The Bliss of Broken Arrows
Not all arrows are destined for their mark
Sometimes the winds change
and so does my mind
Sometimes I gather new information,
my values deepen
and previous goals are no longer congruent
Humans have loss aversion
this means we might keep going in a direction just because we’re already invested in it. The momentum drives us, as does the fear of the death of it
In the past I have committed to following through on completing projects just because I had started them, had deeply invested in them, even when I knew something in me had changed.
I generally like this quality about myself, the power of the follow through. It’s common to fall out of love with what we’re building, especially when dealing with the *lead* of any given alchemy.
Sustaining inspiration takes practice, and I know that follow through can be important in closing loops, learning, growing, and moving forward
And yet….
And yet
there have been processes in my life I wasn’t able to tie a bow around
Broken Arrows
There have been relationship trajectories that transformed rapidly before my eyes, without the gentle tending to transitions and ceremonial completions I yearn for
Broken Arrows
In digesting the impact of the ruptures in my life, I have come to develop immense gratitude for these experiences- specifically when trajectories call for radical adjustments beyond my willingness to initiate
I’m in a season of breaking arrows
Especially when it comes to responding to collective aims I’m unwilling to participate in
There are a lot of ways human kind is behaving from which whose trajectories I fully withdraw my energy
I break all arrows that are based in outdated compasses and incongruent values
I break arrows of belief that keep me looped in striving, grasping, anxious repetition attempting to fill unfathomable voids
I break all arrows fashioned in the shape of cultural trance death wishes
I break all arrows that would utilize my life to animate dreams that are the antitheses to an artful way of being
I break these arrows
and blissfully
throw the wood
to feed the great apocalyptic fires
of compassion
and radiance
📷 @wakingcrow
I am a woman who runs with the wolves
After decades of collapsed boundaries
Swept away in the tides
of consensus cultural trances
The wild beast inside is provoked
Beyond the overly tamed postures of
self-preservation
and conditioned pleasantries
She arrives
A protectress against that
which is not love
The crimson tide rises
The spirit of the wolf awakens
The wrathful friend
Emerges on the charnal grounds
Of broken arrows
And broken mirrors
And broken clocks who’s gears
turn no more
Destroying delusions
Slaying death eaters
Shocking awake fragmented souls
frozen in fear
Saying ‘HEY
Do not stay silent or complicit
in the death of your soul
Find the wisdom of the beast within
To know the friend that lays at your feet
Loyal and devoted to a knowing
That runs deeper than ideological prisons
Trapped in chains of memory
Released in the presence of
This instinctive, fanged
alchemical love’
Primordial mother wolf
Sets me free
howls in solidarity with my belly song
Liberating the unmetabolized grief and rage and horror til it returns
to bright scarlet ruby red
Engrossed in the flames that dissolve
illusory grasping
Into A Passionate
Generous
Life-giving love
Photo @wakingcrow
Image by Waking Crow
my basket is overflowing
full of spells to weave and timelines to animate
full of Venus pearl’s formed in the long dreams within the shell
full of terrible images from this world that I haven’t yet fully processed or prayed about
full of words that take on new meaning as my sage hairs sparkle in the moonlight
full of ideas I caught from the stream,
many of which I’ll be throwing back
full of offerings to make, medicines to take, and gifts to give
full of dry rose petals from ceremonies that linger somewhere in the dusks of my maiden soul
full of dragon tears I’ve gathered for the naiads
full of broken altar pieces I keep to bury at the ancient tree,
where the roots still sing
of underground rivers and seeds of light and cherishing wonder
full of truths that were left unspoken in the heat of moments we don’t get back
full of visions I glimpsed in my shimmering youth
full of rusty meditation practices from decades of study and rebelliousness
sometimes our baskets are so full
beauty and broken things
Make a piece of art
Think to yourself ‘wow making art is so fun. Let’s do it all the time- and get paid!’
Get into a flow state and start making art on a schedule - stay focused, consistent and organized, slowly increasing productivity and stamina. Watch your creativity bloom.
Grow weary after a few weeks/months/years of attempting to fit inside Saturns crucible of ticking clocks, arbitrary deadlines and rules. Hit an identity shell and encounter all your repressed shadows of worthiness, deprivation and collapsed self-expression.
