Tagged: #RadiantDiversity


(working inspired by the ‘7 Days of Rest and Radiant Diversity 2020‘ global, online, earth healing, experiment)

My intuition alarms are ringing again.

Couldn’t stop wondering about possible connections between the introduction of 5G….and all these fires this morning.

Read a lot of anti-5G material this morning.

“The issue is microwave radiation, which has been steadily intensifying for over two decades courtesy of the wireless revolution. 5G will bring a huge increase in radiation, virtually overnight, everywhere—in cities, suburbs, parks, nature preserves, wildlife refuges, oceans, Greenland, and Antarctica.
Instead of cell towers every few miles, there will be cell towers—small but
powerful—in front of every third to fifth home. Instead of 2,000 satellites orbiting the Earth, there will shortly be 50,000″

50,000 satellites!

This makes no sense to me at all.

“OK stop polluting the world with plastic, but Yay! Let’s fill or own ionosphere with more of our junk, so we get coverage of the whole world , ever last inch of it”

What is this going to do to all Life on Earth?

All this, focused, radiation. This artificial, electromagnectic, frequency?

Who is Elon Musk? What has he done to Tesla?

Talk about a trojan horse.

Australia’s towers were erected only last summer…..

It’s hard not to wonder.

I visualize the beam being reflected back by our collective light, or perhaps I’ll need to start inventing a beam conductor, for houses, to deflect it, to earth it??

Our internet is not great, in fact it’s terrible, but this is too much….and all in the hands of private companies…

I am weeping again.

But this is not the Time, or place.

So many terrible, possible, scenarios in this world.

It only makes the NOW more precious.

So this is Day 7.

The penultimate day of this inspiring 7 Days of Rest.

It is always fascinating to really notice each day passing.
To witness the differences, the diversity of days with all senses.

I think that is why I enjoy ‘journaling’ style projects so much.
(I am looking forward to not having a, self-imposed, daily deadline though!)

So Thank You all 7 Dayers! Especially to all who work to make this happen.

The vibrations of all that has been shared will resonate on with all of us and help sustain us through the coming months.

I stand with you all in our collective dreaming.

See you next year!

Again…what a wonderful way to dive deeper and focus intentions.

My mud art is revolving!

May the wheels of Radiant Life keep turning as we launch ourselves into the new decade.

And we all keep Rolling OMward!


(working inspired by the ‘7 Days of Rest and Radiant Diversity 2020‘ global, online, earth healing, experiment)

Today? Many, many words!

A rant of automatic, now very edited, words.

After listening to Shelley Ostroff’s guided meditation on today’s theme of Envision, I found I was still resonating from a powerful experience I had had yesterday.

(working from notes)

‘In yesterday’s post I used no words.
There was a reason for this.

Something very powerful moved through me yesterday.

Ancient, and justified, RAGE.

I was not expecting it, but it happened.
It was initially triggered by acts of extreme ignorance, and lack of empathy, from within my own family.
I was made a fool of for my belief in meditation and my actions on behalf of our planet.
I was ridiculed and belittled, and not for the first time.
I am normally reduced to feminine, watery, mainly private, tears when this happens, but this time I rose like a volcano.
This resulted in my, all male, family scurrying away to far corners of our house while I put on the hardest, most powerful , psychedelic, trance music, from my past that I could find, on full volume, opened all the windows and commenced stamping and whirling, like a praying dervish possessed, speaking in tongues, praying for this Earth, to this Earth, and muttering, while their tea bubbled and cooked on the stove.
I have not done anything like that for years!!

(“The Nature of Time, which to my mind, is infinitely expandable; but at the same time, it is discreet. The seconds tick at a strange pace. Perceptually, Time can stretch and you can dream a whole adventure in a split second of an eye.” 
random quote from otherwise instrumental (stonking) techno track: An old recording, perhaps J W Dunne talking?)

