My goals will be of the artistic kind, because its become increasing apparent that this is what I need to do.  How to set goals? This is a question which I’ve given some thought to as I’ve tripped myself up with this too many times!!

1. Be heart centred . Plan to do what you love to do, not what you feel you should be doing.

2. Reach for the stars. Don’t limit yourself – ask yourself what it is that you really want to do, then expand, expand.

3. Break it down into tiny, tiny and then even tinier steps. Its too easy to trip yourself up by trying to attempt too much at once, then get discouraged and stop. Then have to start all over again!

4. Be gentle.  No struggle.  Often more of the right things are achieved by gently focusing, without stress or strain.  We are always exactly where we are meant to be, doing the things we are meant to do.

No time planners here, just some thoughts which I hope you find useful!  Happy, creative and peaceful 2008

Horse guards Parade from ‘St James’s Pond’

Closer

Old and new – next to the London Eye.

This was posted as a response to the story prompt ‘The Magic Garden’ – A Kazakh Folktale found at https://newliteracy.globalteacher.org.au/

1. watercolour and mixed media

2. Gesso and sponge print watercolour

3. Pastel

Hope brings magic

Faith brings magic

Love brings magic

Magic lives everywhere.

This was posted as a response to the story prompt ‘The Magic Garden’ – A Kazakh Folktale found at https://newliteracy.globalteacher.org.au/

Millie woke suddenly, breathing rapidly, hands gripping the sheets.
Again, the same dream.
Only a dream she told herself, only a dream. Standing in a crowded place, alone, people walking round her, unseeing -she is crying out with no sound.

Millie lay awake, gradually relaxing her hold on the cool sheets, slowing her breathing. She lay watching the moonlight filtering through the curtained window creating soft shadowy shapes on the wall and bookcase.

‘No one hears me’. She knew what the dream meant. It had always been that way.

Waiting for her heart beats to subside and her eyes to accustom to the darkness, she lay watching the moving moonlit shadows. Hearing a soft rustle to her left, she turned her head sharply – surely not the mice – she would have to get the pest control people in again.
With a small sigh she relaxed back against the pillow, hoping that elusive sleep would claim her until morning.

‘Millie’ – the whisper was soft against her ear, quiet inside her mind. She opened her eyes. There was no one there of course – there never was. Wryly thinking that years of loneliness had begun to turn her mind, she closed her eyes again tightly, determined to ignore the voice and slip away into welcome oblivion.

‘Millie, I hear you.’

Beginning to feel alarmed she sat up and looked around the room. No, nothing – her wardrobe, dressing table with the good perfume she had treated herself with last Christmas, a pile of books on the floor, net curtained window open to the balmy summers night.

‘I hear you Millie’

Feeling rather silly, she surprised herself by whispering back, ‘Who are you?’ No answer. of course! What was she thinking?

‘Look out of the window!’  Millie peeped outside and softly caught her breath. It couldn’t be! It was Tom! But she thought he was lost. Running downstairs and outside in her bare feet, hair streaming behind her, she sped across the ground and flung her arms around his warm neck. His mane tickled her face and he blew softly in her ear.

‘Where have you been? I’ve missed you so much’

Sliding her hand across his back she noted the saddle bags packed for a journey and a voice whispered again ,

‘Come on, its time to go now, no time to lose. Come on the journey to find your heart’

Millie did not hestitate. Where Tom led, she would go. Her childhood friend, they had been inseparable and she was inconsolable when he went away. Dressing quickly and gathering her painting gear, crystal and warm blanket she climbed onto his back.
As he walked slowly down the path towards snowy mountains she had not seen before, she heard a soft chuckle.

Enchanteur watched, smiling, laughing softly to herself. Everyone has a voice she murmured.

The unicorn has left his image in my heart,  angels leave white feathers for my wings,  an eternal flame of love lights my path,  spectacles show me the way across rock strewn mountains and dream seeds nurture and grow most precious dreams in my heart. My anchor, my blessed anchor travels with me always, keeping the faith and keeping me strong.