right where i am.

is right here.

hello precious earth.

i will share more about my time in the desert soon. for now the dust settles and drifts into me, and i come to own the experience.

right where i am is:

a winter chest cold, musing and creating a new project, eating handfuls of my new favourite food - dates, drinking endless cups of chamomile tea, reading books in fitful bursts, holding my dog as he curls into the tiniest possible ball {the enth of cuteness}, playing with collages and watching ellen and oprah. i fumble about looking for something, but there isn't anything, just a state of unrest.

i yearn to be more honest, more real, more abundant in my thoughts, more present with my intentions, and more comfortable with BEing instead of DOing.
i also have desires to be more popular and more in control but they are desires not yearnings. there is a difference between them.

i think i might start a gratitude journal again. throw the pile of books beside my bed back onto the bookshelf and be okay that i haven't finished reading them. i realised last night when i look at my bookcase, i feel guilt that i haven't read them all, when there is so much joy to behold in my eyes when i see the endless opportunities there.

i have started a new section in my journal, all about discovering who leonie is.

i thank you for hearing my story, dear reader.
even when i'm not sure where the story begins, where it ends, what the morale of it is, and if it mianders just how i please. my story is still important, just as yours is.


discoveries:

the wooster collective ~ brimming with street art
women imagining themselves into a new world ~ a thrilling collection


"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, "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten"

dance.

ellen

i hope you know in your life
what it is to dance
because your body calls you
to express in movement
your joy, your tribalism, your anger, your energy, your life.



may you dance in the desert
and by the ocean
in your living room
with and without your lover
with and without your dog
with and without your self
in the sun and by starlight
right where you are right now
may you dance into yourself

and find your belonging your breath your beat



i hope you know how to dance by clapping sticks, clapping hands, the haunt of a wooden flute, the gentle humming thud of gaia's heart.

i hope you dance...


{get inspired by the remarkable Winter of the Dance}
{listen to a fave song of mine "i hope you dance"}

desert dancer

the desert was a miracle.

the red sand beneath my feet, patterning my clothes.
the beautiful landscape and HER palpable heart beat.
the new friends.
the big spirit lessons.
the connecting with my lover in incredible new ways.



i left my skin somewhere out there in the desert.
tears spring to my eyes as i write this.
yes, my skin. my old skin.
i dreamt it out of me, i wrote it out of me, i spoke it out of me, i meditated it out of me.
i grieved her a little,
and i celebrated her a lot more.



i danced in the dunes.
i emu danced and i rainbow-serpent danced.
i danced in the rock caves of the world's largest monolith.
i drank in sunsets and sunrises and stargazed every night.
i saw angels and cosmic heartbeats and shooting stars.
i marvelled and i sang and i learned and i heard.



i am restless for the desert dunes,
the true heartlands.
i want you back like a babe misses the womb,
and yet i know i am to grow without you for now,
but within me is the desert. i know the desert in me now.
i know the woman who dances in the desert.



buffalo in the desert,
walking her lessons through.

be blessed,
Leonie

joy flight.

i'm flying out to a sacred heart gathering
in the red ochre heartbeat of the australian desert.

i go into mama earth to be reclaimed as her child,
to discover what i need to.
and... in some way, discover what i need to be.

i'm not sure why i had to write that, i just do.

my friend donn tells me she feels like i'm not going to exist in a week, that i will be a different person when i return. i feel afraid of this, and yet i have no fear, as i know it is inevitable. change and transformation always is.

may the space in the desert be one of ~
peals of laughter falling like curling apple peel to our feet
healing ~
the sloughing away the old bits that just don't fit anymore
and the allowing of light into the shadowed and broken pieces.

it is okay to be broken,
yes,
each piece can be examined,
the heart can be opened wide and seen,
and the light can come rushing in like a dam that has burst and now water returns to the parched valleys.

i go into the desert seeking myself,
seeking the girl with dirt on her face,
the woman with earth on her hips,
the knowing, the knowing, the turquoise knowing.

may you find those miracles that surround you today ~
may you be thrilled to know yourself
may you find the courage to speak your Truth
and may you see those wise spirits who surround you ~
comforting you, speaking through you, living in you.


love,
Leonie

buffalo woman of the desert.

something that's not sitting right...

is that i've just sat at my desk
from the time the sun has just risen into the sky
and passed overhead (not that i can see it though, i'm in a concrete tower)
and it is now falling into the mountains
by the time i go home
it will be night time

i've sat at my desk and can only observe the cycle of mama earth,
not engage with it or be in it or follow my own natural cycles.
my eyes are not strong eyes... they are red rimmed and cowering behind my glasses from the glow of screens.

i've just sat here, staring at my screens, moving bits of text around, without engaging any part of my spirit.
i don't feel like i'm doing my work in the world.

this is no way to live.


i don't feel ready to leap yet...
into a natural cycle life of creation and rest with mama gaia and muse
but right now i sit looking out at the fading light
mourning the loss of a day not fully lived
acknowledging the yearning i feel in me.


