sister lane

This bliss,
this silence,
these roses blossoming within you,
they are your birthright.
One can remain ignorant,
but one cannot be anything else than a buddha...
awakened,
enlightened,
that is our very destiny.

Osho

what is good

getting some alpine air with my love


my favourite place


laughing with the father and son scrambling over the rocks together...


blue skirts and bare feet on rock


hearing the quiet.
in the mountains, there is no "noise" ~ there are sounds.
there is a far off hushed roar. we joke that it is a four lane freeway,
but it is the sound of the wind soaring through a particular tree on the rims of the mountains.
other sounds: birds. water. the rustle of a lizard.


huge stashes of art canvasses (half price sale!)


a friend writing my name in the sand...

this face...

ella

and i asked her about when she felt safe,
and her whole face glowed
as she turned
up to the mountains where our lovers stood watching over us.
she told me
that when she was in his arms
she felt safest of all.
she is a woman so deeply in love,
so deeply loved in return.

may we all know the treasure, the blessing and the miracle of this.

all that's needed

feeling stressed out in my studio.

he comes in.

in a french accent he announces

"I have come to work for you"

He sits on my chair, back straight and eager like a small boy.

I hand him a paintbrush, and get him to paint some collage papers for me.

And that's all that's needed.

The weight lifts.

and there was...

me & purple goddess

old friends and new friends
laughter
sharing
ancient rocks
frangelico and vino
indian feasts
delicious bookstores
surprise adventures
miracle morning by the river with a mermaid priestess
divinity and dahl

a good weekend.

i'm always so amazed by this world.

just as you are

me & big sis becky... mirror sisters

I've got some beautiful (internet) friends visiting this weekend ~
I love how this medium has connected me with some of my most delicious friends ~
and that I get to have outrageous, marvellous weekends with them.

In the meantime:
I wish you pure, unadulterated joy.
May you find a caterpillar on your path.


surf joy
~ loving the Dove Evolution mini movie
~ whimsical joy with kelly rae roberts art
~ the phenomenon that is http://www.iiiiiiii.com/ (turn your sound up)
~ amazing women: the century project

sharing

dreaming, mixed media artwork,
collaborative project by me & my big sister


The beautiful Swirly Girl posed the potent question:

How does blogging - whether writing your own, reading others, leaving comments, etc. - feed you?

I began reading blogs a few years ago and fell in love with the instant access to new thoughts, inspirations, movements and creations.

I live in Australia, and up until the last few years was living in a remote rural area, far removed from any "culture" or art or the excitement of inspiration. My access to it was through the slim pickings of musty old art and poetry books at our local library.

The books were many years out of date, and yet they still sparked lights inside of me. Small Chinese lanterns ablaze, drifting in the twilight. I hungered for that and longed for that. I wanted to be that : I wanted to have that : I wanted to create that : I wanted to live life like that.

When I was 20, I moved to a large city with some of Australia's best museums, libraries and galleries. Every weekend I devoured them with my lover, saturating myself in all the newness, the colours, the promise, the ideas.

Finding the land of blogging was a similar kind of feel as that move. Whilst libraries and galleries are incredible lands to explore, they can also lack a certain freshness. Their energy can feel stilted for a few reasons – the creations contained within them are carefully selected and arranged on white walls and numbered bookshelves. The gestation period from the seedling of the artist's first idea, formation and creation; to its editing, publishing or production; then to its eventual sale to gallery or library where it is then displayed in a collection.

When I turned onto blog reading, that same feeling of Chinese lanterns being lit in the twilight breeze was the same. Small cataclysmic sparks of possibilities. The surge of finding artists, writers, photographers, designers and souls all around this globe sharing their work with the world, unencumbered by time, distance, editing, availability. Can you imagine that – at a click, you have access to the very latest beats of inspiration. I felt great surges through me. Collages I have never seen the likes of before. Photographs so whimsically captured. Writing so honest and brave and real. Artwork so vivid and personal. You could see what others were doing, what they were inspired by, what caught their breath. You could find out their process, see what their studio looked like, how it felt to make it. You became witness to the struggle and the soaring flight of being an artist and attempting to encapsulate your highest truth. It felt real and alive, like the first glimpse of a great breathing beast in the forest.

Then, when I joined my first women's circles, I fell in love with the goddess story. The story of each of us ~ our lives and our days, our truth and our pain. I came to see those women who surrounded me as divine and as a teacher to me. In hearing their sharings, my whole inner world changed. I grew strong. I grew to love my own truth. I collected a catalogue of stories in my heart cabinet so I could feel all of life. When life situations arose, I could look into my catalogue and remember the soul who had been there, and the way she traversed through it.