Afterward I felt exhausted, not just a little surprised, but so cleansed by this FIRE that ripped through my being.
A new kind of peace descended.
All my family were changed too by witnessing this mighty Kali-side to their normally, mildly eccentric, 50 year old, perhaps too amenable at times, mother!

I can be quite alarmed by my own power sometimes and was unable to find the words to express this experience yesterday.

I used quiet time, working with my previous images, as a way to transmute this fire and ‘come down’.
I am pleased to say that it worked.

As I sat in silent meditation, after this explosion, assimilating the experience, OWL came to me.
(Fun seeing Owl represented in today’s Envision meme too! Divine Timing)
We gazed at each other and I asked Owl to ‘Show me.’
 It turned its head nearly all the way round one way. I did the same.
Then it turned its head the other way. I copied it.
Then it twisted its whole head sideways while facing forward. That way they do. I copied it.
Then to the other side. I did the same.
I was receiving the most delicious neck stretches!! Exactly what I needed!!
Then it did something I was not expecting.
 It opened it beak, sticking out its tongue simultaneously, as they do, and hissed at me!
I did the same, recalling my Rage, and hissed back.
I noticed how like the Lion’s Pose yoga facial stretch this was. It felt great!
Then it threw its head back and opened its beak again, as a chick stretching to be fed, or as in gobbling a mouse… I did this too and felt such a great stretch around my throat!
I bowed to OWL and thanked it.

I will use what remains of this ‘fire within’ to express honestly here.

As one of life’s consummate rebels (I never could abide labels and called myself a Pippy, half-punk, half-hippy; Hunks being the male equivalent, this led later to earning the nickname Buddunk…half buddist/half punk!) I find most of the like-minded, spiritual, communities, which focus, in right relationship, on Love, lacking in FIRE at times.
As if we are all afraid of it.

The suggestion that we simply ‘hold all in love’ is a philosophy I am in agreement with, but yesterday taught me something huge.
My, intuitively expressed, Rage shifted the dynamic, with positive effect.
(I had woken up feeling like I had caught his flu and that had gone!)
I am not suggesting here that we all succumb to our inner Rage and take it out into the world!
Awareness is key.
But I do believe that simply writing off anger as an affliction of people who need therapy is not healthy, or honest.
Perhaps this conscious Earth also needs to know that we will fight for her?
I know I felt like a warrioress again, after that simple experience!
I stood taller. I felt more courageous.
This is the power of prayer, these emotions need to be expressed. Made tangible.
I am talking here about RAGE, not ‘Greif’, not ‘Shame’, not feelings of inadequacy and impotence, all born of Love, but the REAL RAGE at the being made to feel that way, RAGE also born of Love of Life.
The kind of RAGE that arises in cases of real, personal, injustice.
When one takes it all to heart.
I wonder sometimes if we dress our anger up as these other more acceptable emotions, in order to appear more compassionate, more peaceful, perhaps more enlightened, but that, in fact, just bogs us down, diminishes our power? Our passion.

As I re-discovered yesterday, quite intuitively, DANCE is a great way to transmute this.
I was stamping and whirling like a tribal shaman, at the same time articulating this love for the Earth and my rage at all those who continue to seem hell-bent on destroying her.
I know that embracing all Radiant Diversity is the idea behind this experiment, but there remain those humans I have real trouble embracing!
I am sometimes furious with them!

Another connected theme arose when I looked out of the window this morning.
In an otherwise unblemished landscape was this, plastic, box.
A tub that had been used to feed the cattle, blown off course.
It really stuck out. White, plastic and ugly.
This is how I view our own house in the landscape.
I call it our ‘box house’.
Sometimes, when I am out walking, I giggle as I think of the bodies inside it, that tiny box, shuffling around inside, glued to their screens, when there is all this magnificence and space outside.
That is also how I feel when I re-enter it. The box house.
This is now how I ‘see’ all our roads, villages, towns and cities too.
Nothing really looks like it fits in the landscape. 
‘Alien’ almost, definitely ‘artificial’.
I look forward to new eras ahead of more sensitive, earth, (and eye), friendly architecture and, perhaps, fewer straight lines, newer, sustainable materials, perhaps a few older ones?
I also found myself smiling when I thought of the small, field mouse, family that perhaps were thinking of moving in under that box, in awe of the opaque shelter it provided….
I will be moving it though, before they move in!