the time will come.


blessings,
leonie

Cooking with Leonie

i participated in a photo challenge from nixie pixie today...
the mission being to photograph the next meal you cooked, without the stipulation being one shouldn't go all out to make a fancy meal, just to do the one that happened next.

the meal that happened to me was

"bottom of the vege bin sabzi stew"

ya know when the times... when you're getting to the end of your groceries, and there's vegetables left that would be wasted in the rubbish, but are past their "prime" days and are leaping into limpness instead... tonight happened to be one of those times.

so i made something spectacular with them.

ingredients:
onion
left over button mushrooms
parsnip
two sweet potato
left over frozen winter veges
broccoli and cauliflower
three carrots
peas

pop all veges in a steamer and into microwave for seven minutes.
saute onion with garlic for a couple of minutes,
add mushrooms.



take grinning self portraits with mushrooms.
by the time you've found the camera, and lined up your head and the wok (see top),
the mushrooms should be ready.

add all veges.
flip around for a few minutes whilst humming the tune to bonanza



add the magic ingrediant:



i'm usually into making homemade sauces and spices, but for this one i'll make an exception. holy dinger it's nice.

simmer for five minutes.

take time out to blow kisses to your spectators ~



serve with basmati rice, a big grin and a blessing for the veges that are choosing to nourish you.



give thanks to those you love, and snuggle with them after consumption.




next time on Cooking with Leonie,
maybe I'll show my gourmet tandoori tofu and spinach leaf pizza...


blessed be,
Leonie

goodbye my friend

dave


fellow interplanetary love trooper
i wish you the biggest most beautiful journey onwards
may all your heart calls for bloom into existence

you deserve it.

i have been blessed by witnessing the miracle that is you.

i thank you for allowing me into your heart.
i honour you for your path.
i love you just as you are.

may all beings know the blessing that is vulnerable friendship.

bon voyage,
leonie

Bread & Tulips

pane e tulipani

what a lush and lovely way to spend a rainy saturday afternoon.

some of my favourite parts ~

the look on her face when she played the accordion.

the bread and the note he left her in the mornings.

the anarchist florist man.

running through the nooks and crannies of venice.

the chemistry and delicacy in the first touches of the massage between the hippy blonde friend and the private eye.

the dreadlocks on her son when he was dancing in the crowd at the very end.

how i would keep on popping up the volume when i couldn't understand it... even though it was subtitles and i don't know any italian...

how she kinda looked like janeane garafalo.

i love how it started so normally - on a tour bus, on vacation, getting stuck in the dunnies before missing the bus... from there it fell into magic and serendipity and a whole deep rich new life.

the bright white dream sequences.

the hotel boat.

the tulips as each petal dropped one by one, and he kept them in a bowl, waiting for her to return..

oh! oh! i think the most scrumptious of all was the birthday picnic they had in the grasslands with rivers running through it... all of them there, looking free and joyful and light...

"imagine your life. now go live it."
and eat some pane. smell some tulipani. say ciao.
wear flirty floaty dresses.
and dance like a phoenix rising from the ashes...

me and he.

me and he, photo by my rocking bus buddy james

It was late at night on the open road,

Speeding like a man on the run,

A lifetime spent preparing for the journey;



He is closer now and the search is on,

Reading from a map in the mind,

Yes there's the ragged hill,

And there's the boat on the river.

~ chris de burgh, don't pay the ferryman

at the moment i feel a little bit like the wind has gone from my sails
and i sense that the direction's about to change
and i'm not sure what beautiful oceans i'll be exploring next

but i do know when i look at you
~ i mean really look at you and into you ~
it all seems clear

i sense the ocean lives in you
and mountains too
and in that big heart of yours
you hold me carefully.

i'm not sure where exactly we are going,
i just know we have to go there
and we go there
together.

love,
leonie


have i met you somewhere before?

mamas and papas

my mama and papa flew home yesterday having spent a few days with us,
making fairy bread, going to galley exhibitions, buying dressing gowns and jocks
all the things you do for daughters...

i know my parents are human,
as human as the rest of us,
but i do know my parents love me the very best way they can.

and that's enough. that's more than enough.


thanks for everything ma and pa.
may the road be laden with blessings for you both.

love,
leonie
a.k.a. pork chop

self portrait challenge: pop art

self portrait challenge this week
is pop art.

some days i quite like being irreverent/irrelevant...

welcome to my exhibition opening...

you receive this in your email...



so one lazy loopy lush sunday you drive out of the suburbs
into the sheep fields
across a rickety white bridge
to a village with a gallery.

you pull up by the gallery with the blue roof
and you wonder what new friends you will make today
there are many gathered here
and their faces are warm.

the view outside the gallery looks like this...



i meet you at the door and wrap you up in a squishy smile filled hug



please come in
and help yourselves to the
Towering Mountain of Fairy Bread
{thanks mama and papa for being my fairy bread fairies!}



and perhaps some fabulous pinkmarshmallowandjam Vo-Vo biscuits



fill up an angel cup with some love liquid punch



and peruse the room of rainbow art at your leisure...

you'll begin by reading the gallery's words at the start...