Blogging is like an extension of these women's circles. Everyday I can read the sharings of women all over this globe of ours, travelling their journey as best as they can. We are growing together, as we speak and listen, press each other's buttons, connect, inspire and activate. As the Chinese proverb rolls ~ When sleeping women wake, mountains move.
And when sleeping women share, we awake.

The community extends from beyond our physical landscape to those souls just like us everywhere. We uncover our own tribe and revel in our own uniqueness.

We are changing this world. Step by step, post by post, artwork by artwork, word by word, thought by thought. We are creating our own lives.


~ Share *your* experience of blogging here.

Think the good thoughts

What if today
what you thought about
and felt
became real?

What if your brain waves
sent out messages to the universe
of what to create in your life?

And what if, over the next couple of days,
your ability to manifest was compounded
a million times?

Today,
what do you wish for ~
for yourself
for your loved ones
for your community
for your globe?

Post here and tell me of your greatest dreams...
What world do you wish to create?

Let's raise the light wishing energy together ~~~

Blessings and light,
Leonie

More information on the 8:1:8 Cosmic gateway here.

Tour of ze studio

Thought it was time again for a tour of my studio...
I've since moved rooms to the main bedroom at the front of the house
(so we could use the studio at the back of the house as a bedroom to watch the stars in)...



You enter the studio through "Inspiration Door" ~ whenever an image or words grabs me, I pin it up on this door... it is filled with magazine photos, painted mandalas from womens circles, doodles, photographs and poetry.

I hope when I walk through Inspiration Door I am somehow pervaded with that lifechanging light of creativity, joy and life awareness.



I'm looking forward to buying this house in January so we can get rid of the fuscia pink paint and go something more blue/purple/Leonie...
This is where I sit and look out the window and paint, draw, write and cloud*dream.
I have three desks in my studio ~ they've come in dribs and drabs and I couldn't resist any of them. There is a small pine writing desk (in the right of the above photo) that I have had since I was 12. It holds special memories for me. How many hours have I dreamed upon that table?
The desk on the left was a dining table given to me by a friend when we first moved to Canberra without furniture. Once we found a new table I kept it... it's a beautiful large wooden surface to paint on and move around.



The third table is a white foldaway (above) that I bought when I was selling artwork at markets. It somehow crept into my studio and holds all the paintings I am working on.

The walls are festooned with artwork, letters, clippings, cards, notes to self... all that takes my eye and fancy :)



And here's my "crew"... my support team... my physical manifestation of spirit guides... angels, mermaids and fairies. They sit on my desk and whisper truths to me.

Life is a masterpiece but you must be the one who allows the brush to touch the canvas.
~ Tony Sinclair


You can check out more artist's studios here.

Children lessons

Who am I when the lifestyle has been stripped away?
Who am I
without my lover
without my job
without the net
and the books and
the website and
the name?
Who am I without my community?
Who am I without the doing?
Who am I just with BE*ing?

Children take you right out of that ~
they make no assumptions,
they care not who I am,
but HOW I play.

They are Pleasure Kings and Queens.
While I made overcalculated doodles with chalk on the sidewalk,
a blue eyed buddha child rolled chalk between his fingers, over and over again, grinning wildly at the texture and the feeling.
While I constructed a sandcastle, another explored the sand by pouring it through their hands onto their feet, revelling in the sensation.
I tried it. It felt good.

And even now,
as I write this, I am pulled away by eager children.
We are going to paint in the grass,
and children wait for no writing.

~ journalled a couple of weeks ago

your electric chrysanthemum skin

I want to know who you are.
I want to lick the dusty specks from my car window as we drive along
at a thousand metres a moment.
I want to embrace me
and I want to embrace you.
Light dopples my skin to be dalmationed.
I laugh from my heart
and see my Ribcage being opened,
my love organ being pierced apart.
I am open to the whole wide world in those moments,
and they are every moment.
I want to honour where you are,
with the fresh blood pumping through your veins,
the whole world is crimson with your love.
The herb garden is fragranced with your moss green scent.
You are open to this whole damn world.
The possums in their nests are awake to your beating
and the beautiful inhale of your soul.


~ journalling, last week

the (silly majestic) artist's way

moon dancer, acrylic on canvas

{written in an email to a dear friend}

on monday (my art days at home) i was feeling the hankering for some paint between my fingers...
so i took three large canvasses out into the backyard...
and i threw dollops of paint on them...
then smeared them ecstatically with my hands (omg it felt so good)...
then i threw them onto the grass paint side down so they got grass and smooshy marks all over them...
and i encouraged charlie dog to jump all over them (his feet make the most interesting marks)...
then when they were kinda dry, i got the hose and put it on jet spray and sprayed them down soooo good.. it was great...
then i had this great urge to lie on them and be one with them... so i did that...

it felt really primal and tantric and earthy... i was lying there panting with paint all over me, sticking slightly to my art, wanting to be so close to those artworks so that we could become...
my heart beating on the canvas... the grass sticking to the paint, the sun streaking down, little bees swanning around.

since painting with children, i have realised again the great joy in just getting messy and coloured and living. doing silly, majestic things with it. that's all, and that's everything...