In a fit of inspired madness, burn your calendar and dance wildly around the ritual fire as you release the shackles of internalized capitalism. Howl ferly into the night: ‘You’ll never sink your teeth into my art The Patriarchy!! Get your sadistic algorithmic tendrils up off of me and my holy expression. I banish your greedy agendas from my tools and protect the Divine Mother essence codex of creation that flows through my channel.
My art will nay become a cog in your automated machinery of mass production and zombifying of humanity.
F$*# youuuuuuu!!!!’
Dancing, dancing, dancingWhen you come down from this euphoric rage-trance, re-assess your eclipse-induced mania and enthusiasm for burning shit to the ground: Harvest any insights received, make adjustments to your life as necessary, and gently re-invigorate the appreciation for the structures you were starting to get the hang of- realize you were a little tired and probably needed to take a day off to restore your adrenals.
Keep shedding the internalized attitudes of samsara and continue your practice of time-bending aikido. Like a professional.
Spread the ashes of your calendar sabotage ritual over your creative garden beds, drink some activated water and massage your kidneys slowly 36x while breathing in the color blue
Walk over to the creek and become a river stone - make a piece of restorative art while merged with the consciousness of the rock spirits, covered in the ashes of time.
Take a picture and post it to Facebook announcing your next creativity retreat,
Then watch that money roll in.
“Pour honey on it”
She said
Over hidden broken bones
Over the cracks of my life
Pour honey into the darkened
caverns of my mind where
bitter conversations left us dry
Where sugar craving sent us
Chasing the high
Pour honey on it
On shady spells gone awry
Shadow wounds
fractured friendships
Trauma bonds
that ruptured
Timelines indefinite
Pour honey on it
Slow amber melting
Dripping its sweetness
in holy devotion
Into every incomplete moment
Echoing out for reunion
with the infinite
Pour honey on it
Over the stones
that won’t leave my heart
The Stones I still carry
from our thrashing apart
These Stone walls accumulated
as frozen tears
Pour honey on it
The stones that echo
The silencing fears
Pour honey on it
Stones tumbling in my dreams
Messages from the heart of the gem
Stones Singing back to me as I
Pour honey on it
Over the smoothed stones
Battered endlessly
at the edge of the sea
Where I watch as her thrashing waves
crash over me
Over me
Over me
Pour honey
Over me
Over me
Over me
Pour honey
Over me
Over me
Over me
@lesserspace
Inspired by my conversation with Tiare Valouria
Choreography from ‘Fly Away’ danced with Starling Arrow
When this song popped through I was thrilled- so happy to incorporate my experiences with repetitive devotional dance and song circle play. ‘Fly Away’ is definitely a group piece, one that can be shared at many a magical occasion.
The steps are easy
‘Cast your BONES in the circle’
While standing in place- toss your bones with the right hand towards the center as if you’re thrones the runes from the bones of your past self, to learn all there is from what has come to pass.
‘Step to the left, arms stretched’
- self explanatory- take one step to the left and stretch arms out, palms up, on the word ‘stretch’
‘Towards constellations’
Raise arms upward, palms facing up
gather the heavenly lights of the sun, moon, stars and constellations
‘Rain down with the memories’
- Palms down, slowly draw the light to the center, a cleansing shower of luminosity
‘Weaving the threads’
- Spin your body all the way around 1x towards the left
‘Her prophecy held the shape of the prophecy’
- hold the hands of the people next to you and grape-step vibe to the left.
Enjoy learning this weaving dance with your crew at your sacred circles, song gatherings, blessing ways, rites of passage celebrations, moon circles, and at all the magical fires you tend with community. Excited to dance these steps with you some day in person
Creative Process tips for artists who are compelled to work on alot of different projects simultaneously
Every once in awhile, I need to get a birds eye perspective on my creative garden
Ideally I’m doing this process quarterly, though sometimes It happens when I’m neck deep in the stride of multiple efforts simultaneously- problem solving and project managing several dynamic realms, keeping the balance the best I can when suddenly….
Something goes slightly off course.
Hmmmm
Wtf happened?
It’s usually not one thing that causes this, but an accumulation of multiple subtle conscious or unconscious decisions…..
That’s when I know it’s time to slow down and take perspective.
I make time for a CEO/ Muse Renewal day, and look at each project individually while asking myself things like:
- What’s going well?
- what’s not working optimally?
- what’s feeling tense in my body?
- what about this do I love?
- is there support I need that I can ask for?
- what can be delegated, and what do they need from me to be successful?
