(this is the bounty of the sea i found yesterday when i was at the beach, thinking of her)

i heard terrible news today - a woman i barely knew - but whose words i read, blog i read, followed her journeys and japes with a mixture of joy and envy - passed on yesterday...

this is a woman who wrote recently on her blog "My heart is so full of love today, it feels like it's going to explode and little sparkly bits are going to fly over the world as a result."

and love was chosen by all those left behind. remembering her fun, kindness, loving adventuresome nature.

friends reached out to each other over the net, and i am sure, in person, over the phone...

each time she was remembered a bit of love she had chosen to live was polished up - tumbled like the sea glass she loved, honoured...

i need to beleive that she was chosen by love

and is now luxuriating in that love she chose, in a boa, with a martini

finding love in the hard times

the next time something really shitty

or scary

or mean

or just downright yuk

happens to you

can you please close your eyes (or if you are in a meeting and can't be looking like you are completely zoning out then mentally close your eyes)

and imagine you have your arms around yourself and hear a voice (it could be your own voice or your beloved grandmother's voice or even mine - coz i'd say it if i was right there- it would have to have a funny kiwi accent though)saying

"it is alright darling, you are ok, this will be over soon, you are ok .."

it is guaranteed to make you feel better

love in action through pictures

as a homebirther i honour the place that a good midwife has in holding the space for birth to be a sacred and healing event in a woman's life.

i have had the honour of walking the path with two wonderful midwives and have sat with midwives through reviews and conferences, shared laughter and tears as they spoke about their work... being hand in hand with a miracle

recently the local independent midwives' rooms burnt down - it was inexplicable arson

and they lost all their beautiful pregnancy art they had accumulated over the years

so i listened to the murmurings in my heart about how it ached for the women who give up so much to offer their service to the world...because i beleive a loving entry into the world for a baby and a loving and empowering entry into the world of motherhood for women, is one of the most effective ways of healing the planet...

i wanted to offer something to balance the negativity that had been sent their way in the form of losing their treasures (and records and equipment etc etc)

so i painted this woman...

she is going to live with them next week

it feels so wonderful to be able to offer an expression of beauty to these wonderful women who give so much

finding my art heart

(one of my pencil girls)

(Weather Witch - for Elizabeth)

(throwing caution to the wind)

i am not clever when it comes to drawing

i was never one of those children who could recreated something beleivable with a pencil...

but i have always been drawn (pun intended) to drawing....

i drew when i was sick, i drew when i was lonely, i drew when i was bored....

i can remember Mr Ihaka who taught us how to draw in primary school... how to make sense of shapes in a way that helped me see differently.

I remember drawing the flax at the beach and sitting there for an hour while i tried, fairly unsuccessfully, but i remember that sense of absorption, concentration and release.

i have been going to a painting class for about 3 years now. i have learned a lot about form and how to look at line from photos.

But i have never painted anything that made my heart sing... well one thing from my imagination but then the teacher did most of the face so everytime i see it i see that it is her face and not mine and so... my heart just starts humming instead.

Now i have started doing the online Goddess and Poet course with Suzi Blu and ...

i am hooked

there is beauty pouring out of my hands

my girls are giving me commissions - paid for in cuddles but commissions nonetheless

it may not be fine art

but it is fine by me

courage

whale stone

heartstones

tohora

tohora

tohora

today i had a strong urge to walk on the beach (that and the poodle was using her mind powers to beg me)

and when i arrived there i met my friend M.

M has seen more than her fair share of pain. Her eldest and beautiful son died of a brain tumor when he was 7. Life is hard for her in many many ways and yet she is such a radiantly beautiful soul. She has a rich connection to spirit and a voice angels would scrap over. She is a sister in Elizabeth Cunningham and Maeve. She feels the books in a different way than me but can connect in that deep river way too with the energy of Maeve.

i hadn't expected to see her there and thought "ahh so that is why i needed to come"

M had tears in her eyes and our hug was long and deep. And she told me there was a dead whale on the beach. That the Department of Conservation had placed a sign near it saying they were coming to bury it - Maori were coming to do karakia (blessings and prayers)

and then i knew that is why i had come.

And seeing M and her connection to death and spirit, her courage and wisdom, her song and her sadness and then hearing about the whale felt so connected.

I walked with the poodle onto the beach and the whale was very near.

A young sperm whale - it's skin all rubbed off in the wild surf. Anchored to the shore. Being reclaimed, cell by cell by the sea.

and i wondered what to do. How to approach what felt like a sacred site. and this is wherer courage comes in.

Ever since i was a child i have had strong urges to complete actions that seem unrealistic but powerful. I learned to deny the voices in my head as not sensible and untrue. Denying my feelings of connection to trees and stones and the sea as silly and childish and imaginary.

But since i met Maeve, and surrounded by people like M (and that is no consequence that their names start with the same letter) and have lived my creative urges more and more each day, i have found the courage to listen, once again to those urges and voices.

and so i stopped. i grounded myself. Felt the sky and the earth connect through me.

Then i approach Tohora (whale) and as i watched it's form being gently swayed and shifted i felt a song in me.

And i found my courage to sing.

i sang a song of release and acknowledgement and honour. I offered Tohora a path back to family and honoured it's becoming part of the all that is.

Part of me sat critically watching muttering about how ridiculous i looked and who did i think i was...

but i still sang 'til it felt done.

and then i walked on.

and as i usually do i collected rubbish.

but this time, all along my path were heart shaped rocks.

they felt like an appropriate offering to the spirit of the whale. With my courage fully up (and the beach to myself and the waves making huge heaving sounds) I sang to the songs, about their task and my blessings. I collected as many as i could carry and turned back toward the whale. I still heard the voice telling me what a wanker i was for doing this - but i did it anyway.

And as i turned i saw a stone with the shape of a whales' head. And it felt like a gift to me - showing me that what i had done was seen and appreciated.

As i placed the stones on the sign (kinda hoping the DOC workers would notice and take them with the whale) i thought Maeve might have done what i just did. Honour, sing, listen.

and i see the more courage i show, the more i listen to what others do not hear, the more i will be blessed.

i would like to offer this, dead whale and all, to Elizabeth Cunningham for all she has bought into my life.

not only human ( may be triggers)

(another one of our sheep, Misty with two healthy twins, minutes old)


today i saw love in action but not in the human world



our sheep, Jerry Collins, gave birth to a boy lamb, but she still looked like she was in labour - we thought she may have retained some placenta so let her rest quietly overnight with her lamb in the hope that his drinking would stimulate her uterus.



this morning she looked worse and still contracting

the vet came and after a very difficult manouevre he removed another lamb which was stillborn

poor Jerry

she was in shock, lying there frightened and sore... and still she sort out her boy.

she tried to stand to protect him.

even after all she had been through, her mind was open to her lovely little boy.

i am sure zoologist would argue anthropomorphism

but i felt the love there - Jerry chose love over fear

and that is the bravest thing anyone can do

RIP Stu-too