Once in a Blue Moon

once-in-a-blue-moon I was looking at this image and wondering about a title when my husband wandered in, looked at the digital art and said: “What are you going to call this? Once in a Blue Moon?”

And I thought: “Spot on, mate!”.

Because I created this piece of digital art from a photo I had of a waterfall at Durness in far north Scotland and, as far as I’m concerned, I would only visit this village again once in a blue moon.

Why? Well, my then boyfriend and I toured Scotland prior to travelling to Australia for a working holiday in 1972 (and I stayed 40+ years!), and as we heading from east to west across the top of Scotland, we decided we’d stop off at Durness.  Except it was so small (got no idea if it’s grown since then) that we almost missed the small sign pointing to what was then a tiny settlement.

We hopped out of our car, freezing in the bitterly cold wind whizzing around our heads, and rushed into the pub we’d tracked down looking for a meal and a warm-up. Well, the meal wasn’t bad, standard pub fare of the time, but all the windows were wide open, the place was absolutely freezing, and all the locals were standing around in heavy-duty sweaters (not even coats, they were impervious to the cold) not taking a bit of notice of the cold wind whistling around the interior of the pub.

We stuffed the food down our throats and were out of that pub like greased lightning and hared off down the road with the car heating turned to the highest possible. There are two times I’ve felt as cold as this since: in early 1978 when we went to China and went out onto an oil field where the temperatures were -27C; and in 2002-3 when we lived in Rosehearty on the north-east coast of Scotland up from Aberdeen and near Fraserburgh, where a bitterly old wind from the Arctic seemed to blow incessantly. When the locals started sunbaking in shorts and singlets at 16C, we looked at each other (we’d moved from sub-tropical Queensland, Australia), said: “We’re outta here” and moved down to the north of England to live!

As it happens, I can see the Old Fae of the falls looking out, protecting the landscape and pouring her energy into revitalising the earth, and I honour her. But no, like I said, I’ll go back to Durness once in a blue moon!

Playing with Prisma

Here are four more images created with a Prisma overlay.  I can’t remember how I created the original image, but to me the first two pieces of digital art relate to the way women are rising up against misogyny and patriarchy, whether in the US, Europe, Middle East, Russia and so on.

The last two, however, remind me of sci-fi stuff: the opening bars of Doctor Who and its otherworldly music and images, plus a wormhole to alternative realities!

Phoenix Rising
Wormhole to Alternative Realities
Doctor Who!


Feel the Fire!

I’ve been having fun with my new tablet, creating images and then adding overlays by Prisma which offer images and patterns from various artists and art forms. It’s amazing how the energies of an image change with the different colours, so here are a set which relate to fiery images.

A New Order Arising from the Old
Flames of the Heart
Phoenix Rising
Tripping the Light Fantastic
Women on Fire
Right Communication
Right Communication

Crow Magic

A while back I took a photo of five crows sitting on a tree, motionless, against the evening sky.  It was quite eerie, they looked very focused, a bit like ghosts atop the bare branches of the trees.

Anyway, I returned to it yesterday and created some new images using Pixlr overlays and frames.  Hope you like them, I’ve personally very pleased at the way they’ve turned out.

crow-magic-1 crow-magic-2 crow-magic-3 crow-magic-4 crow-magic




This is the original photo with the Besparmak Mountains in the background.

The Life of Stones: Focus

focusThis my latest crystal mandala layout – for Focus.  I moved the table away from its previous position beside my crystal collection as I felt the grouped crystals interfered with the energy of the crystal mandala and its intent of focus. It feels heaps better in its new position under my spider drum and Shamanic Power painting (see photo below).

Later I’m going to try my hand at talking about the crystals I’ve worked with using my new tablet, so won’t go into details of this today.

I get a poem and photo in my inbox every day from Panhala, a Yahoo group, which started up when I lived in the UK in 2003. These posts really light my day, a wonderful selection of poetry, so I’m going to reprint one here relevant to my love of crystals, rocks and stones:


Go inside a stone
That would be my way.
Let somebody else become a dove
Or gnash with a tiger’s tooth.
I am happy to be a stone.

From the outside the stone is a riddle:
No one knows how to answer it.
Yet within, it must be cool and quiet
Even though a cow steps on it full weight,
Even though a child throws it in a river;
The stone sinks, slow, unperturbed
To the river bottom
Where the fishes come to knock on it
And listen.

 I have seen sparks fly out
When two stones are rubbed,
So perhaps it is not dark inside after all;
Perhaps there is a moon shining
From somewhere, as though behind a hill—
Just enough light to make out
The strange writings, the star-charts
On the inner walls.


~ Charles Simic ~

(The Voice at 3 A.M.)



All Change!

I got a bit fed up with my workroom as it felt cluttered, dark and stagnant. So I bought three coloured stands (including, of course, on in purple!), booted out a couple of boring stands, and brightened up the place.

I also moved my crystal mandala table from its previous position close to my shelves full of crystals to its own space under my drum and Woman of Power artwork. I felt when the table was close to the crystal collection that the stones on the shelves interfered with the focus of the crystal mandalas I create on the glass table, and it actually feels are lighter and more focused in its  new position.

My whole workspace feels much brighter and more energised.

studio-space-1 studio-space-2 studio-space-3 studio-space

A Horse With No Name


I created this image from a photo I took of a horse at dawn. We had moved from Victoria, Australia, to New South Wales and were staying with a friend. I wandered out around 5.30 one morning to see the horse standing in the early morning mist, hazy and eerie looking, so quickly took a photo to capture the image.

This digital art reminds me of being in a state of suspension, waiting for inspiration to strike, outlasting the emotional pressure of waiting for creativity to pop up its head, and representing the mystery of creative inspiration when it does arrive after crossing a desert of waiting, hoping and fearing.

I looked at the final image and immediately though of America’s “A Horse with No Name”. What else?