Oct 11, 2012 | Global
Call of the Wild Soul
“We are strong when we stand with another soul. When we are with others, we cannot be broken.”
-Woman Who Run With the Wolves
Iv met the most expansive woman here at the (Call of the Wild Soul.)
Woman so full of identity. Raw love pours from their spacious and true hearts.
I felt like a flower bud: Ripe and ready to open and grow.
They taught me not to rush the process. That MY TIMING is perfect.
I am exactly where I should be!
It’s a spilling open season where the cage of my body has cracked open.
The BOLD vulnerbility may now blossom forth.
I committed to vulnerability being my Strength.
We spent the weekend eating Moroccan food and drinking red wine.
We created paintings,photographs and art journals.
We laughed and flung open the shutters of our hearts. We spilled and cried and held!
There is nothing like being with “Like-Minded” woman. Who are burtsing with the same life as you.
Call of the Wild Soul was a home for us. A place of safety to create and let our Wild love and creativity run!
I AM so blessed to have went and returned with a re-newed heart!
Oct 11, 2012 | Global
Hopefully my song bird doesn’t mind that I adore her so MUCH I had to share her blog!
Introducing: Madelyn Mulvaney
A incredible beauty for many reason that would take up pages upon PAGES. But for starters she is an incredible writer and photographer, that just cuddles your heart and walks you straight into her would.
I had the immense pleasure of spending several day’s in the English country side of Somerset with her at the (Call of the wild soul retreat.)
She led a course called (Persisting soul) and took us on rich photo walks full of juicy surprises! Including our friend John Turner I posted about before. We meandered the countryside and allowed the earth to fill our buckets of creativity. Once we had returned we filled our cups many times with the inspiration and drank wildly.
Oct 10, 2012 | Global
The streets are a mix of old world cobblestone and concrete.
The men are dressed lavishly in suits and pipes, giving them the appearance of wise scholars.
Bicycle’s are left here and there, leaning against buildings like wallflowers watching the lovers walk on by.
The streets look uniquely identical. Each building has its own character of its former owner.
Creating a patchwork quilt lining the street in this fashion.
They remind me of more romantic era’s where men would sit and write poetry while drinking espresso.
-I’m in the train station hiding away from a friendly downpour. It seems the crispy cold air is running too, wrapping its fingers around my form. I complain only a little to my sister patiently waiting next to me. I day dream of living in Oxford and riding my bicycle to the book store and picking up something by Walt Whitman. I entertain the idea of drinking cold refreshing beer at The Eagle and Child while reading my poetry.My mind wanders far into another reality before it’s jarred back by the arriving of our train.
Treasures bought:
Franz Kafka book and poetry book from the 30d’s.
Oct 9, 2012 | Global
Hiding behind evergreens nestled in an English garden.
His stories spilled over into eager ears.
His eyes thin slices of wisdom.
His wrinkles story tellers themselves.
He crafted remembering’s of his journeys in war and living in foreign countries.
He told me of the hot summer days in Singapoore when his only solace was an open window.
He told me of living in Hong Kong and how strange it is to see photographs of this enormously alive city.
(It wasn’t such a place when I lived there he exclaimed.)
Then he came upon his favorite story:
Indonesia,
It was like a love letter the way he described her. A great magic Island untouched by western culture.
It was magic, he told me, like a fairy land. He spoke in hushed tones.
Almost as if he was still in those years and his voice was only but vibrations soaring through time to find me in a lush garden.
-In many ways he inspired me to pursue my dreams with bold thankfulness.
(You may meet someone ex-ordinary at any moment, who will change your life. Pay attention!)
Sep 18, 2012 | Global
Because of my food allergies I have been slowly gathering recipes I can make myself. One because I feel oh so accomplished making something from scratch and two so I know nothing in the recipe is unsafe…
My dear friend has been making his own Almond Milk for a while now and it’s the best i’v ever tasted.
SOOOO much better than what you buy in stores.
*It does take some thinking ahead.
Almond Milk:
What you will need:
Nut milk bag (for milking)
4 Dates
4 cups Water
1 cup Almonds soaked in water for 24 hours (Important)
1/4 teaspoon Vanilla exstract
Pinch of Salt
Directions:
Take your almonds that have been soaking, Wash very well and drain water out. You won’t use this water in recipe.
Take your blender or vita-mix and blend dates with water until there are no chunks.
Add all ingredients and blend well.
Pour into nut bag and milk until all the nut leftover is in the bag and liquid is in a bowl.
-I like to put mine in the fridge before drinking. Warm milk isn’t my cup of tea. Either way it’s ready to enjoy!!!
Sep 17, 2012 | Global
A little baby bird I saved…
My Fruitive breakfast and first pumpkin spice of the season!
Coffee time for a fall day.
Two things I’m adoring…
An amazing venue where I saw Beach House.
A seriously incredible show…
Playing with the kiddos…