There was a time when I also believed that we were, perhaps, alien;  from the stars.
Back when I tripped to repetitive beats, in trance, under Indian skies, dreaming of our evolution into light forms.
believing that all the lights, electricity and exciting new technology were all just steps on our universal evolution, on our return? journey to the stars.
I trusted so much in that ‘all was in divine and perfect order’ and my love of si-fi and dystopian stories, fueled these Utopian possibilities.
That is until I realised how slowly we were moving in that enlightened direction and contemplated the realities of living in a space station, under pressure, with Bill Gates and the likes of Donald Trump; simultaneously realizing that I was very unlikely to be the kind of person even enabled to escape the planet, that they had trashed, and that I would, most likely, not enjoy that company anyway!
Rather stay on Earth and become a ‘WallE’, recycling all the trash and excrement they rained down on us and building a New World!

Now, at 50, I find myself joining  the ranks, and ranks, of ‘grandmother’s’ of yore, who distrusted the Telephone in the hall, or the Automobile, tutting with disapproval and saying ‘no good will come of this’.
Turns out they were right.
If only we had had, collectively, more respect for all those grandmothers, we might have evolved in a very different way.

Something that does resonate though all this though, is the truth that even this ‘artifice’ IS STILL ALL GAIA.
We are nature and so is all we produce.
Even our phones, washing machines and screens.
All made up of the same minerals and processes, all learned from Nature.
The artificial way in which we alchemise these properties may not help sustain us, but all this definitely makes our lives more comfortable!
‘Constraint’ is a word that wandered through my mind this morning.
I feel we need to hold our ‘artificial’ selves in.
Instead of attempting to control Nature, we now need to spend more Time controlling ourselves?
Be more aware of the cost of all we ‘create’. And spend/use it more wisely.
Clare Dubois, of Treesisters, recently penned a magnificent piece where she comments that she almost found herself bowing to the washing machine recently, when she was thinking along similar lines!
Perhaps a bit more real gratitude for these appliances would even go a long way in this healing!
I love the way that in India, and other more Eastern civilizations, they take the Time to bless their appliances and vehicles.
It is our uncaring, disposable, culture that is most to blame in this grim trajectory.
Less is, most definitely, more.
Beauty in simplicity has long been my motto, (that and ‘Mind the Gap’) and I am sticking to it!

So, I envision a world where more people get in touch with their RAGE and use that powerful energy to positive effect.
It can be channeled into direct, non-violent, action, (something I am a great supporter of), or, as I describe above, simply used to burn through all stagnant, frustrated, negative, emotion.
I envision a world where people are more aware of the real power in expressing gratitude and asking forgiveness of Source, Mother Earth.
Aware of how powerful they really are, both as individuals and together.
And something else that appears to have been missing these last few eons.
That ‘feminine’ connection, which appears to have been written out of our collective history.
Father Sky and the Burning, marvelous, Sun have been so well represented and communed with by our fiery, oil burning, power-orientated race, but this is not in balance. We need also to honour and respect our watery, life giving, loving, nurturing Mother Earth.

As above , so below.

These archetypes of Heaven being in the sky, and all Hell residing below, are wearing a bit thin for me.

All Life appears to me, today, to be the delicious filling in a sandwich, between Father Sky and Mother Earth. Either way up works.

(You could go for an open sandwich, but then it would NOT be the bottom slice you discarded!)

And you cannot have a ‘sandwich’, if it is only filling.

‘Cause then you’d need cutlery, when just bread would do.

And always leave a tiny bit for the birds,

by way of Gratitude.’

