continue in a cyclic pattern of self-destruction and self-sabotage? I realised, in one of those rare moments of clarity, that in order to have my dream realised, I first had to understand the dreamer. So my goals became twofold again - to paint and to know myself ... to heal.

And ironically, the writing - the dream that I thought I was putting aside at the time - was a crucial part of that self-exploration, but we won't mention that wee point will we?

So, I painted, and I began to discover that with every painting, I learned more about myself - the dreamer. I learned to listen to my thoughts as I painted. I wrote them down. I read those thoughts. I studied them. I analysed and I theorised. I learned to see patterns and habits. I learned about what I liked and disliked and why. I learned about my strengths and weaknesses. I learned what makes me happy and what makes me sad, what makes my blood boil, and what can reduce me to hysterical laughter. I discovered how passionate and spiritual I am, and I explored both my passion and my faith, and in that last bit of learning, came the truth of my dreams.

Suddenly, the visions began, and what I saw filled me with awe and excitement. Everything began to fall into place. I saw everything – the patterns, the way my choices had moved me from one moment to the next. I saw … me.

This dream, the big dream of the child, is the role I chose before this life began. It is my destiny, my life's purpose, and all that I have lived and experienced has played a part in making that big dream manifest. It’s not a dream that was ever going to manifest over a period of a few years. It is a dream that would take a lifetime.

I was never meant to paint pretty, empty pictures, nor meant to write fantasy stories. No, my purpose is to share my visions, my faith, and my connection with the Divine, and my healing is intrinsically tied to all three.

It is the dream of this dreamer to help others to feel and nurture the same connection and to find the same healing.

Now that's a big dream to have.

But this dreamer is now wise. Yes, still learning, but wiser for all the lessons that have been learned. The wisdom gained has taught me one very important lesson.

When one battles with depression, one learns how to dream small. To have dreams that are too big can result in the dreamer being overwhelmed and overcome. I learned how to do all the small things first. I learned that healing is a path that can take millions of steps to complete, and I learned that the journey can only be made one step at a time.

So, this dreamer with a big dream keeps things simple. I no longer allow myself to lose sight of the big dream, but now I treat it like a painting. I have broken the big dream up into smaller dreams, and each of those smaller dreams are further broken down into simple, achievable goals. If I close my eyes, I can see the big picture, but when they are open, they are focussed upon the only thing that matters … the little details.

It may seem like it some days, but I now do one thing at a time. I live in the moment, and focus upon what I am doing in that moment with the only what I am doing in that moment in mind. Right now, my attention is on the tale I tell, and I will not rush it in order to have it done sooner rather than later. No, I take all the time I need, so that what I create is what it is meant to be and the best it can be. It matters not that my painting sits on the other side of the room, waiting for me to return to it. I will get back to it when it is time, and when I do, my focus will be upon it and it alone.

I do not dream big anymore. I dream small and invest my all and everything into that little dream so that it manifests true and bright, a part of the big dream, but also independent of it.  

And every little dream becomes a shining, refined detail in the painting that is the big dream. I have not given up on the big dream, but I won't rush the creative process just to have that dream manifest. Again, the big dream is not something that will manifest in one year or five. It is not meant to. I cannot do the big dream justice if I am not willing to learn all that is required first.

As I sit here at the end of my tale,  I have to take a moment to laugh a little at the irony of it all, you see, while I no longer focus on the big dream, I often forget that I am also living it in the present. That is what happens when the big dream takes a life time – you live it in every moment. I am already touching and inspiring others with my words and my art. I do it every day, but I often forget that I am.

But I did say that my dreams are big. They are ‘Hans Christen Andersen’ big, for it was a book of his fairy tales that inspired the big dream in the four year old who looked with awe at the artworks within a book that she could not yet read. Just as his stories have touched and inspired many thousands of people, that is what I want for my art. I want it to touch and inspire thousands of people. No, I do not want this because I desire fame. I simply want others to know this love that I feel.