- do I have the bandwidth to receive, reciprocate and be in relationship with the support I’m asking for?
- is there something that needs to be communicated?
- does this still inspire me?
- is there a decision that needs to be made? What information do I need to make a good decision?
- what am I motivated by?
- is this still aligned with my long term legacy?
- how have I changed since I started this project?
- do I need to pause, alter my course, or let anything go?
- what else is here for me to consider?
After I’ve done this for each project I ask:
- what are themes and patterns that I’m noticing across all my projects?
- what stories am I telling myself?
- where am I moving from?
- what can I do differently in my role as creative lead to generate more nourishing and inspiring conditions for these projects to grow?
-What’s needed for flow?
- what’s still mine to do and what isn’t?
I’m about to head into Q4, and these are a few of the questions I’ll be going through as I review, refresh, and tune into the multiple-dimensions of my creative mandala.
I hope you find some of these tools helpful for your own creative life gardens.
(Pictured here taking in a birdseye view of crater lake- a reflection of the mirror that is creative process.)
For more seasonal tips on creative process, check out my workshop ‘Spark In The Dark’ below :)
Icarus
you’re too close the sun
feathers coming undone
One by one
meltin from
your wax sculpted wings
Such precarious things
Not meant for
the flight of a dreamer
Like you
better off dying
that trying to prove
Your mind wasn’t lying
And neither was the truth
Falling from your lips
When you said you were
Fire proof
nothing could burn up
A Phoenix
Your candle was everlit
from both ends
You liked it intense
Always the dramatic pretender
You sought out the trouble
You rendered
rebelled then surrendered
Gave in to the
eye of the storm
better off dying
that trying to mourn
Your soul was so tired
The words weren’t yours
Falling from your lips
When you said
There was nothing more
But to burn like
A Phoenix
And I saw you move flames
with your mind
I saw the slight of hand
That kept people blind
Always the mischievous one
A trick up your sleeve
Always the mysterious one
Making his leave
Icarus you’re too close the sun
feathers coming undone
One by one
Dropping to the sea
From your tattered wings
Such precarious things
Not meant for
the flight of a dreamer
(“Glory of Icarus” Artwork by ReyeD33 on Deviant Art
I had a mystical lucid dream 13 years ago of a visitation from a beautiful blissful woman
who was clearly an emanation and ambassador of the Sacred Ecstatic.
Looking into her eyes was an anointment by an elixir of velvet cinnabar,
a hug wrapped in warm satin rose petals,
a welcoming home by the Mother of Love herself.
In the dream, She presented an alchemical Ruby encrusted gold pinecone and placed it into my mind-stream, my heart and womb centers. It contained the names of all of the feminine ambassadors of Divinity, and was a relic through which to merge consciousness with the lineages of the magical feminine.
This was my invitation to fortify a personal connection with the source point of the alchemy of Her.
She.
The Eternal Lady of Love.
From the crown of this golden-Ruby pine cone birthed a Rose Petal Path, the initiatory path that I have endeavored on as a student of creativity and as a devoted vessel in collaboration with The Muse.
I made this image over the weekend to remember this life-altering dream, to bring soft rose quarts healing to my nervous system as a creative ceremony during this time of personal and collective unbinding of karmic knots.
I made this art to help me remember why I have come into the path of service with womb wisdom, feminine initiatory arts and vessel tending. To invite a fountain of blessings infused with the magic of Ruby Moon Rose Delight as it first came into my awareness through this vision.
Some dreams are precious gifts which shape the course of your whole dharmic path.
This dream shaped mine.
some women become millionaires
just being themselves on the internet
radiating their remarkable essence
in frame after frame of
‘i give zero fucks what you think- say my name’
others become ghosts of themselves
reinventing their frames
through filtered rules of a game
where there are pains to be seen
through the screens
through the screams
some women
in some places
are threatened and beaten
if you catch a glimpse of her ankles
other women spend
thousands of dollars
to disappear her wrinkles
some spend thousands of hours
circling the great pearl of delight
hidden between their thighs
others pray to everything holy
she will make it through the night
alive
some women gather with rose kin
raising dragon womb voices to lift the veils
between generations of silenced cries
from the underworld of ancestral graves
while others fear for their safety
struggling to keep from slipping
between the cracks
of history repeating
this isnt over yet
her heart is still bleeding
Photo Goddess Visions
Dress Dancing Dakini Designs