Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Late-Night Muse

Just a little something to awaken the muse.  I always say the best ideas happen late.  :)

Monday, December 7, 2015

The Dream Theater

“Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” 
― Oscar Wilde
The Critic as Artist

And it all began with a book...
My favorite time to read is before bed.

Created for the Books/Reading challenge at Sunday Postcard Art.

Resources Used:

magical book: 

other stock was nonrestricted and/or purchased

Sunday, December 6, 2015

Searching For Santa

“Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies!” 
― Francis Pharcellus Church

Created for the reindeer themed challenge at Collage Obsession.  That pesky reindeer has gone missing and it seems the children have just found him heading toward the North Pole, Christmas Tree in tow!

Most of the elements came from the ever-talented creators at Mischief Circus.

A Winter Walk

"A beautiful sight
We're happy tonight
Walking in a Winter Wonderland"

Frost has certainly fallen in my magical little wintery, vintage make-believe.  Lovely elements from the Mischief Circus shop.  We haven't had any snow here in Kentucky just yet, so it's good to know I can create my own!

Frost theme inspired by the current challenge at Digital Whisper.

Saturday, December 5, 2015

It's Been A While....

...since I've had an issue with eating.  But consistent thoughts of how much I weigh or how I should look or the politically correct BMI are a roiling boil that consumes the background of my mind most times (especially when I'm anticipating a meal).

I guess an eating problem (or would it be more properly deemed a dieting problem) never really goes away.

Once upon a time I was a grown woman who weighed 88 pounds.  I never want to be that woman again...

Today I love my body for what it does for me.  For the way it serves me, a vessel of sorts to experience the world.  I try to feed it properly, to moderately exercise for the proper health of my heart and lungs.  I have learned to appreciate myself.  To take care of myself.  To accept myself not upon the perception of a highly-flawed media, but for who I am as a unique human being.  Self love is a many-gratifying thing. 

In lieu of the older me (and hopes things never get that dire again), I've resurrected this lovely poem.  I guess a sort of remembrance to the way things have changed.  Truly, for inside an eating disorder sits a sad place.

(written by Eavan Boland)

Flesh is heretic.

My body is a witch.

I am burning it.

Yes I am torching
her curves and paps and wiles.

They scorch in my self denials.
How she meshed my head
in the half-truths
of her fevers

till I renounced
milk and honey
and the taste of lunch.

I vomited
her hungers.

Now the bitch is burning.

I am starved and curveless.

I am skin and bone.

She has learned her lesson.

Thin as a rib
I turn in sleep.

My dreams probe

a claustrophobia
a sensuous enclosure.

How warm it was and wide

once by a warm drum,
once by the song of his breath
and in his sleeping side.

Only a little more, 
only a few more days
sinless, foodless,

I will slip
back into him again
as if I had never been away.

Caged so
I will grow
angular and holy

past pain,
keeping his heart
such company

as will make me forget
in a small space
the fall

into forked dark,
into python needs
heaving to hips and breasts
and lips and heat
and sweat and fat and greed.