Leonie Allan is a 23 year old artist, writer and photographer.

Through her vibrant acrylic and mixed media artwork, Leonie portrays enchanting women and magical beings, such as fairies and mermaids.

Leonie's work is to document joy and explore the divine in every moment and every human. Every woman is a goddess with her own myth of magnificence, and Leonie's art is a celebration of this.

Leonie's lust for life and her search for the beauty in our day to day life is found within the bright colours and the richness of her canvases. She is able to capture the innocence of the child, their magical places and beings, and portray it through the woman in us all. She allows us to be a goddess for a moment, and to seek out the heavenly beauty that surrounds us all.

i'll introduce you to my daddy...



and my lover and my mamma too...



you'll probably make a comment on how similar my mother and i are,
and we will burst into the same bleeting laughter as if to prove it.

then i will gather you around
to say some words
{because that's what leonie does}

and you will be in this crowd looking at moi ~



and i'll be looking at you like this ~



and i will say this to you...

Sometimes I burst open with the hope I hold for all of us, and the sight of the great beauty that resides in us. We are mountains, valleys, rivers, deserts of human emotion and experience. We are simple, silly, complex, captivating, wondrous beings. Some days we can almost feel the feathered wings growing from our backs. Some days we feel so stuck in our humanness the only place we wish to be is under the doona.

Everyday, we are doing the best we can with what we’ve got.

I wish you a large butterfly net to catch your dreams in.
I wish you fifty small miracles and the sight to see them.
I wish you a well worn and tattered book filled with everything you are grateful for in this life.
I wish you a cup of tea brimming over with love.
I wish you a wide openness to love ~ love for yourself, love for your tribe, love for those tender, fabulous creatures who surround you.
I wish you a picnic. Occasionally it will rain on you, and you will fashion hats out of plastic bags before resorting to hiding out in the public toilets, but it will always be worth it. Adventures always are.
I wish for you deep friendships that split you open in sweet vulnerability, to see all parts of you and love you anyway. They will make you more YOU than you have ever known. There is a great healing when your stories are heard.
I wish you the courage to be yourself.
I wish you the sight to see yourself right where you are, then put your loving glasses on.
I wish you a blue tattoo that wakes you in the morning, singing Joy is an option.
I wish you painting wild and raucous colours in the backyard, the creation of your world as you wish it, a night stand of books that touch you and a lush journey of life.
And of course, I wish you a platter of fairy bread to sustain you.

From the highest part in me, to the highest part in you, I thank you for being here today and everyday.

Let the miracles begin!


when i finish speaking the room feels like one large warm group hug.

when you go to leave,
perhaps you will have made a new connection, a new goddess friend,
fallen deeper into love with yourself, or discovered a deep itch in your fingers to create again...
i hug you again with a large smile and a grateful thank you...


thank you for coming!
thank you for being you!~

deep blessings,
Leonie

p.s. i met the lovely bloggingsista Bec there!
you can read and see her roving reporter lowdown on my soul whispers
{you are DELIGHTFUL bec}

p.p.s. i'll be having an online sale mid-july for the art left over from the exhibition...
please email me if you'd like to be notified when it's all up!~

moment.

we sit at the kitchen table
four of us, me, lover, father, mother,
drinking tea, eating biscuits and hommus
reading the paper
talking about little things

tonight i take my mother to womens circle
yesterday they helped me make fairy bread for my exhibition opening
last night i watched a duets singing competition with my daddy
we've been shopping for caravans and cameras
and playing games with my dog.

all these little things
and if i began to tell you of the big things,
it would be wordless
so for now, just little words of the little things that matter.

i'm listening...

meditation last night.

there is a secret inside of me:

a secret because for now it is more a soft, deep KNOWING than one i can share in words.
it is about how art is so needed in this world.
how it is a divine gift. how it inspires the rest of the world to do what they need to do.
how we are vessels for the goddess, the muse, that stands before us, a goddess that is invisible to everyone else, and she asks you to paint her likeness so that others may know of her.

~

my parents arrive tomorrow for my exhibition opening.
it's so very lovely they are making the trek across the country (literally) to be here to stand in that room with me swimming in the colours of my heart splashed on canvas.
a friend keeps referring to the opening as being an "inner kids party" and asks that next time i also hire a jumping castle.
i am so excited at the possibilities and the reality.
i am proud of what i have done, and my heart swells with joy that i will be sharing this occasion with family and friends.
you know when you've followed your highest spirit?
and the gifts come?
that's right now.

~

"The day will come when, after harnessing space, the winds,
the tides and gravitation, we shall harness for God the
energies of love. And on that day, for the second time in
the history of the world, we shall have discovered fire."
~ Pierre Tielhard de Chardin