The Dream

In the days before faekind, the Earth was empty of magic. Each day was the same. The sun rose and set, the seasons came and went. There was beauty, but it was dulled by a strange sameness. All things were born, grew old, and died, the people of the world laughed and cried, loved and hated. They lived in their beautiful world, but when they slept that world vanished. Before the first dream, the slumber of humanity was dreamless. There was nothing but the void.

Until one day a small child fell asleep under the shade of large and mighty oak tree. This tree was alive as all trees are, but not just living. It was sentient, aware. It was one of the first trees - the eldest - and it was intrigued by the dreamless slumber of the child who lay cradled in the safety of its roots. 

It probed the young child's mind gently. Carefully, it sifted through the small store of memories held at its very core and as it looked it grew sad. Humans saw the world around them, but only the surface. They did not see the beneath or the between. 

Humans saw only themselves. They did not see the blood flow in their veins. They did not see the life that pulsed beneath the bark of a tree. Nor did they see the distant planets in the night sky, or the differing realities that existed like layers of an onion. Humans were bereft of any imagination. Their souls held no magic. 

Without magic humanity would eventually destroy itself. Without imagination, they would never grow, or see beyond the now. They would remain in an endless cycle of birth and death until they spiraled inwards and consumed themselves. Without magic all humans would become greedy and arrogant. They would become evil. 

The ancient oak did not want this to be the fate of humans. It enjoyed the innocent laughter of the young children who played at its roots and climbed among its lowest branches. No, humans must learn to dream and create magic with their minds and hearts. With magic the veil between worlds would lift. This would allow humans to see the different creatures who existed in the Ether. They would look beyond their daily existence and see new realities. 

They would not only dream, they would also create and give new life to the energies that existed in the place between worlds. 

So the tree placed a seed within the fertile mind of the child it watched over and delighted as it took root and began to grow. Magic would be born on this day.
Jairus twitched and smiled in his sleep. The rough bark behind his head and back were the softest of pillows, the grass beneath a sweet-smelling bed. In a place that was once dark a light now shone. Where once there was the void there was now something other. 

And the child was not alone in this new place. 

A splendid creature unlike anything he had ever seen circled in the sky above the tree. Downward it spiraled, closer, and large it became. Without a sound it landed next to him. Large crimson eyes regarded him with a blend of amusement and curiosity. "Why do you call me from the ether, little human?" 

"Call?" the child asked and reached out to touch the scaly creature beside him. "I did nay call you." 

The first dragon laughed and flexed its sapphire wings. "It matters not if you did. I am here." 

The child giggled in response. "What be you? I've never seen nuthin' as pretty as you b'fore?" 

"I am a dragon, the first dragon. Would you like to go for a ride?" 

The child's eyes went wide. "You mean fly? Way up in the sky?"

Again the dream creature laughed. "Of course..." 

With teeth as long as Jarius' arms, the dragon lifted the child by his tunic and braes and placed him in the groove between its shoulder blades. "Now you be sure to hold on tight, little human. There be a scale ridge just before you. You hold on to it or you may slip off." 

Jarius did as he was asked. His face was bright with excitement. "Where will we go? Can we fly to the mountains? Can we? Can we fly to the sea?"

"We can fly where ever you wish to fly, Jarius."

"How do you know my name?" 

"I am in your dream, child. I know all that you are and all that you think of." 

"Dream? What is a dream?" 

"This is," and the dragon leapt into the air. 

Jarius squealed with glee, but remembered to hold on tight as they flew upwards. In several heartbeats they were above the trees and almost touching the clouds. Everything below grew small and Jarius could see forever. 

The dragon flew across forest and grasslands, lakes and rivers, until the mountains rose before them like mighty beasts of earth and rock. The dragon went higher and began to weave in and out of the snowy peaks. 

There was snow all around, but Jarius felt no cold. The dragon's wings sliced through misty clouds, yet not a droplet or bead of their moisture dampened Jarius' skin. On the dragon's back, the child sat protected from the elements his mouth open in an O of speechless amazement. 