Lots and lots of words. Nothing fantastically new in it.

Just articulating the experience.

For some reason I want to add this image with all you 7 Dayers.
While on the subject of Radiant Diversity.
Almost the first image I created after returning to art practice, tee-total, in 2016 after 9 years of fighting acute depression and borderline alcoholism.
It took me days and days.
Titled ‘Beltane:Sexual Revolution’

Sometimes I do not even know what to make of it!
(link to original post, and more details of the process of making this, in caption)


(working inspired by the ‘7 Days of Rest and Radiant Diversity 2020‘ global, online, earth healing, experiment)

Today I dreamed of a world where trees where held in respect, looked at my recent creations ‘stacked’ against the wall and saw a forest goddess looking back at me with her mind full of trees!

So I played around on photoshop to merge the two images!

kat robertson artist

kat robertson artist
…the inspiration….


(working inspired by the ‘7 Days of Rest and Radiant Diversity 2020‘ global, online, earth healing, experiment)

Difficult to settle this morning.
Watered, and talked to, all my houseplants.
Loved watching the birds as I did the dishes.
This is how my mind felt this morning.
Darting about all over the place.
Like the wren I saw first thing today.
So quick and bright.
Is this empathy?
How I watch and, in watching, feel how light, fast and miraculous these tiny birds are?
Recognizing my own mind in their darting movements?
How I feel for the birds in winter and so put out food for them?

Or is it just my selfish delight, the acute pleasure of standing in our, warm, house and watching them through the glass, jumping with life and taking it in turns.
Well….they take it in turns most of the time…..watch that goldfinch!

By the time I got into the artden today I thought I knew what I was going to do.
But then yesterday’s drawing of the Moss Caller began to annoy me…it really had not captured the character I encountered in the mandala the day before.
Moss Caller was a much kinder faced, more Empathic being.
I suddenly saw a way to make the failed digital experiments of yesterday work. I had to give it another go.
(All the while wondering why I was not concentrating on Empathy and listening to Shelley Ostroff’s guided meditation for the day.)
The, carefully measured, little pencil drawing (below) went ok, but I just couldn’t get the photoshop idea to work.
I gave up on that and then made a GIF, illustrating the way these mud paintings dry …. it worked brilliantly, but then I saved it in the wrong format, having already deleted the project.
So that was 2 precious hours wasted.

Time to get in the zone and focus.

I listened to Shelley Ostroff’s Empathy guided meditation.

When asked to envision what Empathy might look like, Empathy looked like me!
I feel a bit embarrassed admitting that, but ‘she’ did!
I suppose that being the very best at ‘standing in another’s shoes’ could mean Empathy can appear like them?

I rested deeply and let the meditation move through me.
Letting go and rooting. It was a deep, nourishing experience.
As I slowly opened my eyes I realised that I did, really, want to continue working with this pencil drawing.
That I really wanted to use the mud with it….. soon I was in that inspired, creative, buzzing, mindful-mindless, zone again.
This is the stuff that heals the world.
I actually believe that and in showing gratitude for this gift of letting go.

What I learned was that one can have ’empathy’ for a medium too. Learning what it likes and does not like. What works and what doesn’t.
It is a very intimate relationship.
Every time I work with soil/water I am feeling into it, always learning something new.

I made a slide show that shows how much the painting changes as it drys. This is all part of the joy I have in working with soil.
It kind of looses all definition and becomes flat, opaque, dusty….. muddy.

But then….when I add the linseed oil ‘sealant’ it all ‘pops’!

The only thing is …. I have little real control over what the finished piece will actually look like…and no way of turning back.

Loving ‘finding’ new effective ways to move the mud around, always thinking ahead to this point in the process.

And as I do so it is impossible not to gain deeper understanding of the moss that inspired this, to feel the sense of this being sacred SOIL I am working with and I feel some satisfaction in seeing the Moss Caller I ‘saw’ better represented, in the end.