"Paradoxically, we achieve true wholeness only by embracing our fragility and sometimes, our brokenness. Wholeness is a natural radiance of Love, and Love demands that we allow the destruction of our old self for the sake of the new."
~ Jalaja Bonheim
Aphrodite's Daughters

together

my little sister mooky


I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts,
then there is no hurt, but only more love.
~ Mother Teresa

Sometimes we annoy each other...
sometimes we press each other's buttons...
Somtimes I get all know-it-all on your ass
and sometimes you get all 14 year old on me...
Sometimes we fumble and bicker and ignore then laugh about it...
Sometimes I feel like you don't always get me,
but I know you do, because we're the same inside,
and sometimes we don't get it perfect...
but I do know I love you
and that you love me
and that we're growing up
and shedding our relationship as teenagers
so we can grow a new one as spirits...
and that I'm really excited ~ so excited ~
about what we're going to be together...
I deeply love the friendship we are creating together...

love,
Leonie


P.S. I want to always remember roadtripping with you across the dark plains, sharing about love and life and spirit...

you know it's good

when there are photographs of goddesses
spilled around the floor
and you are lying amongst them
crying
spilling tears all over the carpet
because somewhere inside
it all makes sense to you
and seeing these images of goddesses
reminds you of something you can't quite speak about
but you can lie amongst photographs of sisters and womenfolk and remarkable souls
and cry
and know that all is good in this world.

and you cry
because somehow you've found your work in this world for now
you are bearing down and finding and foraging
and you're reading a book about birthing ("Spiritual Midwifery" by Ina May Gaskin)
and it makes you high on energy
and it reminds you that all the world rushes to meet you and greet you
as you push and trust and exhale and hold and let go and create

and your dog will pander over those photographs you've taken
his divine paw print blessing them
and he will lick your face of its salty tears
and make you laugh
and remind you
that all is good in this world.

A thousand (images) in a picture

Something I like to do...


my niece and nephew play house... too cute for words
(but cute enough for photos!)


Take photos in high resolution,
and view them at 100% in Photoshop,
seeing the photo one frame at a time,
in all the hundreds of other images
that make up the large one.

They are like atoms in the universe,
the thousand voices that are needed to tell one story.
A thousand images
all in the one picture.


they remind of hand sculptures...


texture is tasty...


look closely and you can see aunty loney's feet


Off to spring clean my studio on this delicious Sunday afternoon!

Fun Thing To Do

When a friend is feeling down
send them a POWERpoint show.
(With gratitude to Timothy Leary for the quote in the first 3).












Power and love to the people,
Leonie

Cafe La De Da

my little sister. back of the ute. at sunset.
some cafe in the middle of midwest nowhere.
roadtrippin.


To Do:
(Or: I have taken to labelling my To-Do-Lists as "Blessings to Create")


The Free Hugs movement makes me want to hold the world.
(Love that it's getting picked up in mainstream news).

Sign up for NaNoWriMo to change the world with your writing.

Get monthly emails from Susan Chernak McElroy musing on the medicine of animals.

Important questions to ask from the Self Taught Girl.

New ways to travel and experience this world.


It is not a question of whether you "have what it takes," but of whether you take the gifts you have - they are plenteous - and share them with all the world.
~ Neale Donald Walsch
"Tomorrow's God"

a four directions healing circle

i hold out my palms to you
will you join this healing circle with me.

we will plant our feet into the earth
and breathe deeply of the air that dreams of herbs
we will lie in the grass
drenched in the moonlight
watching angel clouds in the sky illuminate and transform.

offer into the circle your love and light
as clear and pure as a sparkling piece
of rose quartz
swirling in your palm

into the circle speak the names of those we wish to send healing, love and light too
the wind whispers around us
holding our wishes safe in it

around the circle, through our palms
we feel the energy rise and swell
like a wash of ocean
come to swill around our ankles
clear our energies
leave salt in our hair

the energy spills around us
and together we raise our palms to the sky

rainbows of light flood from our hands
being sent into a heavenly sky
and spun in the four directions
like the cosmic spider pulling magickal silk from inside her
connecting this world in a web of light
reaching every soul who wishes to feel this energy
every soul we have whispered the names of.

the names i wish to speak into our healing circle:

donna and marie.
mother and daughter, you birthed each other from your wombs and from your souls. you are light bringers, you are earth angels. you journey together between worlds, as you heal and feel pain, loss, transformation, and the potent power of love. god bless you both, i send you so much love and light for this time in your lives, and for all time.
marie, i wish you peace, comfort and healing.
donna, i wish you possums, trees, my phone number and the moon.