Then just as he did not think his 'dream' could get any better, the dragon's azure wings took them through to the other side of the mountains to where the ocean lapped at their base. From where the child sat, the sea below was an endless sapphire jewel edged with white where the waves crashed against the shore. 

All at once, the dragon began to descend. Down he spiraled towards a wide strip of white sand. Closer they came, until Jarius was forced to shield his eyes from the blinding glare that came off the sand beneath. But as soon as the dragon's feet touched the ground the child was clambering down across its shoulder and down its leg to the beach.

The dragon smiled at the rapt expression on Jarius' face. To be so young, and to take pleasure in all things new was something the dragon had not experienced for many millennia. It felt joy that it could bestow such a gift. It knew this dream would be something the child would treasure forever.

"Oh, Dragon!" Jarius said, his words ending with a sigh of happiness. "I cannot believe I am here!"

The child laughed and clapped his hands together, then turned and ran towards the water's edge. Small dusty feet were quickly washed clean by the cold waves that raced towards him and his squeals and shrieks broke the stillness as he dodged in and out of the water. 

And when he could not run and play anymore, Jarius collapsed in the wet sand at the dragon's side and hunted for shells and treasure with his short, chubby fingers. 

"So where do you live?" he asked while his hands made mountains out of sand. 

"I used to live in the Ether between worlds, Jarius." 

"Between worlds?" 

"Yes, child. There are many worlds like this one. They are all connected by the Ether. The place where we wait to be born." 

"There are more of you? More dragons?" 

The dragon's body shook with silent laughter. "Yes, child. There are many, and not only dragons. There are whole races of fae just waiting for someone to believe in them just as others believe in humans." 

"Someone believes in us? Is that why we are here?" 

The dragon smiled again. "You have a quick mind, child. I suspect that is why you were chosen by the eldest to be the first. Yes, there are other beings that dream of you and when they dream they weave powerful magics. They create and make you real." 

"So 'cause I have dreamed of you, you are now real?" 

The dragon smiled a draconic smile. Its eyes were bright with the same pleasure that glowed in the eyes of the child. "Yes child, you have given me life. You have given me physical form, and now, others will see me and they too will believe, and with that belief I will remain alive."

Jarius leaned back against the dragon. He yawned and mumbled sleepily, "and there are others?"
"Yes, Jarius. There are thousands, and thousands of fae in the Ether. Creatures both beautiful and ugly, both wise and dangerous. They are all there … waiting."
When Jarius woke again, the dragon was gone and he was back under the tree where he had fallen asleep. His clothes were dry, the sand and salt was gone from his skin and in their place were the same dirty smudges that were there before. 

Did this dream really happen? Was a dream not real? 

It is as real as you wish to make it, little one.
Jarius sat up, and looked around. Suddenly, a large shadow flew across the sky and darkened the sun. The dragon? The child could not be certain. But he smiled. He believed. 

Jarius grew to become a young man, and that young man became the first Bard. He dedicated his life to sharing his dreams and planting the seeds of magic in the minds of young and old alike.

With the planting of each new seed a fae was born. Until one day, they were many and they walked in the lands of humans. They were the magic and magic now had a name. 


The Story of Mistress of the Wells

“Emotions flow like water. They can be joyous like a babbling brook, as deep and strong as a river. Give yourself permission to feel and experience them without judgement or blame. Do not try to deny them for that can only lead to harm and disease. Do not dam them within you. Release them. Let them flow, and go. Allow yourself to feel, and learn from them, as you embrace them for what they are - a natural response to the moment that you exist in that will pass as the moment passes.”

Painting Mistress of the Wells was a magical learning experience. From the very moment the linework was completed, I was infatuated with her. I knew in my heart that she was going to be something special and powerful. I could not wait to paint her. She was all I thought about.

But then I began to dwell on the fact that she was going to be the largest painting I had ever worked on. When your role is to illustrate oracle and tarot cards, you become quite used to working at a smaller size. You learn to paint only as large as you need to. Your technique becomes quite fixed and formulaic, and painting a tree at the usual size is quite easy. I discovered, not long into the painting process, that painting the same tree at a much larger size involves learning a whole new technique.