Is that a kind of empathy too?

I love it when a project does not end up in the bin.

Anyone empathize?

kat robertson artist


(working inspired by the ‘7 Days of Rest and Radiant Diversity 2020‘ global, online, earth healing, experiment)

It shone.
A bright quartz on the dark, wet, track, on a dark, wet, day.
I picked it up and it warmed in my palm.
It came with me in my pocket.

I walked into the fast dusk.
I did not know where I was going.
Walking slowly.
Listening to the wind.
Suddenly some trees in the forest creaked, like a whining dog.
I stopped and pricked my ears.
There it was again! So like an animal in pain.
But this forest creaks like this in wind often.
The brittle, sitka, wind-blown ‘saw’ against their neighbours.
It was a steep, difficult, climb in the direction of the noise, so I waited to be be sure.
Perhaps this was to be my encounter!?
I listened for a while to check that it was not a wounded creature.
A crow called.
It was the trees.
The cry came in time with the bitter gusts of wind.
I walked towards the quarry pond.
The wind rattled the corrugated iron on the old barn. It clanked.
This air was so fresh.
Everything was dancing in the wind.
For one minute, from the corner of my eye, I saw the ghost of my old dog.
Rushing ahead of me. White and fast. Following the scent from one side of the track to the other.
I miss him still.
The pond’s surface flashed as gusts of ripples broke its glass.
No herons today.
The goat willow seedlings grow though the stones, like stars, here.
Staying low to the ground, under this big, wild, sky.
I found a nook out of the wind.
A nest, inside a river willow.
On the leeward side of a mossy buff.
I lay down and closed my eyes.
The wind sang all around in different places, in different tones.
In the forest it was wild and deep, with creaks and groans.
From the seaward side it rolled around the buff that sheltered me, in higher, seeking, tones.
But I was hidden. Out of reach.
Cooried in to mosses and rock, shielded by goat willow.
Whose upper branches flicked and tapped against the sky.
It was warm.
All I could smell was humus and moisture and the sea.
I almost fell asleep there.

When I got back I edited the photos.
I made a mandala from one of my moss portraits.

moss mandala

Then I thought I saw her.


This was my encounter!

I call her
Moss Caller.

Moss Caller
pencil sketch


(working inspired by the ‘7 Days of Rest and Radiant Diversity 2020‘ global, online, earth healing, experiment)

I am tired tonight. It has been a long day.

I am blown away by the choice and variety of experiences the 7 Days of Rest org. are offering this year.
I wish I had the Time to listen to them all!
I did find myself doing the harmonies to that old, beloved chant ‘River is flowing’ though.
(I know slightly different words and launched into the ‘sister moon’ verse, which did not happen.)
As a devoted Treesister, I am happy to see Clare Dubois is contributing.
I, almost religiously, join her regular Full Moon calls and know the worth of her guided meditations well. I can highly recommend her work and cause.
Such an awe inspiring woman with language.

But I am glad to find my place, and make the space, to listen Day Two‘s meditation by Shelley Ostroff, who was my guide last year also, and look forward to losing myself, once more, in a bigger picture.
To rest deeply in it and let my mind free.

Day Two, Experience

The sound is the wind howling around our house this dark night and the occasional whirr of my laptop. Nothing else.
The taste is the bitterness of tobacco, tonight’s roast dinner and rich chocolate cake.
The touch is the warm tingling in my hands upon my knees.
The sight is the mesh of lights on the inside of my closed eyelids, ever changing as the candles flicker in the draft.
The smell is awesome. It is the mixed aroma of frankincense and myrrh!
I found these two, tiny bottles in a charity shop and have been enjoying them all Yule. A drop on each candle and the room is full of these powerful fragrances . They smell genuine.
So exotic and laden with mysterious stories and powers.

my tiny bottles of frankincense and myrrh

I begin to imagine all the other types of life forms that share this world with me.
So many, so very many. Too many!
I end up just trying to imagine the other life forms in this room.
The obvious spider or two. The mites. the bacteria on my skin….

