Friday, 14 September 2012

Back to the connection

Sometimes I find that it is best to just hold up your hands and admit that life got in the way of a project, that it is time to let that project go, instead of letting that unfinishedness turn into taunting - another endless item on the to do list. I fully intended to follow through the August Break Project, in fact I do have the photos for the last weeks but never got round to the haiku and the posting. It has been a bit of a rocky summer (understatement), one that I would rather move on from into my beloved autumn, and because of this I had to put aside a few creative hats for a while.  

And of course, the longer I've stayed away from blogging, the more intimidating that return post has become for me, an affliction I am sure many of you are also acquainted with. So I choose to begin again, without reproach and should haves, it simply is what it is. I will however share a few of the left over photos with you, just because I like them and wish to put them out there into the world.

In the last days of August I...


managed a few moments of self care...


felt the grass between my toes...


tended to my garden sanctuary...


welcomed the small moments of light...


explored nourishing comfort food...


finally purchased that reading chair...


created a foxy canvas bag, a present to myself...


and finally, travelled to see a kindred spirit.

Monday, 20 August 2012

August Break. 12th-19th.


Day 12.
ethereal beacon.
companion of the sleepless.
jewel of solitude.


Day 13.
excruciating,
the clatter of shattered nerves
bewilder all thought.


Day 14.
two hearts wide open.
fierce understanding connects.
together we heal.


Day 15.
uncertain black lines
appear with difficulty
a strong will persists.


Day 16.
oh to be an aunt!
roaring, delightful spirits
have stolen my heart.


Day 17.
worn threadbare today.
head and heart lay crestfallen.
aloof fog presides.


Day 18.
crumbled into jars,
the heady scent of lavender
remains reachable.


Day 19.
her ruby wings sing
be present in this moment
such beauty surrounds.


Sunday, 12 August 2012

August Break. Days 6 to 11.


Day 6.

proud and with much grace,
pink dancing ballerinas
weave in soft ruffles.


Day 7.

reminders surround.
speak the words out loud.
let them nest inside.


Day 8.

strung sequins reach out
into a day of dull clouds.
my footsteps guide me.


Day 9.

a long time ago
the story housed in my mind
spoke, "you cannot bake."


Day 10.

glance in the mirror.
confident layers of purple.
a stranger stares back.


Day 11.

vision and spirit.
intense woman of colours.
storyweaver soul.


(about Frida Kahlo)


Monday, 6 August 2012

August Break. Days 3, 4 and 5


Day 3.

strong, fierce, passionate.
finder of wondrous items,
turns world upside down.



Day 4.

myself reflected.
bold fortress of rich beauty.
roots spread deep and wide.


Day 5.

just me this early,
savouring spoons full of light.
time to breathe deeply.







Friday, 3 August 2012

August Break. Day 2.


still. unassuming.
an orb of glowing amber
melts away edges.


August Break. Day 1


It is that time of year again and I can't wait to begin! For the month of August I shall be taking a photo or two a day to record the day to day of my summer break. Taking part in this project is a wonderful way of keeping grounded, keeping my senses wide open and making mindfulness a regular practice. Usually I try and pair up my photos with a quotation that I love, however this year I am aiming for a haiku a day to accompany my images. So here it goes:


rich and earthy pods
ignite. create dancing fire.
now I can begin.

Thursday, 26 July 2012

Poetry and more poetry

Two blog posts in one week- spot the person on her summer break! I've literally just finished writing a poem, once again prompted by Inner Excavation, this time my goal being to connect more with my physical body. I chose to explore my shoulders as I they are are pretty good indicators of my state of wellbeing, both physically and mentally. How often do I notice in a stressful moment how constricted my shoulders feel and how often do I sigh as lay against my pillow at night when my shoulders finally drop for the day. And when I give myself  permission to dance, my shoulders literally unlock the rest of me in their movement. By noticing them I notice myself in this moment.


These shoulders

Sometimes...
Raised so high
That they reach my ears,
Whispering feverishly.
Wound tightly,
At snapping point.

Sometimes...
Carrying stories
For myself
And for others.
Grounded.
Strong.

Sometimes...
Crumbling 
Into a defeated
Invisible heap,
When the sky
Has fallen down.

Sometimes...
Cradling the past
Softly.
Steadily.
Ebb and flow
With each deep breath.

Sometimes...
Shimmying
To the beat,
Shaking awake
Rigid bones
Of an introvert.

Sometimes...
At twilight,
Releasing,
Sinking back
Into the creases
Of dreams.


A little something to leave you with; another shared piece of much loved poetry: