delicious things

magical glitter shoes that make me tap my toes together and wish for miracles...


breathe for a beautiful friend...


charlie's face has me gigglesnorting for hours..


for a beautiful friend, celebrating the life of one of her miracle doggies
(we love you hayley)


something intoxicating...


art~play...


go forth and document your delicious things!

you can post your link in the comments...

we can have a whole celebration of delicious things :)

<3 out,
Leonie

Soulful Movies

I'm a big fan of soulful, spirited movies. Actually, that's all I really try to watch anymore. I'm a delicate petal and am easily affected by movies with suspense, terror, gore or action. (That includes Harry Potter - I'm not kidding). For me, it feels almost excruciating to watch a kid being snuck up on, a sword fight or harsh words. I think: I wouldn't want to see this in my real life, so why on earth would I subject my spirit to it by watching a movie of it. I have a difficult time knowing what is "real" and what is "imaginary" because they both FEEL the same.

For most of my life thus far, I tried to like whatever was thrown at me from the cinema screen. I tried to be okay with it. But for me, it wasn't a joyful experience. It was too much, and it would affect me for days afterwards.

I am affected in the same way by novels, so I rarely read them. I remember reading a novel about a schizophrenic man constructing his own world of reality when I was living in Malaysia for a few months. At the end of the book, you find out all you thought was real was actually the imaginary part of the book. I felt truly screwed up for three days afterwards.

I am now at a point in my life where I embrace my tenderness, and choose movies and books that nourish it.

As Jewel would say ~
"I'm sensitive
and I'd like to stay that way."

When I do watch a beautiful movie, my heart feels lightened and I feel blessed that I have been able to see into a new world. There is so much good stuff out there ~ and I'd like to give voice to it, and share resources of how to love our divine spirits as best we can.

I would love to share my list of movies that have nourished my spirit,
and hear your list too, so I know which ones to look out for :)




Baraka


Conversations with God


Ten Canoes


Dreamkeeper


Disney's "The Kid"


The Blue Butterfly


Small Miracles


Amelie

And of course ~


The Secret (now renamed "The Common Sense")


What the Bleep do we Know?!


Movies still to see ~

The Celestine Prophecy

Peaceful Warrior

Do share what movies inspired you, nourished you, made your belly smile...
I'll add them to this list :)

May your spirit always be blessed ~
Leonie

frippery of the pancake variety

itzdahomeboyz&grrlz (or... making obscure gestures with our hands is fun!)

Intermittently I like to gather together my friends from here and there in my life ~ workmates, playmates, bus friends, circle sisters ~ integrating all the aspects of my life ~ the sacred, silly, serendipitous and saucy (as my workmates tend to be).

Today is one of those days.

We go for pancakes. (again)

Not all of them know each other, so i bring paper nameplates, and we write our names on them to call each other. Porn star names that is.

And I do believe I have one of the best porn star names possible (following the Name of First Pet, Name of First Street Lived In convention):

Pussy Station.

We order our usual (Lunch Spanakopita and Hot Ball), me taking great care to ask in an accent for "Lunch Spanking and Hot Balls." I'm sure nobody in the history of the Pancake Parlour has ever made such hilarious and ingenious innuendo before. I pride myself on such originality like that.


Nick savours his hot balls

Then we tear up small pieces of paper and everyone writes a question on them to put into the Dream Rainbow Beanie, then we all take turns to pull out the questions and everyone answers.

This is the Leonie Way Of Connecting People.

Or should I say, the Pussy Station Way of Connecting People.

The question is asked
"Whose Your Daddy?"

(Okay, okay, it was my question).

We all go around saying "My Dad's name is Bob and he's a train driver!" (like we are in Year 2)

We get to me and I say "Well, I'm actually named after my Dad!"

Ben (or should I say Rainbow Lagoon) quips "Your Dad's name is PUSSY?!?!?"

(Ben also happens to create the funniest comics possible... his latest creation of "You Stink and I Don't Volume 9" has me laughing into the wee hours. Good good GOOD fun!)

Another question is asked:

"What superpower do you have?"

It becomes a discussion on Heroes (which I have no idea about, too gory for this delicate petal).

Nimpho Nads decides she wants the superpower of the Heroes dude who can talk to ATMs.

Deciding electronic power could be useful, I think I may just want to have the Superpower of being able to charge my Ipod. (What is with that? Always out of power!)

We decide to have a homegirrl&boyz portrait taken afterwards, balancing it on a high chair. A cutey patootie Swede walks by and offers to take it for us. In exchange, I proclaim him my New Best Friend, and have a Arm-Stretched-Out-Classy-Self-Portrait with him. Only later do I realise he could be my brother. Where are you, oh Swede brothafromanothermotha?

After all that, I really could have gone for a leisurely horse ride on the carousel as per my usual habit. They were having a rest and a bath though.

Maybe next time...

May silliness rupture you clean open and sparkling,

Love,

Pussy.

tale of a dream beanie

There has been some beautiful instances of synchronicity, manifestation and The Secret in action (or as my gorgeous co-worker Katie calls it "The Common Sense") in my life lately.

A few days ago I felt really teary over watching "Choir of Hard Knocks" ~ a choir gathered together of homeless and disadvantaged people. I felt so emotional over the challenges they faced, and decided that the next time I saw a Salvation Army guy, to give a donation.

Yesterday, I did, giving him an amount I haven't given a charity before.

Moments later, I walked back into work and found a long forgotten cheque that hadn't been banked ~ for a few dollars more than I had just donated.

Give... and you receive. Funny that!

And then...

I've been dreaming of a beanie.

Not just any beanie ~ but a rainbow striped one, with ear flaps.

It is May and here in the alps we are descending into Persephone's den of Winter. Dream beanie has been on my heart~horizon for months, but I still hadn't sighted it, and my ears were starting to get cold.

On the weekend, my love and I went to wander around the Old Bus Depot Markets to eat churros, sample olives (he) and fudge (me) and feast our eyes on all the arts and crafts there. That day happened to be Wool Crafts day ~ a sure sign, I thought, to find my Dream Beanie. Alas, no luck. The closest I came was to a brown ear flapper. My faith wavered, and I thought for a moment about buying it instead as the Universe OBVIOUSLY hadn't heard my request. I kept thinking "uh HELLO, universe, WHERE'S MY DREAM BEANIE?!?!!"

I wonder how many times I've caved before, to buy the not~my~dream~but~close~beanie in my life. I left the markets, faith intact and beanie~less.

A couple of days later I meet two goddesses for magical corn cakes and passionate smoothies for breakfast. As we walk down the street afterwards, arm in arm, my sweet friend gives me a small parcel wrapped in orange tissue paper and string. I feel like Daryl Hannah in Splash - when Tom Hanks gives her a present, she fawns over the box, and tells him she will love that box forever. I felt the same way about that parcel. I didn't want to open it ~ I just wanted to love it forever, rubbing my hands over the rough paper the colour of autumn leaves, feasting my eyes on the beauty of cream string.

But I open it, and inside is Dream Beanie. She had been waiting for me all along, and was just waiting for the angel to deliver it to me properly.

All I needed was the faith for it to be delivered,

and Me and Dream Rainbow Beanie found each other.

This Universe is too cool, baby.

Rainbow OUT,
Leonie

dear leonie

dear leonie,

i am writing you this so you may remember.

i want you to know what it was like to go to your first shamanic drumming circle.

it was raining, a dark may night.

we turn up early ~ an hour early, i'd gotten the time wrong,
so we strolled up and down the street, us and chris and his mum,
talking of this and that, sticking our heads into the remaining open shops that smelled of patchouli, plastic tubs of turkey feathers on the shelf.

i want you to remember how we at last entered the circle, smelling strongly of grandfather sage. a man with blue eyes and black boots is the guide.

the circle begins to fill with men and women,
black leggings, eyebrow rings, frog shirts, smiling eyes.
the guide walks around the circle, introducing himself, hugging each of us,
and slowly the circle walks around inside itself,
saying our names, hugging each other hello.
i decide there that it is the best way to meet someone:
to embrace them, to say "lovely to meet you" and to mean it as your heart is pressed against theirs.

