Paint, Play, Pray, Dance, Storytelling

Once upon a time, a little girl sat all alone all the red muddy banks of a spring in Georgia.  It was the only place she felt safe!  She could spend hours there.  For she was not alone, the spirit of the trees blew stories through her mind, the spirit of the springs danced and leap all around her.  The little people of the woods brought her flowers, braided her hair, and whispered secrets in her ears.   This little girl grew up to be a woman and she never forgot the little people!  The Little People are sad that humans no longer believe in them for the little people have many gifts, secrets, wisdom to help us navigate the times we are living!  One of the ways we can access their wisdom is to return to the wisdom of our inner child!


by John Anster Fitzgerald (c. 1875)

What if you returned to the wild, free inner child who picked up their paint brush and allowed the otherworld to splatter visions and memories upon the canvas.  This is what I know:  There is a spirit that follows you and would like for you to dance, sing, paint, write, tell its story!   Embody your imagination and give voice to the elementals, the angels, the ancestors, the little people!  They have been waiting for long long time!   The otherworld needs us as much as we need them!  This is what I  know!




Primitive HeArt

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“Each life is formed by its unique image, an image that is the essence of that life and calls it to a destiny. As the force of fate, this image acts as a personal daimon, an accompanying guide who remembers your calling.

The daimon motivates. It protects. It invents and persists with stubborn fidelity. It resists compromising reasonableness and often forces deviance and oddity upon its keeper, especially when neglected or opposed. It offers comfort and can pull you into its shell, but it cannot abide innocence. It can make the body ill. It is out of step with time, finding all sorts of faults, gaps, and knots in the flow of life – and it prefers them. It has affinities with myth, since it is itself a mythical being and thinks in mythical patterns.

It has much to do with feelings of uniqueness, of grandeur and with the restlessness of the heart, its impatience, its dissatisfaction, its yearning. It needs its share of beauty. It wants to be seen, witnessed, accorded recognition, particularly by the person who is its caretaker. Metaphoric images are its first unlearned language, which provides the poetic basis of mind, making possible communication between all people and all things by means of metaphors.” – by James Hillman