Infatuation became edged with worry. How was I going to paint this artwork and do her justice? I felt like a rank amateur
  … a novice … a newbie. It is a feeling I do not like. I do not like feeling unsure and uncertain.

I know many artists who would have allowed these feelings to still their brushes. I am, however, a rather determined soul, and I was all too willing to see where this particular journey would take me.
So I began to paint. I used the same technique that I use on my smaller works, and at first I had only to make a few changes to find a method that worked. I painted the arch of sky behind her, using acrylics as if they were watercolours with wet greens on wet blues. The sky was easy, and my nervousness dissipated as I painted and fell into the flow. I moved back into a state of pure infatuation.

But then I had to paint the trees and their leaves. I fell out of the flow with a thud as the painting progressed into an experimental learning stage. My infatuation waned. I painted tree trunks and branches with gritted teeth, building up layers of colour from darker to lighter. I reworked areas over and over again until they were right. Then I would take a step back and only see everything that was not right.

I began to feel … anger, frustration … even moments of hate. I felt pressured as my deadline loomed. This now ugly painting, with all of its flaws and challenges, was beginning to feel like too much hard work. Did I continue? Or did I scrap it and paint something else?

Instead, I did nothing. Instead, I put the painting back on the easel and stared at it. My feelings were so tumbled and jumbled. Again, I am a very determined person; determined to the point of being stubborn. This painting was not going to best me. I was not going to walk away from this experience knowing I had given up. But with the canvas at that particularly horrible stage where the purity of the line work was hidden behind messy layers of basecoat, I could no longer ‘see’ the finished image in mind’s eye.
For the first time in a very long time, I wished for an accident – maybe a hole would appear in the canvas – so I had an excuse, a valid reason, not to continue.

But Great Spirit and Gaia wanted me to learn and I have always been open to their lessons. They wanted me to understand. They wanted me to experience the rollercoaster ride of falling in love, and allowing one’s self to just flow with the emotions to see where they would lead.

With two weeks remaining, I picked up my brushes again. I let go of all the frustration and anger. Instead, I chose to hold on to the memory of the joy I felt when I first finished the linework and have faith in my abilities. I made a choice to work through the confusion and unsureness. Why? Because I knew in my heart that she would be worth it.

I painted for hours every day, sometimes ten to fifteen hours without stopping for more than a few minutes here and there. Slowly, but surely, everything began to appear as it should.

By the time her face was painted, I was in love. Her third eye watched me as I carefully – lovingly - refined one detail after the other. Still, there came a few more moments of fear here and there. I felt a flash of pure terror when carelessness resulted in a dab of paint landing where it should not be, and when my hand came too close to the canvas and smudged wet paint. But these things were easily fixed, and whilst I worked, I found myself seeing the parallels between my experience with this painting, and falling in love with a new friend or lover.

There comes a point in most new relationships when infatuation wanes and you begin to see flaws and discover things about the other that you are not sure you like. Rose-coloured glasses are removed and all that was hidden by attraction and infatuation are suddenly revealed.

If you can accept those flaws, and love despite them, you can move forward and make a commitment to share more time and space together, and once that commitment is made, the relationship develops and deepens, moving from infatuation and lust, to a deep and abiding love.

I was glad I chose not to end it my relationship with Mistress of the Wells, for what she taught me turned out to be quite important to my own healing journey.
  A twenty-eight year  battle with depression and self-loathing has come to an end, in part, because of my time spent painting her. She is a great healer, and imbued with the full spectrum of emotion, but birthed and finished from a place of love. She showed me the truth of our emotions; that they are natural and normal reactions to an experience. It is what we do with those feelings, and how we respond to them that is important.

