Thursday, December 31, 2015

Sunday, November 1, 2015


So it's November and tis the season to remember. I remembered something yesterday, something I can't believe I got so far away from.

Two nights ago I had a rather chilling dream, where I was in a basement, and I moved a blanket that was covering a table and there in a little basket under the table was our old cat. I was shocked and horrified that I had forgotten our cat! She was thin and emaciated and so glad to see me. Right away I rushed and made her milk and eggs and she was so happy, she bounded up the stairs and seemed to be her old self, with no hard feelings.

It was easy for me to read that dream, although I have been living my painting, and living my yoga, I have not actually been doing yoga for months, nor have I been attending my Sangha every week, and no chant or meditation has enveloped me for quite some time (read months and months).

I have been using the excuse that our schedule has changed so my Monday Sangha meeting is difficult to make, that life is so hectic with odd deadlines and new learning curves that I have no time for yoga and it all came to a head with that dream.

So yesterday I said  my intention out loud; 'I miss yoga, I really want to do that new class!'(303), and today I have just finished class 303. (*And for Melissa, it was everything I loved Mantra's and pigeons and everything I don't love Utkata Konasana and Utkata Konasana (Can I say that twice please?;-p).

And now I am putting my intention in writing because as much as painting fills me to overflowing, I needed that little reminder that I have to keep the container in good nick! No hard feelings, let's just go back upstairs to the light.

Tuesday, October 20, 2015


TRANCEOLOGY is available in the UK right now! Few more hours it will be world wide on iTunes and hit me if you'd like an autographed copy - I still have 4 left!

Monday, October 19, 2015

It's been ages I know!

Things have been going crazy around here since I began painting in February! I am hoping that things will calm down soon - but in the mean time, head over to my new website and check it out, or come and hang at a show!

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Let's make Mondays more fun!

Let's do something fun, for me, for you and for charity!!! I'll try this for a month and see if it flies... Yay! (And please share around if you like!)

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Thoughts on Canada Day and Moss (2015)

Today as many people are posting pictures of the flag, and are off to block parties, parades, fireworks venues and other 'stat holiday' activities, a lesson I received decades ago comes back to me.

In my elementary school here in North Vancouver (Blueridge rah!), we were fortunate enough to be able to attend 'Outdoor School' every year. Outdoor School was a few days away with your classmates in a remote, forested location, where you learned about orienteering, forest safety, edible plant identification and the like.

One year, in probably grade 5, we had a counsellor named 'Sky' (yep, it was the 70's you're right!). Sky took us hiking one day and I recall him squatting down and pointing to some moss. 'This moss', he said' has been here for many years, it takes so long to grow, you have to be very gentle with it. If you disturb it, say you're sorry and try to put it back.'.

Lots of the boys in the class laughed, but for some reason, I knew it was the right thing to do. And still to this day, I will blurt that out; 'Be careful of  the moss, do you know how long that takes to grow? Say you're sorry!'

Anyway, here on Canada Day morning. when many people are thinking about our culture and freedoms, I am thinking about how fortunate we are to have this bit of land, and how I wish we could all say 'Sorry', and do our best to keep it healthy and not take it for granted.

Happy Canada Day.

(OfNote: I also learned what happens when your counsellor comes into the cabin at night after your classmates have played 'Princess and the Pea' and stacked their mattresses 10 high with you perched on top.)

Take a tour of Vancouver in the 70's here:

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Art Explosion at my house!

Hey kids, so I took a painting class and all heck broke loose, it was my creative tipping point - come and check out my work!

Please share everywhere!!!

Thursday, March 12, 2015

Things I've learned on the Internet so far in 2015.

We need coaches to live healthy, good and productive lives (apparenly they are stepping in and making up for lack of teaching in the school systems).

Canada’s government corruption is the same as any government corruption, they’ve just been quieter and don’t carry guns. (**I thought afterwards I should probably clarify this: What I learned is that it is the nature of government to contain corruption. Giving that amount of power to any individual or group will always have a negative side. I was just under the delusion that we were somehow 'better' in Canada than is other places. But we really aren't.). 

Anybody can raise money for anything, and people will fund it.

