I’ve been absent for a while due to back problems and also a feeling of great inertia which I decided to indulge because I felt it was a message to let go and just let the good times roll again when it felt right. I’ve been creating digital art, can’t stop now, but haven’t felt like blogging at all.
I had created the above piece of digital art and couldn’t work out what to call it when I saw a post on a friend’s Facebook timeline which suited this image perfectly – a ray of light and colour in a world which seems in great, grey turmoil at present. Synchronicity!
“Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon. A happiness weapon. A beauty bomb. And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one. It would explode high in the air — explode softly — and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes into the air. Floating down to earth — boxes of Crayolas. And we wouldn’t go cheap, either — not little boxes of eight. Boxes of sixty-four, with the sharpener built right in. With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, amber and umber and all the rest. And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with imagination.” ~Robert Fulghum
I’m indebted to Robert Fulghum for his inspirational comment.
I’ve just found that piZap has released its updated version of its programme so I was playing around with the various gizmos now available and came up with this image from an earlier piece of digital art I created with Toolwiz from a photo of a seashell with a rather lovely pattern.
To me it’s like a kaleidoscopic image of our colour DNA, all neatly laid out around the central focus of our celllular incarnation. Okay, imagination running riot but it’s fun, nonetheless!
In modern day society we’ve lost touch with the astral and cellular connection we have with our ancestors. Yet they are interwoven into our lives through our ancestral heritage, our DNA and the complex legacy of past lives which all influence who we are today. Honouring our ancestors helps us take our place in the kaleidoscope of life, recognising too that future generations will be standing on our shoulders. What we do with our lives will be a heritage for those who come after us.
I’ve been thinking for some time about free speech and political correctness. The latter, it seems to me, is simply a matter of courtesy: you can no longer with impunity make comments that are offensive to women, people with disability, LGBT people, people of colour, people of different religions. You cannot, these days, go around making offensive comments and think it’s okay. It’s not. Hate speech is so often a part of patriarchy and patriarchy is starting to crumble. I won’t say it’s over, because obviously it’s not – witness the last throes and thrashing around in the Trump administration.
Free speech, on the other hand, is a bit tricky. Yes, you have a right to put your views BUT the same applies as it does to political correctness: you do not have the right to be horribly offensive or make comments which incite violence or hatred towards particular groups of people who are not white.
Because when you look at those who are loudest about free speech, all too often they are the ones who say it’s okay to make homophobic comments; to make racist jokes about minority groups; to vilify the religious beliefs of Jewish and Muslim people; to cheer when Donald Trump advocates violence against people who don’t support him; to sneer at people with disabilities; to deny the Holocaust of World War 2 never happened. Why? Because they go beyond the bounds of decency, tolerance and kindness.
And when it comes to the mainstream media, the idea of free speech really is a bit of a joke. You, me and the average person on the street do not have ready access for free speech in the highly influential corporate media (although that hold is abating somewhat with the rise of social media). But magnates like Rupert Murdoch and those in the UK who are super-wealthy and own the like so the Daily Telegraph or Daily Express do have the right to say what they like whether it’s the truth or not. And if they are, on the very rare occasion, found to have overstepped the mark, you’ll find an apology in small print buried towards the back of the publication.
Frankly, I think it’s time to draw a line in the sand when it comes to the so-called free speech of the extreme right, the white nationalists, the self-appointed militia, the KKK, the racists because of the impact it has on sections of society who find themselves faced with discrimination, violence, death threats, arson, bullying, terror and hate. The people who demand free speech for themselves to advocate discrimination are not the ones on the receiving end of the violence their “free speech” invokes. They are not the children who are scared they’ll be pulled out of school and deported. They are not the undocumented migrants who work hard to support themselves and their families with honest toil. They are not Aboriginal, Native American, African-American, Middle Eastern people who face discrimination because they aren’t white. They aren’t non-white people being abused on the streets.
Free speech requires a degree of self-governance – that we are respectful, polite, kind, tolerant and compassionate. And if you can’t abide by those guidelines, then just stay quiet and don’t show yourself up to be a lesser human being.
I remembered two interesting dreams when I woke this morning and created this image to reflect the dreamscapes they invoked.
The first dream was a discussion of weight loss. I piled on 14 lbs when I started blood pressure tablets last summer, but I’ve weaned myself off them now. I have lost 10lbs in the past couple of weeks which has pleased me no end, not because I’m obsessed with dieting, but because I want to get healthier and feel fitter.
In the dream I told the people I was with that I was losing weight by filling out a food diary which helped me monitor what I was eating, planning my meals and noting how I felt the next day after particular foods. The people in the dream were very encouraging, excited and supportive, and urged me to keep following the same path in order to get healthy. Pretty clear dream, eh?
But the next one was beyond amazing. I dreamed I’d been invited to a shamanic art workshop in Queensland. In the dream, my husband came in to wake me up he brought three letters with him: the first told me that my fare would be paid and I was in tears of gratitude at reading that; the second letter offered me clothing and gear for my travel and participation at the conference; and the third one bought immediate action – a body clearing by my friend in Brisbane, BJ Long, which felt absolutely wonderful, left me feeling light and full of spiritual energy. She was helped by other women who were light beings and incredibly spiritual and nurturing.
Then I realised I’d lost my working stick and one of the women, a shamanic practitioner, offered to get me a replacement from her mother’s magickal stock, providing me with a replacement walking stick in the meantime which felt very light, easy to handle and helped me feel freer in my movements and more confident.
I’m still working on all the implications of the second dream (and any suggestions as to meaning would be appreciated) but it left me feeling incredibly loved and nurtured by the universe and by my friends.