Loving to be reminded of Bee.
I do actually experience life in a similar way, but this has never done me much good in human society.
Since childhood I have always put great reliance on my instincts, my gut instincts, but always been ridiculed for this.
Mainly because it carried with it an innate criticism of mainstream ways.
I seemed unable to follow the prescribed path, constantly seeking the next nectar, the next ‘flower’ of inspiration.
I have never understood how my Joy in this caused so many such concern.
And this led to me becoming always the wanderer.
My father used to call me his ‘little butterfly’ as I would never stick at anything.
Perhaps this is, in fact, my gift?

I recognize , not for the first time, my need to be seen.
If not, comfortably, physically, (I have lived remotely for a long time now!), then, at least, to achieve recognition for what I do.
I struggle with what appears to be the superficial vanity of this and the way it makes me, and my ego, vulnerable to criticism.
I feel I do have something, so simple, yet powerful, to say to the world. otherwise why would I put so much Time and Energy into this?
I do not even really know what my message is.
But it goes something like this….
Please try to remain open, playful and curious, as a child. Try to learn to love the ‘not knowing’. It is ok to appear foolish. Just be honest. Strive to be always fully in the present, in the full understanding that we are all, always, supported and never alone. Age is a gift not a burden. Tears release pain and the world needs that water. Grace is directly linked to gratitude.
And all is LOVE.
There are so many wiser teachers than me saying the same thing.
I am driven to persevere with this practice by a power outside of me, but I am aware that I do this also to illustrate that literally anyone can have a go at reinventing themselves.
Even a drop-out , middle-aged, ex-traveller, cleaner/dish-washer, mother of two teenagers, who carries scars borne from a misspent youth and the tortuousness of the path she chose!
My real life situation is the stuff of a gritty novel, not the haven many might suppose.
But my eyes are always open to this weather. This living breathing landscape that surrounds me. It holds me. I am of it. The knowing of this empowers me. It constantly inspires.
And I dream.
My prayer is to inspire others to find the courage to have a go at finding their own, unique, voice, to get in touch with, and follow, their dreams.

If nothing else, it heals me to see myself reflected in this work.
But until received that feels often feels not very far from pure narcissism!

I smile as I recall finding this note, just this morning. Carried for nearly a year in the back of my 2019 diary.
I wrote this as part of a workshop I took part in at the beginning of last year.
We only had crayons.
This is the sentence that appeared when I reversed all that my inner critic had to say on the matter of my being!
I will leave what it had to say up to any readers to work out.

I open a book near me and these are the words I am shown.

‘This is a delicious evening, when the whole body is one sense, and imbibes delight through every pore. I go and come with a strange liberty in Nature, a part of herself. As I walk along the stony shore of the pond in my shirt-sleeves, though it is cool as well as cloudy and windy, and I see nothing special to attract me, all the elements are unusually congenial to me. The bullfrogs trump to usher in the night, and the note of the whip-poor-will is bourne on the rippling wind from over the water. Sympathy with the fluttering alder and poplar leaves almost takes away my breath; yet, like the lake, my serenity is rippled , but not ruffled. These small waves raised by the evening wind are as remote from storm as the smooth reflecting surface. Though it is now dark, the wind still blows and roars in the wood, the waves still dash, and some creatures lull the rest with their notes. The repose is never complete. The wildest animals do not repose, but seek their prey now; the fox, and skunk, and rabbit now roam the fields and woods without fear. They are Nature’s watchmen – links that connect the days of animated life.’

from ‘Solitude’ (Life in the Woods: 1854) by Henry David Thoreau.

Honestly…what could be more perfect than that!
I bow to love of Divine Timing.

I have finished the mud painting I began last night.

kat robertson artist

The illusion of it works best when seen from a bit of a distance.
And as shown here…the colour of the soil pigment is proving very difficult to capture well.