Everybody has a voice.

Everybody is an artist.

Many good deeds go unthanked and un-noticed.

There is some good in the world.

We’ve wrecked the planet.

Yoga and meditation are in.

Even heroes die.

Helen Hunt is still fabulous.

Only one person likes daylight savings (Fiona! but she does want to keep it year round so is forgiven, because we all want the change abolished).

I don’t know very much.

*Ok, something I already knew, but am writing them out here for good measure.

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

A Valentine for Sylvie Murrow

It’s almost ‘that’ day. That day where we’re ‘suppose’ to make a show of affection to someone we love. Don’t get me wrong, I AM of the grand gesture sort, but I do it every day, so when Valentine’s Day comes around every February I just shrug and watch the parade go by and sales on all red, pink and heart shaped thingamabobs – skyrocket.

I firmly believe that romance should be left in books, and it should even have it’s own genre and warning: ‘Romantic Fantasy – Beware’, like on cigarette labels, so there are no expectations or mixed signals out here in the real world.

Curmudgeon? Nah. Realist? Yeppers and I know when it all began.

I was in grade 2 and my mom in a mad dash, had to run out and buy a book of Valentines, because we were meant to give one to every kid in our class. I spent hours at the kitchen table that night, tearing out each Valentine from it’s little perforated bed, writing in fat pencil the names of my classmates and then nearly-origami-folding every one for the greatest secrecy into it's little gluey envelope. The next day they would be deposited into a paper bag – not unlike an airsickness bag now that I think about it – which was decorated and taped to the front of each of our desks.

I recall sitting through the day watching all the 8 year olds try to sneakily put their cards into those bags. I didn’t understand the ritual, but at the end of the day it seemed that we were to eat red frosted cake, and open our brimming paper bags to receive all of the red-hearted love that our classmates had bestowed. But what really happened was a lesson in math.

22 kids in the class and only 17 kids with that magic number of cards – a sigh of relief if you had 22 – I did. Then all at once, one girl was crying. I recall the teacher was saying something about that we were suppose to give cards to ‘everyone’. One other girl, who nobody liked, called Sylvie Murrow, just sat quietly. She smiled thinly, I could only see a few small corners sticking out from under her small hands and I know she didn’t have 22, probably not even close, but by grade two she was already use to this.

I never knew why nobody liked Sylvie Murrow, I thought she was a nice girl. People laughed at her blue ‘cat’ glasses, they laughed because she lived right next door to the school. They even made fun of her at her birthday party, where there were a gaggle of girls who all sat beside each other on the couch, stating in whispers that they were only there because their mother’s ‘made’ them go. We went to see the movie The Cactus Flower – it was way over our heads, but Sylvie Murrow sat glued to the screen.

Now I understand, she was just different, and probably already had a respect for Goldie Hawn and Ingrid Bergman that would take me a few more years to cultivate.
I never thought it was right, or fair and I was never part of the bullying, but I never tried to stop it either. I guess I had my own demons to deal with, so I, in my awkward state sat with my pile of Valentines on the desk in front of me, just being relieved that I had the right number.

I’ve tried to look Sylvie Murrow up over the years as social media has grown; I have never found her. But I want to give her a Valentine this year, with all my heart, to try and make up for those lonely elementary school years and to start a new tradition.

If we have to have a Valentine’s Day, what about giving one to somebody other than your main squeeze – what about give a card to someone entirely different.

Here’s a card I made for you to give. 
From me to you, and from you to……..

Just cut along the dotted line.

* Names have been changed. *

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Why I don't go to funerals.

Why I probably won't come to your funeral.

I don't believe you are dead.

Dead is a word we made up to cover the range of emotions we feel when you are gone.

You, gone from your recognizable self, from your form that walks and talks and crawls and breathes, the one we are most comfortable with.

But I still see you in the clouds and in the rain, and in my memory, and sometimes you are still so vivid and alive to me that I forget you are not here in your old-self-costume. The body that disguised you.

So you are a part of me now.

And I am not dead.

So instead, I'll celebrate inside of me, with you, every day.

I will miss your voice, it's sad that it's gone from my ears, but I probably won't come to your funeral, because you are not dead.