then there is talking, and you find yourself thinking:
enough with the talking of doing, let's just do
and you grin at your own impatience,
staring at the monstrous drum in the middle of the circle
meditating out and into your own core
the sage smoke takes you there.



we are smudged with a huge wing of eagle
and inside my cells i know
i am being changed.

the drum begins
and a journey into the heart
it is heady and hot and smoky
and without words.
it feels like every part of my body is being smoked out.

and then we all begin drumming
on that huge deerskin drum
a flute is played around us
and i move back from the circle.

the guide plays a didjeridoo, and i close my eyes,
and he begins to play it over my chest.
my heart begins to beat with the didj music,
the layers of pain strip away
and there flighting, flying, dancing in my centre
is joy
and i begin laughing.

there is my joy core. i had been looking for it, wondering where it lived and how it felt since my dear friend D saw it one magical night as we held a rose quartz crystal ball together. there is my joy core.

i lay on the floor afterwards, soaking in the beating of the drum,
the sage of past lives,
the sacred sounds of a life unravelling
to who i wanted to be.



i write you this so you may know it, hear it, feel it again,
maybe in twenty years.
i don't know where you'll be
but i know it will be fucking magnificent.

i love you older self,
24 year old leonie

six

Six years ago today
Or two thousand one hundred and ninety days ago
I met a beautiful man on a quiet beach
We held hands in the sand
Talked about the ocean and the soul
Kissed under the moonlight
And decided to be together.

This morning I wake him with a kiss
and whisper "happy six years my love"
He whispers back "here's to another sixty... thousand"
And we both laugh because this lifetime isn't the end or the beginning at all.


the first night, charcoal, 2002

Portrait Party

Portrait of Sone

Me and my sweet friend Sone decided that our creative task last week was to have a long~distance Portrait Party.

I'm now a portrait party fan, with my sketchbook accompanying me to pizza parties and mother's day morning teas.

There was something really beautiful about doing a portrait of one of my dearest friends. I wanted to draw her as I see her, my dream~sight of her highest self shining like a priestess in the forest. I quite fell in love with the vision that emerged, just as I quite fell in love with her when I first met her. It was a feeling of "Oh... It is YOU... We are going to be on a long journey together..."

And I dearly love seeing through her eyes, how she sees me. She did this portrait from how I looked the first day she met me ~ the day I married myself. There is something in her creation that is tender, vulnerable, lost but sure that makes me see myself a little differently.


Portrait of me by Sone


The other day I was on a programming course (hilarious, I know),
and the tutor said to me over lunch:
"What are you so happy about?"
and I looked outside, and the sky was turquoise and the autumn leaves were scuttling along the walkway,
and I replied
"Because I'm here, and it's pretty much the best thing ever."

With friends and art and a world like this,
what's not to love?

Bright radiant Thursday blessings
gifted from my hands to yours,
Leonie

cousins

shan & jana


Photos from a portrait session while I was away with two beautiful cousins ~
One I have know for more than a lifetime, the other a new friend.

There is something deep and potent about women who share the same blood, the same eyes, the same high cheekbones and so many sweet childhood memories. And it is a blessing and an honour to document that with Sacred photography.


(do you remember being a kid,
sitting upside down in a chair,
and pissing yourself laughing?)




(these girls have so much butterfly energy around them)








(this just says pure joy to me)

refreshing beauty to start a friday.

*happy sigh*

love and light,
leonie


the cousins, me and the light assistant Tam (in more ways than one)

Hello, dream coming true

When I was 16, one of my favourite places was a beautiful bookstore named The Sanctuary. Quite the perfect name for that Nag Champa scented haven, really. I would curl up in the green director chairs there, letting my fingers wander over the book friends there. Perfectly positioned by the chairs was a panoply (quite literally: a splendid array) of SARK books.

Finding SARK was like finding home. A friend, a teacher, a kindred spirit. Her books were a place to sleep in, to find absolute faith in my own rainbow soul. Susan, over the years since, has become like a lighthouse for me, shining her light to the sea so I could cast my own sails and shine my own beacon light.

