You’ll Never Walk Alone


I created this image from a photo of steps leading up from the crypt where the body of St Barnabas was found in 477 AD. The crypt is now a small mausoleum close to the St Barnabas Monastery and Icon Museum, not far from the ancient site of Salamis in North Cyprus. The history of St Barnabas and the associated buildings can be found at this link:

Information on St Barnabas, nr Salamis, North Cyprus.

Personally I prefer the mausoleum as it is very peaceful, very simple and very elegant. I found the monastery to be a bit kitschy as I’m really not into icons, but that’s my personal reaction.

I actually fiddled with the photo of the steps a couple of days ago but didn’t feel satisfied with the resultant image. This morning I woke up feeling a whole heap better than I have this past fortnight since our dog, Ziggy, died unexpectedly, and got an image of water in my mind. So I created a canvas on PicMonkey, shaded it green, and added on an image of water from the “textures” section, as well as an image from the “edifice” section, also available under “Textures”. Then I had the idea of super-imposing the image I’d created of the steps at the St Barnabas Mausoleum and voila! the above image which evokes the long history of this crypt.

It reminded me of how you slog on in difficult times, summoning the courage – however exhausted you feel – to put one foot in front of the other. As this image portrays, as you start raising yourself from the depths, ahead you can see light and know that you are never truly alone – others are there supporting you, cheering you on, sometimes in the visible world, sometimes in the unseen world. And that reminded me of the song “You’ll Never Walk Alone” by Gerry and the Pacemakers.

Summer Solstice Greetings

Summer Solstice 2015

May the Summer Solstice

bring you:

Bright blessings

The Warmth of the sun to lighten your life

The Blessed Breeze to lift your cares from your shoulders

and heart

The love of hearts opening to sprinkle your life

with glitter, sparkles and rainbows

The vision to open new horizons,

fresh adventures and

Joyous dancing on the Yellow Brick Road

Wherever it takes your heart and soul.


Flying high

This is to honour the nine people who lost their lives in the shootings at at the Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina.

We all have a choice:

* to stand up and be counted against racist hate;

* to voice our opposition to racist hate;

* to have the guts to take action against racist hate.

* No sitting on the sidelines.

* No more leaving it to others to take action.

* No more tolerating open racism wherever it shows its ugly face.

* Each one of us has the responsibility to give racism an indecent burial.–1

Light at the End of the Tunnel

Light at the End of the Tunnel

I created this image from a photo of a cave with water in the Gardens of Stone, a beautiful nature wonderland in the hinterland of Sydney, New South Wales, Australia, which is a National Park.

This wonderful area is under threat from coal mining (yet again in Australia!) so if you feel so included, please check out the Gardens of Stone page on Facebook and lend your support to protect this wonderful area:



Mercury Retrograde

Zion BridgeI wasn’t sure what to call this until I realised that all the chaos in communication we experienced in trying to look after our little dog, Ziggy, when he was ill was influenced by Mercury Retrograde, a feature of astrology, which wound up yesterday, Friday 12th.

Mercury Retrograde happens when it looks, from the perspective of Earth in relation to Mercury, as if the planet were moving backwards. Of course that’s not happening but when this galactic event does take place, it’s renowned for stuffing up communications, affecting computers (make sure your computer is backed up before a MR event), causing electronic problems and so on.

We got information too late, phone calls were missed, blood tests came up clear but tested positive later on, and I was feeling so guilty that we had failed our little dog in getting him the proper treatment in time. But when I realised all this happened during a Mercury Retrograde, all fell into place.  It doesn’t ease the grief of losing our dog, but it does explain some of the happenings over the past fortnight.

“He Lives His Life”

Letting Go
Letting Go

When we lived in Australia we watched a programme by Kevin McLeod, a guy who usually fronts a series about the challenges facing home builders. On this occasion, Mr Mcleod spent time in India among the very poorest of the poor in Mumbai’s Dharavi slum. 

The 2-part series indeed showed poverty, hardship and really horrible working and living conditions, but on the other hand it showed the community supporting each other, the close family ties and the sense of pride in their lives, however difficult they were. In one scene, the presenter was appalled at the working conditions of one of the workers and its long-term effect on his health.

The translator simply shrugged and said: “He lives his life.”

We, in the West, are obsessed with long lives instead of lives lived well, however long or short they are. And so I come to the point where I am sad to say that our beloved Ziggy lived his very short life to the max.  Our little dog climbed off the sofa on Monday, laid down with his head on my husband’s feet, and quietly slipped from this life. His death is a mystery as all his vital signs were fine  – he did have ehrlichia, a tick-born disease, but still in a treatable condition.

So we are faced with the fact that Ziggy lived his short life well and with passion. He was like a comet zooming across the sky like a bright light – he was happy, merry, mischievous, raucous, lively, a trickster and a larrikin.  We miss him immensely but we know he is over the Rainbow Bridge and is safe.

How do we know?

Well, after he died, I asked for him to let us know he was okay, if he could.  It was more a way of coping with his sudden death at only 2.5 years old, than really expecting anything in response. I slept badly on Monday night so after lunch on Tuesday I went to have a sleep. I was woken by a dog scratching loudly and, when I got up,  asked my husband which of our three remaining dogs had been scratching while I was asleep.  He said none of them, they’d been sitting quietly with him.

And then I realised – Ziggy used to sleep on the bottom of the bed and often scratched as he was allergic to fleas. It used to drive us nuts as it would wake us up.  Ziggy had found the one way to let me know that all was well with him – scratching loudly enough to wake me and realise – eventually – that he’d sent a clear sign he is alive and kicking and dancing merrily in the meadows of Never-Neverland over the Rainbow Bridge.

R.I.P. Ziggy – a wonderful dog with so much love to give us when was alive, and so much love to ensure we know he is okay, even if he is not here physically any more in our lives.

Ziggy - Tribute