Let the emotions flow. Experience them. Cherish what they can teach you. Every moment should be lived with feeling, but those feelings must be expressed and released. Doing so, allows you to be open and receptive to the feelings you will experience in moment that come without being chained to the past.
See The Signs

“We are often sent small signs in the form of synchronicities and coincidences. Be watchful. Do not overlook them in the everyday rush of life. Words, numbers, and symbols that repeat, animals and birds that appear in your path, people who come in and out of your life at odd or similar moments, and those flashes of knowing when you believe something will happen with every fibre of your being. These are all things you are meant to see and hear; messages from Gaia and Great Spirit sent to aid your journey.”

Twelve years ago, I read a book that changed my life, because it made sense of experiences that did not make sense. No, I will not influence the story by giving the name of the book, but instead will say only that it introduced me to the philosophical concept of Synchronicity. In essence, Synchronicity is when two or more seemingly unrelated occurrences, that would usually not occur together, do so, and do so in a meaningful way. It is that moment when the same words, in unrelated texts, keep drawing your attention and send you off on a tangent that in turn leads you to a moment when your life is changed forever. It is when an animal or bird appears in your path and does something that catches your attention in a manner that has you remembering a conversation that you had with your wife. That memory triggers another that then changes the course of your day as you remember something of importance that needs to be done.

Coincidence? Or did the word keep appearing because Great Spirit was communicating with you? Maybe the bird was sent by Gaia and Great Spirit to give you a message?

There was a time when I would have laughed such an occurrence away and called it coincidence, but as my connection with Gaia and Great Spirit has deepened, and my trust in myself and my intuitive abilities has strengthened, I have come to understand that the Divine speak to us every day. It is only our inability, and unwillingness, to first see the messenger, and then hear and trust message, that blocks the flow of communication between ‘God’ and self.

Over the last nine years, my life has been guided by such messages. Not once have I led to a place where I did not need, or was not meant, to be. So when my guides asked me to speak their message, I did so willingly and from a place of true knowing.

I used to be afraid to say that Great Spirit and Gaia speak to me. Who wants to be labelled crazy or worse, have others offer an armchair diagnosis of schizophrenia? But now I have come to see that it is those who have closed themselves off to dialogue with the Divine who live in fear of life itself. I have no fear of Gaia or Great Spirit. I worship no god. Instead, I honour my spiritual parents and love them as I do my family. I trust in them, knowing that they will always be there, sharing their wisdom and guidance by sending their messengers to me, or touching my mind directly.  

Lament of the Unfaithful

I met you half a life ago
In days of heat and fire.
Your smile so bright, enchanted me;
Your laugh made my heart whole.
But now the laughter has fled your lips.
Your smile is hard and cold.
Where have you gone, my dearest heart?
I beg you, please come home.

I met you half a life ago
In days that never rained.
You wooed me with low sweet words
That touched me to my soul.
But now your words art full of spite;
The sweet has turned to bitter.
Where have you gone, my dearest love?
I beg you, please come home.

I met you half a life ago --
In days of sapphire hue.
My spirit did soar when you did whisper ...
Those words, "I love you true!"
But now your heart is full of hate,
And rage that turns you from me.
Where have you gone, my life, my soul?
I beg you, please come home.

I lost you one half moons ago --
On a night of full moonshine.
You found your love with another ...
Upon sheets of blackest satin.
Your face it paled in the pale of night;
Your eyes showed your own heartbreak.
Your spirit fled, my one true love;
I beg you, please come home.

I lost you one half moons ago --
A moment I forever curse.
My folly, my foolishness, my prideful heart ...
Turned by another's sweet words.
Forgive me please, my other half;
Please return, I beg of you.
For my foolish heart shall never love,
Another as I love you.

I beg you, please come home.

An Excerpt from the Journal of Princess A'merellelei

Willow - 5th day.
I never know what is going to happen from one minute to the next when she is around. Grandmother always disturbs the peaceful camaraderie of any gathering. Father must want to die of embarrassment sometimes. Grandmother can sit in a room full of starving people, toying with her pearls and diamonds, and whine about the trials and tribulations of having to eat a pear with a bruise upon its surface. 

And she is so very … human. 