Today, a brown box from Amazon arrived. This is an incident which, in itself, creates a great amount of joy, but today was an Extra Special Amazon Delivery Day. I stuffed the box into my bag and bicycled home as fast as these little Amazon legs would take me. Once at home, I setup a picnic in the backyard for me and Charlie, with celebration Aloe juice at the ready.



Welcome home, Fabulous Friendship Festival.

So we read that book together, there in the backyard on a warm May afternoon, witnessing a dream being birthed into the world.

When I was sixteen, could I have ever dreamed that my name would be in a SARK book? That my dog would be a friend of this soul~lighthouse?

Somewhere, sometime, sleeping in the moonbeams, I must have dreamt this awake.

This Universe is one big Miracle unfolding, and I feel greatly blessed.

Dream High, Big and Wide,
Leonie





It reads:
My dog friend Charlie lives in Australia with Leonie and her partner. We've never met in person, but as soon as I saw his photo, I knew we were friends.



Sometimes Charlies and friendships and SARKS make this whole world go round. Make that all the time.

Off to bed now ~
Charlie is in need of some feet to sleep on.

I have played with Paul Simon (and other miracles)

It's true - in a round-a-bout-six-degrees-of-separation kind of way. I am possibly even closer to Paul Simon than I am to my (almost) bestie MacGyver.

Let me explain this miracle, and other miracles.

Yesterday me, my love and my love's mum went out to the Spirit of the Forest Festival on my beautiful friend Gini's property. I wore my turquoise cowgirl hat, a sure sign an adventure will come about. The afternoon was filled with drinking chai, planting trees to honour our Tree grandmothers, watching a horse~whisperer, hanging out by the tipi, listening to talks.



Once the sun dropped behind the mountains, everyone gathered into the round building that once was a cattle feeding shed. The shadows were dreamy against the brick-hewn wall.



And the dance began. Led by Prince Mama Kiama, an Unahi tribe chief from the Phillipines, a group of men dressed in loincloths began to dance. They leapt through the air, beating on drums, running like warriors. Women dressed in long skirts sashayed around the edges with arms like gentle eagles.



I want to tell you how that felt, how my heart beat quickened and breath shortened as they danced. That somehow, seeing that Prince and those mostly white boys in loincloths dancing, made a primal owl in me screech into the night. I want to tell you how I had tears in my eyes and a snake uncoiling in my belly, wanting that initiation for every man, for these ceremonies to be a part of every one's life, for dance and movement and spirit to be the way we celebrate each and every sunset. And mostly, for some inexplicable reason, I want to bring loincloths and long skirts back. They call in me some ancient memory that is deep and instinctual, as though they are how things should be.


my love at night.

The drums kept drumming into that night. The musical instruments came out, and songs were sung. A melting pot of traditions, wisdoms, songs and open hearts. I just kept feeling incredibly blessed to witness it all.



The entirely beautiful Prince Mama.





His Earthmamadrummingloving wife Lisa.



The quietly compelling Craig Six Bears playing a Native American flute.



And then, a man by the name of Trevor Knight joined the stage. And he and Prince Mama sang John Denver songs together, as brothers. Trevor told us that in the 1960's he played the folk circuit in England, and often played shows with an upstart short dude named Paul Simon, who later went back to America to play with his mate Art Garfunkel. Yep, THE Paul Simon, one of my biggest music idols and on my Top 5 to see live list (along with James Taylor and the five member version of Fleetwood Mac).

So last night, in an old cattle feeding shed, I tucked my djembe under my arm, and I drummed along with a Philipino tribal chief and a dude who had played with Paul Simon. I drummed like there was nothing else to do but echo the heartbeat, nothing to do but herald a miracle.

I danced with that drum like a woman possessed by the earth, the music and the moon~drenched air.

All my life I have been waiting to be this woman.



Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West of Proserpine, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads

(Lyrics by John Denver, as sung by Leonie Allan)


"There are two laws we have. To translate them, it means Love and also Peace."
~ Prince Mama Kiama


I will meet you in the dancing circle,
Leonie