It changes so much in every light and with the proximity of the lens.

I suppose similar to the ‘holographic’ experience Shelley Ostroff refers to!

Looking forward to Day 3 and to what will be revealed.
Perhaps I will find time to go for a walk……whatever the weather!


(working inspired by the ‘7 Days of Rest and Radiant Diversity 2020‘ global, online, earth healing, experiment)

I have been so excited to begin this journey again this year.
It all fits so well with my ongoing practice and experimental nature.

The opening ceremony had me tingling with potential.

Long have I prayed that the whole world would just stop and observe a united moments silence, so I was thrilled to see that it is the same people, who conducted the recent solstice, global minute’s silence, who were opening this sacred dive into being.

As I observed/listened to this I was guided in so many ways.

All the language used in the opening seemed to be speaking directly to me and where I am ‘at’ in this time.
The new ‘mud-love’, mud as a painting medium, I am guided to explore, that satisfies on such a deep level, is primal. The primal language of Life. In a way an act of remembering. In an innocent way, deeply connecting with the ancients, who often used earth pigments to express and make art. Nourishing in it’s physical connection with the Earth, the delight of my ‘inner child’ and the ceremony of intention that goes into the working with it.
The gathering of it, with permission requested and granted. The distillation of the medium. The processing of it into pigment.
The asking only ‘show me’ of the great mystery….asking it to guide my hands, and hear, to find the pictures in the mud.

Unexpectedly, I was clearly instructed that the shame I feel in needing to find ways to make my ‘living-life-as-a-creative-prayer’ practice pay for itself, in this modern world, was not something to feel guilty about.
Affirmation that I am correct in identifying this gift as my part to play in this new epoch and to persevere.

I also ‘heard’ that not always being able to join these zoom calls and events online, when others are doing it, is also not something to stress over.

The Earth has a rather different sense of Time.

I smiled as the recording spoke of each shining our unique colour as, more recently, my experiments with soil painting have led me into a deeper reverence of BROWN.
I showed my new ‘mud art’ to a friend recently and his response was a negative condemning of the ‘brown-ness’ of it, the suggestion that I must use more colour, that it was, in some way, unattractive.
I beg to differ.
Our sleeping, Scottish, winter landscapes are an entire spectrum of beautiful browns.
The colours of tweed, natural dyes and ancient hunting tartans.
The many colours of soil, from which all Life grows.
An interesting colour theory fact is that, when all colours are mixed, it is always BROWN that results.
So is Brown is the colour of wholeness?
As a culture we tend to be so dismissive of ‘brown’.
We concentrate more on the stunning illusion of light that is vibrant eye-catching rainbows of separated colour, sometimes I think we forget brown.
Reminding us of our shit, dirt?
Perhaps, dare I say it, this even feeds into ‘our’, conditioned, understanding of race?
I have another related problem with the word ‘soil’.
How can the word for something so elemental to our existence, be a word that rhymes with ‘toil’?
That ignites images of ‘dirtying’, ‘soiling’, ‘spoiling’?
With so few positive synonyms, rhymes?
As an embryonic, soil painting, artist, on what feels to be the beginning of a long journey with this medium, I can see trouble ahead in catching the imagination of many!
‘Mud’, ‘soil’, ‘brown’ are not the stuff of mainstream advertising!

Yet in Nature, along with green, brown is the predominant hue.

Deep bow to Uqualla.
Excited to be connected visually, (isn’t the internet amazing! I loved his brown eagle feather head-dress! Stunning!).
I stand, as ever in my memory, with all earth tribes on Her. and offer her, and them, only my purest love, my hands and heart, in deepest reverence of their remembered wisdom.

I then went on to listen to Shelley Ostroff’s wonderful meditation for the day.

