Remember to look at the sky.


I get scared.


Shut down.

Oh– these endless yammering clamouring thoughts.

Inner turmoil.


What’s wrong with me?

It’s just the old wounds weeping.

Just the old anguish re-instating itself.

It’s just the ancient inherited sorrow of my ancestors–

Mourning their loved ones.

Grieving their losses.

It’s just the old trauma,

My trauma,

My losses, my sorrow,

Claiming their hard won territory

In my torn and tattered soul,

Warning me of impending danger.

I succumb. I surrender.

I shake and quake and shiver and shudder.

But then I remember.

This is just one waking dream.

This is just one ancient human drama.

This is just one ancestral dance.

One story,

One memory in the ancient human story.

I can clear this.

I can dissolve this.

I can transform this.

With brush strokes.

With song.

With prayer.


I can both honour and transform the sorrow in me–

With Love-

With the living breathing–

and very much alive–

Love that does not perish.

Love that can not die.

Breathe. Exhale. Inhale. Release.

And remember to look at the sky.

Look now– at the endless unfolding grey

and white and blue–

and the windy clouds scudding across the endless sky–

rolling on to Tomorrow and Forever.

Look at the rain moving from the north.

Look at the miracle of the sky and remember the love.

I can remember my little brother, my father, my grandmother,

my grandfather.

In that endless rolling canopy above our world–

I can see the love that still lives in me.

The love that passed between us.

The love carried in my ancestral line–

The love that connects us all.

The love that never dies.

About a month ago my friend Connnie– artist and soulful mentor of so many– created a very special project to honour a beloved friend who had suddenly passed away. She invited online friends and fellow artists to participate. Come see it here. Piecing Together the Sky

Accepting uncertainty and living the questions in life and art.


“Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart.
Live in the question.”    Rainer Maria Rilke

I love these words.

I try to call them up when

I face uncertainty


I am in the middle of developing

an idea that is slowly forming in

my mind.

I don’t know if it is a play

or a short story

Or something else altogether.

My  desk is covered in sketches of  artists who have  inspired me I am not sure why I drew them.

The images are clues or perhaps  threads  of  a story – slowly weaving itself in the back of mind.

poests painters and revolutionaries 2jpg

If I stand back and speak to

my images I might say JacksonPollack and Lee Krasner and Andy Warhol–What are  you trying to tell me?

Why are you here? What are you pointing me to?


For me drawing opens a door into  a deeper

more potent form of imagination.

Something beyond intention and anything


Maybe these drawings are part of a search

into my own psyche.

Maybe I am digging, sifting through the layers

of  my early romantic ideals-

when my fascination with these famous artists

woke up some kind of young longing in me.

I don’t know. I have to sit with the unknowing.

Here is the thing.

There is a relationship somewhere

between the drawings and the writing I am doing

and my own life right now.

It’s not always immediately evident.

I  look at the drawings that come out

after a session of writing

and I think  ok–

I  think that  the subject of what

drives someone to create

is the subject I want to explore.

And somehow death is part of the subject

And how the need to be present for life

is part of it. And how creativity

is the way of showing up.

And I think that somehow

spirits– as in the spirits of the

dead artists  are alive to all of us who

look at the art they made and left behind.

But I don’t really know.

Maybe drawing the artists

and even writing in this blog

is like playing with a Ouija board,

and I am summoning spirits from within myself–

to help me with my troublesome imagination.

I know the location of whatever I am writing

is somewhere just west of collective unconscious.

And has to do with a place where artists

can meet and converse.


e thing is, with art and with life–

sometimes we have to tolerate

the churning and distracted feelings of  uncertainty.

Because on the other side of this unknowing,

is the path to where it all makes sense.

It’s true we  must learn to live  in the questions–

as Rilke tells us–and just wait–because beyond

the  clouds of uncertainty,

is the bright blue sky of knowing.

The story will weave itself together and everything will be revealed.


Heavenly Messenger a new work dedicated to Hali.

Sometimes inspiration will surprise you. Sometimes you will be so moved that you have to act.

Sometimes the inspiration is about gratitude and expressing it.

I decided to dedicate this painting to Hali

It started out as an intuitive journey–I was just playing around with layers
and letting the art come intuitively. I named it Eliza–for no particular reason–
just cos I thought that it might be a good name for this girl–
But then I changed my mind.
I had to Thank You Hali of Lilywheelslide for your art and your inspiration.
I believe you are a heavenly messenger.