will you join me in this circle?
i believe you are already here.
i dreamt of you all out there,
toes in the grass.
my hems waft in the lavendar
as we dance in our healing circle.
speak the words you wish to speak
the souls you wish to send healing light to.

you are invited to be in this circle,
this healing in the four directions.

we are always in sacred space.

love and light,
Leonie

paint strewn adventure into the heart

i'm back.
i'm so blessed.
that's what i want to share.

i have just returned from a week with my sister and brother and niece and nephew, in a small mining town on the other side of the country.



it was so many things, that it is brimming at the sides with stories and imagery.

what to share of the 800+ photos i took of children, playing, art, family, adventures and women?

how do i choose from the insights i learned there, and the blessings i felt?

i had the joy of landing in mackay with my little sister. we found my dad's ute in the carpark that he had left for us, and we set off into the sunset driving west, chasing the light and finding ourselves as sisters again.

we arrived in the evening to find my tribe gathered there: mum, dad, granny, brother, big sis, niece, nephew. we ate and shared, as families do.

the next morning i awoke early, the light seeping over the wooden fence. unable to sleep, i pandered out to where my parents slept in their campervan. i knock on their door softly. "come in joshy, come in alyssa" they called, thinking their early morning visitor was grandchildren, not their 23 year old daughter. i clambered into bed beside them, and not long after we made room for josh and alyssa. campervans make for good early morning giggle sessions.



i am so lucky to have this family of mine.

it was good to be with my womenfolk once more... how blessed i am to be a part of four generations of strong, fabulous women.



and good to be with the skin kin of siblings, meeting each other just as we are.



we wondered about the sunday markets, kissing each other and using the L word plentifully when granny:mum:dad:lilsis left to head back to their home on the coast. one thing about that family of mine ~ the love flows to find us wherever we are at. our response to i love you? "i know." because we do. i do.



i spent my week helping my sister look after ten children. rather a huge experience for me considering i haven't spent time with kids since i was one myself.

favourite times:

painting with josh and alyssa every night. watching them BE in it. learning from them, encouraging them, watching their art unfold without mind - just energy.









(i feel my art has changed from watching them.
i'm not afraid to get my hands drenched in paint now.
i'm not afraid of the presumption of art.
only the joy of discovery, of colours melting together)



being exhausted at the end of each day. so many children. so much life. learning lessons on a whole new scale now. kids don't ask for - they demand balance. they require you to live wholly in the now. be present with them. witness those miracles of discovery. the whole world is unravelling with their why's and their questioning. those little people - they are our teachers, reminding us of our own innocence and the necessity to play. and dang ~ it's not easy. what a soul job it is to be a carer of a child. it presses all of our buttons and asks all we can give and sometimes more. what a potent lesson that was, and is.



i understand now why i was pregnant with possibilities the week before i left. i was about to give birth to that mothering part of myself.



i painted in stolen moments - while the children were sleeping in the afternoon. i painted more than i possibly imagined i would. i was involved in the creations of eleven canvasses. paint stained my hands and feet, and still it lingers there, in the crevices of my nails and toes.



it was art that was organic and real and earthy. art that was so a part of life. it was a necessity. an act of exhaling.




a large canvas in the still of moonlight. my brother and sister and i in delight, as we throw, squirt and spill paint all over it. i scoop my hand into a goopy tub of white and encourage my sister to do the same. she shrivels her nose but relents, finding delight in the texture/the sound of splattering paint/the wrinkled sploshes across the canvas, the waves of whittling through air forever engrained in them. the movement of art, the memory of pleasure.



the joy in their faces.





roadtripping with my big sister back to the coast.
stopping by the side of the flat plains of land, strewn with long grass,
to take photos and jump on delapidated tyres.





meeting my mum:dad:lilsis there to be with each other.

to teach my dad the art of ten pin bowling.



my friend sonya later comforted me with the words:
in ten pin bowling, there is always one REALLY good person and one REALLY bad person.

i was in service that day as that spectrum which perfected the art of six balls into the gully in a row.



walking along the river with my family to say goodbye.

my mum and dad playing instant dressups.



then stepping into that great bird again,
to flight in between worlds,
and back into the arms of my love and our new home,
leaving me to sink into the experience of being outside myself
and inside a new life.
a new way of being, a new way of creating, a new way of knowing.



i am so blessed to have this family of mine.
craziness and love are hereditary.
i am so blessed to have had this experience.

a paint strewn adventure into my heart.
messy, dishevelled, joyful, exhausting and rather marvellous.
don't forget love soaked.

with love and light,
Leonie