Day One. Essence

I make my self open and whisper ‘Show me.’
And, as often is with me, I see again the concentric rings, radiating outward from centre.
This is Source to me and has become the basis for much of my art.
Why I make mandalas. Why I paint ensos.
The root of this Rolling OM.

radiating circles within circles
an ancient and universal symbol for the Whole

It tells stories of eye and planet. Of cells, atoms, planets, orbits, universes , even black holes! Of beginnings and endings. Of never ending….
It ‘holds’ all.
This is everything.
This is why we come into circle.
This is the first fires and the human ‘beans’ who gathered around it for warmth and light.
And sometimes I am enabled to sit in it’s centre through mediation which always gives me joy.

I experienced a clear vision for a piece of art I intend to create tomorrow.

Something I that found bothered me a little, within the Day One info, was the use of a symbol I know well, here called ‘The Vitality Code’, but I know as Triskele.
This is an ancient Celtic symbol. Over 6,500 years old.
While used in similar meaning, it seemed odd to me that while there is much talk of honoring indigenous tribes and our ancestors, this has been used without acknowledging the origins of this scared symbol.

I spend much of my time researching the ancient tribes of our own Western lands, our true, blood, ancestors, and find they still have much to teach us too.
I felt some disrespect in this, especially, sited as I am, on Scottish soil.

Three is indeed a magik number.
It is inherent in the above symbol for Source also, in our eyes (pupil, iris, white of the eye), the Earth (crust, magma, core) and, of course, Father, Mother and Child.
I feel it’s magik most powerfully in the glide of a waltz or in the Scottish Country dancing ‘pade ba’…the dance of the ‘individual, the diversity and the Whole’.

My kookie ‘bent’ led me to wondering if it really matters which way this symbol turns.
(I have such thoughts often.)
I was for a long time blinded by the swastika propaganda and it being an ‘evil’ sign, until I traveled to India and learned that, not only is it a holy symbol (of similar meaning to Triskele), but that to true Hindus it is of little consequence as to which way it turns.
Some say one way for the feminine, one way for the masculine….all fine as long as it turns and keeps on turning.
I own a Hari Krishna shirt that is covered in swastikas that turn both ways. I wear it infrequently these days, for fear of offending others.
This is what can happen when the truth of something is corrupted by another’s malevolent control of it.
(I am not, however, suggesting that is the case with this doubt over this use of the Triskele! Just a lack of credit where credit is due. Something we artist’s are overly aware of.)
I like this double Triskele very much, as it has a labyrinthine nature of going in one way and coming out another.

The words ‘Vive la Difference!’ meandered through my brain as I listened to the mediation…..

And then when I opened my eyes, I saw this first!

A long-loved optical illusion that I have had on my artden wall for years.
It seemed to say alot about radiating and vibration!
Even if these do give many a headache….please do not look too long at this if it affects you this way!

I looked up the meaning of ‘diversity’ in the dictionary.
There were several different definitions, the one I liked best was….

‘the diversity of something is the fact that it contains many different elements’

As someone who believes that we are all stardust, and who lives by rules of Earth, Fire, Water and Air, this rang true.

True as the bell that was used in the opening ceremony.

I hear and heed the bell.

A resonating call to Awaken.

So after all this musing, and peculiar pondering, I sat quietly to see what would arise through me.

On my alter I have many objects of natural beauty and wonder.
The spirals in the shells and Shiva’s eyes called to me and, instead of beginning the mud art piece, I found myself happily working away to make these digital images.

I found this Triskele, or ‘Vibrancy Code’, calling to me as I handled these wonders from the ocean.

I then ‘took it’ to photoshop and created these two images.
One from a seashell and one from a land snail.
I found it interesting to note that in all natural forms the seashell spiral turns anti-clockwise from the inside out, the land shell clockwise.

But I suppose that is respectively clockwise/anti-clockwise from the outside in and entirely the other way round from inside the shell (as with the Shiva’s eyes!)

seashell triskele

Not quite the contribution I had planned to share.

More words than image.

But true to what arose in me this Day One of Essence.