I used to dread when she came to the woods to visit. She would blunder about with her big feet, big bust, and loud voice. There is no gentleness to her. Everything is so extreme. Her hair is always over-powdered, her lips are always over-rouged, and she always wears too much jewellery. Simple cotton garments patterned with subtle designs would never suffice. Oh no! All of her clothes must be made of garish silks and satins of clashing colours. 'Subtlety' is definitely something she lacks. 

What's worse is that I am so very small next to grandmother, even though I am fully grown. It is obvious to all that I take after my elven sire. That is why grandmother left me here when I was but a babe. Mother died when she birthed me and left grandmother bewailing that she could not possibly look after a babe with pointed ears and purple eyes. 

When grandmother comes for her monthly visits, she barrels up to me and sweeps me up into an embrace that I can only describe as smothering. Imagine the horror a waif of an elf-child would feel if a behemoth was to pick it up and squeeze it into the cleft between two mountainous, sweaty bosoms? 'Tis just the stuff to give a child nightmares for years to come. 

In the end, I began to hide in the cedar grove when grandmother came to call. As soon as her carriage was sighted, I would vanish. I would remain throughout blazing heat, or mighty storm. No amount of nearby lightening strikes could coax me out of my chosen tree. I would rather die a sizzling death, than be smothered in between grandmother's perpetually sweaty breasts. 

Father reproached me when I began doing this. He claimed I was wicked and heartless. He still loves my mother, and never took another consort after she died. This is something the elvan court is very upset about. They detest Father's ties to the humans. Lord T'ristimerele believes grandmother is a spy for the human King, but the other Lords and Ladies almost died laughing when he voiced his suspicions. 

Grandmother? A spy? She is more than that. Grandmother is actually a witch, a witch in the employ of King Llewellyn. How do I know? Today I did something of which I am not very proud. I followed my grandmother when she returned home. I spied upon her, just like she spies upon us. What I discovered leaves me shaken. 

Grandmother is more than just a spy, she is an ambassador who works to forge a peaceful alliance between humans and elves. Father and King Llewellyn seek to end the years of enmity between the two races, and grandmother is the only one who has ever been able to move freely back and forth between the two peoples.
And she knows I know. 

I don't know what to do with the knowledge I have. I am elf, and personally, I despise humanity for what they have done to my people. I am not sure if I want peace between our races. I am torn. The only real contact I have had with them is the contact I have with my grandmother and I rather dislike my grandmother. But I now wonder if she really is whom she portrays herself to be, or if she is someone I do not know at all. Is she someone I can trust? Father obviously trusts her, but Father has always refused to look at history's pages. Humans have never changed. They are not capable of it. 

Willow - 7th day.
I could not write anything within my journal yesterday. Lord D'larshinae asked me to spend the day falconing with him. I was so surprised by his invitation that I could barely stammer out a yes. 

Lord D'lar is the most sought after bachelor in all the seven camps. And he asked me?? 

When we returned, we dined within the perfumed opulence of his tents. Is it possible to die from lust? That man is so deliciously tempting, with his hard body and those soft lips. Last night I dreamed that we made love, and woke this morning with a wet ache between my thighs. That ache has stayed with me all day. 

Yesterday was perfect but for one thing. Why would D'lar want to talk about my grandmother? He asked me about her several times yesterday. Strange little questions they were too. Methinks I will play the naiveté for a while longer and see what it is my beautiful darling elflord is after. 

Willow - 10th day.
Men can be so foolish sometimes. He might be beautiful, but if he thinks I am so gullible, then the man is a halfwit. I used to think that an inflated ego was a very human thing, but it is becoming more apparent that elven males are guilty of this arrogance also. 

Why would an elflord, who previously scorned me because of my mixed blood heritage, suddenly change his opinions and try to instead woo the one he despises? Lust is a funny thing. It tends to wear off rather quickly when the object of your desire is out of site. And D'lar has been doing his best to avoid me for the last three days. 

But he does not seem to realize how cunning this female is. I have been watching again. I discovered when I was a child that nobody wants to see me. If they do not 'see' me, they cannot be reminded that their King begot his heir upon a human woman. This cruelty hurt me when I was a child, but over time I began to see its advantages. I now move through the camps like one who is invisible. Nobody wants to see me, so therefore they don't. 

