Month: April 2022

The Creative Dream

I dreamed of flying a course

On the back of Pegasus.

A white winged flying horse .

An ancient  mythical creature.

A friend of all muses, 

The keeper of the springs 

That well up from the earth.

The creative waters’  birth  

To all our gifts we’re given 

By the ancient deity of Creativity.

I was carried over land and sea

Pegasus,  wings beating 

to the refrains of Apollo’s  musical lute.

Landed safely it stilled my questioning 

All my fears laid silent, all mute

As I allowed my eyes to see 

The lay of the land around me.

All peaceful as green a meadow

Fringed by a forest was a glade 

And Pegasus rested drinking

In those spring waters

 I was not afraid; I did the same

But always curious

as to what I would find

by that small spring ,

it was now mine.

A gift of my imagination

which brings inspiration.

All arts entwined, for here

a picture of musical persuasion

became a classical chorus

in which  voices shared  

A choral choir hour after hour

I sang like a child believing

in my talent of reaching

 the high notes there. 

And my eye and hand

in constant flow created 

A masterpiece of brushstrokes

I so truly loved.

All was gifted to me at the well

Of creativity, so I took  each discipline

experimented with those gifts

all semi-crystalline, half learnt

I still haven’t mastered

one strain of the Arts.

In my own mind a failure of sorts.

Therefore, all I produce are tarts.

Flat and filled with half the fruit

 of the total work of inspiration

imagined beauty of self-gratification

regardless of the creative persuasion

all are just patchwork in need of attention. 

And so now in my retired years

My days are filled with editing

Stories, poems, and prose

Repainting the so-called masterpieces

and learning how to really sing.

Blessings of age and living

In a first world society

A blessing I now recognized

As those in other situations

Don’t have the freedom

And no time for actualization.

Maybe just maybe the magic

Of the spring still gives.

The well of creativity

Be part of my redoing

Rehashing, rehearsing

revaluing , relining

And revisiting the spring

Of Pegasus dreaming.

To question spirituality is to question reality.

It is our way of seeing things which form our world around us, and each individual sees that world through their own eyes and values. We all judge everyday. We all see our world through our morals and judge others by those morals that are formed in our learning, growing years.

There is an old saying which is true in many ways.

“Give me a child until seven and I can form you the adult they well become.”

At seven my parents where questioning their own faith and visited many different religious institutions. This I believe cemented my own thirst to know  about all faiths and now in my middle age years I have settled into acceptance of my own personal relationship with the universe and the power of life on this Earth of ours.  For me, God does exist. But I don’t push my understandings down on anyone else. Religious understanding has become personal and individualized, not as a whole and one institution.

From seven on wards, it is fear which stops us from doing something morally wrong, or against our family values. Fear rules our world more so these days than anything else.  For by going against the childish learnt behaviours we must change ourselves deeply on a spiritual level. Either improve ourselves or slide into the depressive state of low self esteem without reaching out to others to help.

Depression can rise when one’s values and morals are challenged and questioned. You no longer can believe in what was once drummed into you as those values and understandings have mortified into something seen as alien. 

Who then is right?

Which person has the right to say what is right and wrong? 

At one time it was the spiritual leaders now it is select groups pushing their own understandings so they can be accepted. I don’t blame them, they suffered all types of discrimination and do have a right to live and love. But do they have the right to push their own individual understandings onto the vulnerable? Do they have the right to infiltrate all our institutions and favour only one way of thinking? Are they just repeating the same prejudicial behaviour on those who think differently from them, as was done to them?

I question? There is no answer for me.

So the acceptance must be to allow , let live all creeds and believe in the universal goodness of human love. That love which connects to our universal  collective,  and to love yourself as to who you are and not judge the other by your own values and beliefs. All then are treated with respect and all must be given the same opportunity to express themselves.

This I believe must go for everyone regardless of their judged alien understandings. They   have reached their own understandings by searching themselves deeply, courageously and hopefully achieved happiness by doing so.  

“The un-examined life is not worth living.” Plato  Apology (38a5–6)

Even so, there must be a general consensuses of allowing the other to have rights as well. Remember we are all different and we all need to learn to live side by side, that is why we are alive in the first place, on this planet. We must all have a place, even those who don’t see our own values as being correct. Those people are human too and need to be able to express their right to their lives and live within their own understandings. Only they need to give way at times to allow the other to have just as much right to their own codes of spirituality or difference in how they wish to live their lives.

