Category Archives: Magic Lands

What a 6-day vacation taught me…

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Driving home from a 6-day vacation in Minnesota I realized just how healthy and relaxed I felt. I never had a panic attack. I never broke out in a rash. I had taken the time to do daily tasks such as fetching water and wood. Slowing down the movements of my life and being present in each moment I allowed for the surprise of beauty to present itself around every corner. But most importantly I did not have to live up to anyone’s expectations of me.

I am happy with who I am. I love me. The man I travel with is an easy traveler and my best friend.

I know who I am. At that moment travelling in the car back to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan I tuned in deeply to the “place” I found within me, to the awarenesses that had surfaced.

I vowed to rebuild a life that nourished my soul, mind, body!

(more to come)

Life is full of curves…

Life is full of curves. Keep flowing!

 

Opacity on Our Periphery

Seeking opportunities for scholarships and/or artist-in-residence opportunities. I’ve been pondering “opacity…the in between worlds, the structures in our periphery that guide us but of which we are not fully aware.” I am looking for “time” to explore in poetry, writing, and photography these concepts.

If you know of other artists, books, resources please share as I take on this new journey and study.

Messy Magical Garden

This past weekend, I took a little time  in the gardens. The cold front that moved through last night brought much needed rain. Bumble-bees are loving the Echinops today. I once read that placing globe thistle near entries and doorways brings protection. I did a search on the Internet today and could not find the mythology of this and I am hoping to write a short-short-story so hope to come back across this information soon. I am most creative and poetic in August. August is a month for no work and I am  going to find a way to re-invent myself so I can take whole months for play. My first goal will be the months of August and October! I am thinking perhaps a kickstarter project is in order. A big girl camera should be on a shopping list. I can dream and make it happen. Magical!

Fairylands and Forty-Seven

Photo by Mike Hainstock

I’m blessed to live in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and to have The Wilds so readily at hand. Saturday I worked a 3pm to 11pm shift followed by the morning shift on Sunday 7am-3pm. I only managed 4 hours of sleep between the shifts. I think I surprised Mike when I came home and said, “Grab your camera–let’s go!”. So Sunday, around 4pm we headed out, guided by our intuition, and landed down a gorge near a waterfall in Fairyland where I fell in love with this tree. I could have taken a nap and listen to it whisper secrets!

Photo by Kim Nixon

Sunshine is like the equivalent to “the spoonful of sugar that helps the medicine go down” allowing me to sing in the face of negativity and danger! And I’ve been focussing on spreading joy and disconnecting from the negative that tries to swamp us down. Imaging and Imagining the life I want to lead is key!

Photo by Kim Nixon

Blossoming and branching and keeping that sense of discovery is important. What will sparkle in the sunlight under trees near flowing waters? You’ll never know unless you venture down into the gorge. Facing fears and trying new things isn’t so bad. The last time Mike and I visited this particular bend in the Carp River I was very afraid to walk over a log bridge. My fear of heights and falling so irrational. The creek is really only a foot or so deep, come on fall in I dare ya! (I can laugh now). I walked over it twice with ease on Sunday. Magical!

Photo by Kim Nixon

I am forty-seven and it is a magical age. I’ve having another spring and I can unfold, blossom, soak in sun, and enjoy the wind. I’m going to grow, heal, learn. I feel like singing often. I listen to my intuition and I can hear the little magical beings of the deep forest calling.

Self Reflections on the Dead River

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Dead River I-IV

(all rights reserved)

Part One: An evening with Mike on the Dead River Basin had me reflecting. I was thinking of May Erlewine, her music, her lyrics, her voice, and how I needed to be lulled by eddies. I was entranced by the surface tension of the water. The thickness of the water. Viscosity. The reflections of forest and sky. Upsides. Downsides. And how needy I have felt the last few days.

Chocolay Willow

Chocolay River Willow with Bridge
The April 30-Day Project–Day 7

After working at Zero Degrees Artist Gallery, Mike and I went for a walk from the Marquette Visitor Center up the beach to the Chocolay. We then walked up river from the mouth. And there “She” was, my willow. I had been looking for the perfect willow shot. The last month or so I’ve watched the willows turn brighter, more yellow, preparing for spring.

Gifted on a Day Off Work

Gifted
Day Off Work Hikes–Lil’ Presque, Marquette MI.

I came across this feather which appeared very blue-black in color. I was off trail. I had been called into the tall red pines and was walking bare ground as the trails had snow pack and ice. The air was warm, 45 degrees farenheit, and the aroma of pine filled the air. You could hear the sound of melting pack-ice on the shore of Lake Superior. After kneeling with camera, taking some macros, I picked up the feather and turned and in one step was another bluer, blacker, feather that appeared to glow.

Gifted Twice
Day Off Work Hikes–Lil’ Presque, Marquette MI.

The glowing feather. What bird was this? A crow, or perhaps a raven? What did these two feathers mean? What was the metaphor and story trying to come through? I was called out to the Big Lake, today.

What’s been calling you?

Ice forming…

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Each step I take brings me into deeper healing, brings me back to poetry, opens my heart to sky!

It was just a short walk today…from camp to water’s edge. I jogged back up the hill, though. This weekend I refused to rush myself. I did little of what I had planned and I slept a lot.

On the ride to camp, I read poetry by Russel Thorburn from his book, “The Whole Tree as Told to the Backyard”

I love these lines:

At my typewriter close to the window/the cold earned its right to be a metaphor,/but none could be found as we heard/the tree crouching in its dreams.

We took things from the yard and garage (at Craig Street) to camp for winter storage. We brought home wood for the garage woodstove. I picked up buckets and pots. Found three small pumpkins in the garden.

We dropped lumber at Michael and Beth’s home, too.

Dinner was re-warmed roast chicken and I smoothed yesterday’s leftover mashed potatoes into a casserole dish and baked them until slightly crusty.

Now, I have little energy for anything else.

I feel ice forming. It’s below 30-degrees. I am ready for an afghan and more poetry.

Is Autumn Awaiting You?

Too rushed! I feel panic most days. I want, so badly, to slow down. But I’ve let my choices get too confused and I am forgetting that we are entering a time of release and rest. I need to touch this season and watch it fall, watch it release, watch the fragility of leaves as they crumble.

I’ve certainly been fragile. My neck so sore. I’ve a great need for naps (and I do not let my head rest). I want to color with markers at a picnic table and write with pen on brown paper lyrics, and symbols, let out the mysteries that angels whisper in my ear.

How are you moving with the seasons? And is there a new choice to make? Perhaps you’re letting go?

Please share…

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