D'lar went riding today. He left just after dawn, and rode west, towards the Summerland. I always ride just before sunrise, so it was rather good timing that I saw him leave as I was returning. I followed him from within the woods that bordered his path. It would seem that my feral childhood has given me several advantages. I know the woodlands well enough to know every pathway through them. 

Much to my astonishment, my no longer ardent admirer met with Lord T'ristimerele in a ruined temple several leagues from the home camp. I must confess, my heart was somewhat wounded when I witnessed the younger elflord lean in his saddle and kiss Lord T'ristimerele most passionately. But the pieces of this confusing puzzle are starting to fall into place. 

They were not the only participants in this clandestine tryst. Within several heartbeats, over a handful of elven nobles joined the lovers. What to do, what to do? By the time I got close enough to hear, much had already been said. Thank the Goddess, I heard enough to give me forewarning of what was to come.
Did I say how foolish men are yet? What I did hear was shocking. Lord D'lar and Lord T'ristimerele were doing their best to convince the other lords to let them approach me? They want me to betray my grandmother, and depose Father? Why would they want me to do that? 

Because they know I hate humans. 

And they are right. I have always despised humans, and revile the human blood that flows under my skin. If I could bleed it out, I would. If I could be wholly elf, I would be.

But I am not. And I love my Father most dear. What to do, what to do? What is this web in which I find myself? Am I the spider? Or am I the prey? 

I also wonder - mayhap, D'lar was not so repelled by my heritage, and was more repelled by my sex. Yes?

Willow - 11th day.
I watch. I wait. Father told me that grandmother is coming to visit at the end of the week. There was an urgency in his voice, and more than a little fear. He is worried about something. 

Willow - 12th day.
They came. Lord T'ristimerele and Lord D'lar. I am still surprised by their audacity. Lord T'ristimerele informed me that he knows of my grandmother's deception. His underlings have been watching her for years, and know she is both witch and spy. 

Lord T'ristimerele wants me to kill my grandmother, an in doing so, destroy any chance of the treaty being signed. He says I am the only person who can do it. Grandmother trusts me. 

Again I find myself wondering if I am the spider, or the prey. I am no fool. They will get the same results if I should die instead. They will also be rid of a half elf princess. 

Willow - 13th day.
I feel sick. My stomach hurts. I cannot eat. Lord D'lar came to me today. They want an answer. I hope I will be forgiven for this. 

I told them yes. I will kill my grandmother as she journeys to the camp.

Willow - 21st day.
Father had Lords D'lar, T'ristimerele, Strinariea, P'lansthios, R'linishea and D'slenirea arrested today. They are to be tried for treason. And I am glad. I did say men were foolish creatures did I not? They are foolish because they assume to understand the mind of a woman. 

Since discovering that my grandmother is a spy, I have learned one very important thing. She and I are very alike. I get my cunning and my love for intrigue from the one woman I thought I hated above all others. 

I have known for some time that another reads my journal. That is why I have filled it with half truths, and traps of my own. 

I did spy on my grandmother, and I did despise her for many years. But on discovering the truth, I was allowed to see the real woman, and I found myself liking her immensely. And she is also very cunning. What better way to win over another person than by asking them to help. 

Grandmother knew Lord T'ristimerele was conspiring to destroy any chances of a treaty between the two races, so she asked me to help expose them. They made it so very easy. 

But I hear you wondering why I would help others to join my people in peace to a race I despise. What reason do I have? 

I have no love for humanity. I never will. But I have always honoured the wishes of family above all others. My father desired peace, so peace is my gift to him. 

Tuesday, February 7, 2012


The Witchwood Journal is currently undergoing a major overhaul so it may be used once more. Please keep a watch on this page, as I will be writing and sharing my thoughts with you once more as soon as I have finished making changes to the rest of my web world. Until then, why don't you come over and join me on my facebook page where I share all of my art and thoughts first.

Blessings and smiles