This is all part of acceptance of the other. And I will not preach nor express , or impress my own personal understanding on anyone else. Can I hope that one day , the other can do the same?

Those pieces of art sitting around my home are an expression of a time when I was working out my inner being. Who I was and my value to the world. In some ways it was a healing process. I was recovering from a slight stroke event after having an Asthma Attack. The clay modeling helped me with coordination as I used hand eye manipulation modelling the clay into sculptures. The process of creation was like a medicine and improved my mood and sense of worth.

Prior to this course of learning ,I was doing water colour painting with the Water Colour Society of my home state. Again therapeutic, and rediscovered my love for art. At high school I excelled in this subject but after finishing school all my efforts went into becoming a nurse. Life, marriage and children followed , I kept writing poems but producing art only reemerged in convalescence and the healing produced a large body of work.

THIS FIRST IMAGE : Oil on canvas large painting this view is focusing on left hand side 2008

ICHOR- In the Views of the gods, like blood it flows.

This word means more than this,

immortal beings with immortal deeds

the true liquid instead of just blood.

Could it also mean the fluid of our own soul?

Or the link we have with the sound of the universe?

What frequency are we vibrating when we cry and when 

we sing, or hum on one note with love in our hearts?

I wish it to be of the creative kind to help this world

and every human being to be free and see the light,

the truth with only love in our hearts.

 We know that the beginning of all,  was from water

Coupled with sound is the source of life

And how our thoughts and emotions can

change us for a sick state into well

for our bodies are high in fluids

and we push through to connect 

to others with only love in our hearts.



But am I a god? With ICHOR in my veins 

as the Greek gods of old can I also claim 

Immortality in this world of flux and change?

Maybe someone will end it all and bring down our fall 

Am I questioning just my own self once again ?

I became the random atom and exploded 

as frustration boiled over and oozed out as bad hummus 

Smelling of fermented creativity onto a room full of friends.

Blinded by ugly demented art that charred my soul. 



I question my worth as a human being in closed hidden away 

Of stagnation of creativity I struggle, I stagger  then flay 

My soul and regard the other as the enemy when it is me. 

Destroying and hiding behind the walls I've created.

I am just as guilty of arts demise as we all flounder 

On the ocean in a rowing boat meant only for streams 

With out a rudder I dream of love for all in an Utopian world 

Not attainable in human existence, and have a gal to believe 

It can be so. But we can't give up on a world with better 

Conditions and a place were all or most can live in peace. 

where is the rescue ship in this ocean where is it if not 

within ourselves to transpose the little rowboat into a yacht

With anchor and sails to guide us through the rough times of life. 



We turn to the immortals and pray for our saving,

But the immortal is inside of us we do have the ICHOR 

And it is our higher selves which must take the world 

And see the way clear through those waters of destruction.     

This is my second attempt at figurative sculpture , Old Athena. Here I’ve turned the wisdom goddess into an older woman and not the younger beautiful strong female rising from the head of Zeus her father. Predefined male orientated look of wisdom. A myth in all ways as history shows us it is the older females who hold wisdom , as age can only give us that elder status.

The most inspiring god as he is physically lame and is thrown from Mt Olympus because he made a throne for his mother Hera in which she was unable to get out off. She cursed him to walk on earth among the human mortals. He taught them metal crafts and is not just the god of the forge but the god of volcanoes. All my pieces I had to drag from the physical plan of earth of soil and clay from this land Australia and memory of how ancient this land is with all the knowledge of the ancient and longest surviving culture and people on this planet , the indigenous of this country. It is in his capacity of volcanoes his presents here in this land. But that is my own interpretation, as I can not presume the right to claim the history of that ancient long surviving culture as I am not native to this land only born here with white woman’s eyes and ears, and brain/ mind.

I turn off the news

It is all too much .

Banning Culture

It smells of propaganda.

It is all too much

So I turn off the news.

I play music , classical

to calm my nerves.

War is not the answer

My friends, war is never the answer

especially now , especially

when our planet, our mother ,

Is trying so hard to right our destruction

war is not what we need.

The life giver, or mother to all things great and small .

Desperately needs peace so she can heal.

Think of the CHILDREN ,

why this fighting, for what ?

A dead world , is all you will rule.

War is not what we need.

So I pray for Sanity and Peace.

Peace for this world , this crazy world.

By focusing on an Ancient Icon

Orthodox image of the Blessed Kiss.