Ethereal Graphics

Upon a Christmas Midnight . . .

  . . . came an Angel casting starlight

along the pathway in the woods

where peace is found.

 

Merry Christmas to all!  See you next year!

Daytripping . . .

I found a little group of pictures from a Father's Day visit to an absolutely magical hidden lake.  I had been meaning to edit them and do something with them for awhile, and of course, out of sight (deep down inside that tiny memory card), out of my creative reach.

That entire day was absolutely enchanting.  The lake is very small and hidden out in the forest.  As I walked and snapped pictures, I could almost feel the little fairy eyes watching in curiousity. 

Tiny black tadpoles swam in little protected pools of downed tree branches as flowers swayed in the warming sunshine and the dance was all around me.

 

Visit my new portfolio link in progress . . .

http://www.wix.com/SuzEthereal/SuzPortfolio

The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh . . .

I love taking visual journeys on this amazing www!  I Especially love visiting fellow bloggers in places like  Lantlif's amazing Swedish blog (the picture above).  This morning, I am on an internet sleigh ride . . . Come along and let's visit holiday homes in blog land . . .

This Madonna shrine amazed me!  She is on Ste Therese 's blog . . .

Oh!  To visit Australia . . . below is a holiday image from Simple Things Small Joys

and . . . justGO Here!

Yummy Christmas deliciousness from belle blanc in Germany . . . breathtaking . . .

Heidi in Norway . . .

 

Jade in Bayern . . .

Belle-choses, Germany . . .

Gua in Sweden . . .

Click on the names above each picture to visit them and of course, visit their own blog rolls to continue the journey!  Just be careful . . . times flies when you're on a sleigh ride sippin' coffee in the warmth of your own home office! 

Dreaming is one of those things that happens when we are sleeping . . . or in a 'dream state'.  This morning along my walk, I was in just such a state.

Cold, gurgling water beckoned me from below a small bridge . . .

 
 
 
 

Tiny white puffs on brittle brown branches whispered, "Pssst  . . . "

I heard this guy's call, then quick 'swoosh' behind prompting me to turn and snap his picture . . .

And when I sat down at my desk, she pulled it all together. 

Tiny little silver bells, tinkling crystal clearly. 

A flicker's sight at wings of blue,  they must have cost him dearly.

She plucks white flowers, spikey thorns

draw deepest passion's red

'Neath crystal light

this fairie's flight

cross icey waters sped.

She is

 
  
 
I've holed up.  Breaking free from the sharp and beautiful cold outside and burrowing down into warm blankets . . . eyes closed, lids heavy with those hot, salty friends that accompany me to sleep each night.  And I ask Her . . . show me the way . . . I trust her . . . to save me

Feather your inner nest . . .

Christmas is a time for giving . . . and I love homemade, sugared-in-glitter vintage images to spark a memory.

This week, I am finishing up my holiday Affirminders, sugaring ornaments, gathering tattered ribbon, scanning beloved vintage images . . .

 . . . assembling all of my components, adding hand-turned rosary beads & hooks,

and holding my personal Christmastime memories close . . .

Heart on fire

 
  
  
 
I have discovered sketching again.  Painting has not ever really been something I've delved very deeply into . . . not for lack of having the ache of it, but just not knowing how. 

I'm usually much more in tune when I'm sketching with a pencil, or digitally altering stuff to create - paper doll style.  She just came out, like most of my creative endeavors . . . and I'm not sure how she'll end up,

but this is her begining:  My heart yearns for what is true and I've learned there's a difference between yearning and pining.  The truest gift in life is when we can listen to what's burning inside of us and let it through instead of shutting the door on it.  There are so very many 'reasons' to close down.  Life's bruises can be painful and deep but we aren't victims of it all.  We are gifted with the chance to learn from them, and grow . . . for myself, I can say that it's adversity that eases self uncertainty because as we suffer, we stop caring about how we 'fit in' and start caring about blossoming inside.

 

Sweet Sugar with Angels for comfort

 
  
  
  
Sugar and Sunshine . . . icy cold air numbing my lips and nose this morning.  I had no idea where I was going, just listening to the day's waking rythms, one foot in front of the other.  Glad I remembered to grab my camera.

Enchanted.  My angels have gathered round me and I can feel them.  Sweet wings of comfort.  They help me see the beauty in a cold December morning.  My tears don't spill over, but stay in my eyes blurring the sidewalk and frozen leaves beneath my feet. I am so lost . . . and yet, they are there, guiding my path and somehow, I end up back where I began.

There's forever in a moment.  It may not be relevant to a human's way of thinking about time, but there is plenty in this universe that begins and fades in one single moment.  For us, things come and go . . . and we never realize it . . . unless we stop and open our eyes to it. 

My heart is sore and though I try, I can't seem to deny it's beat  . . . beat . . . beat and the blurriness spills over, washing and cleansing again a wound I fear may never heal.  Tenderness and healing, tears are such an elixir originating in emotion of a million different facets.  Shining, warm, salty and spiritual.  Stay with me. 

Let's eat cake today!

  
  
  
 
  
  You just never know . . . at least from the outside looking in (Duh!)  Did you know that Marie Antoinette's favorite color was said to be green?  Me neither.  Now, if it had been blue . . . you know . . . that saturated, ethereal blue that so many french interiors display or . . . Pink!  Yes, pink . . . I think, would have seemed more her . . . at least to me . . . from the outside looking in.

I've always been enchanted by magazine images of opulence and 'far away' places.  The interior journey that imagery (magazines, book illustrations, sometimes just paper textures or ink color) sparks must be a doorway of a kind for me.  One that creaks open in quiet moments when I just let go and lose myself in some visual. Movies, travel, art, new friends . . . these are all doorways.

When we are 'looking in' to a person's living space, their physical interior, I can't help but feel that sometimes (and you know when because we've all been in those homes where your breath just stops when you walk in . . . and a kind of transportation takes place, sweeping you up and cradling you in a peace that was gathered from the soul side and pulled through to the physical side) a human being gets out of the way of their spirit and lets it comfort them via their living space!  Ahhh . . . like living in a piece of art . . .

Today, I vow to celebrate this part of living that for me has always fizzed just beneath the surface of my physical interpretations. I will go thru the portal of pure intuitive bliss and explore this day's color, texture and then be open to it's whispers and guidance, too.  I am forty five today!  A new begining . . . a new threshold .  . .I'm jumping through!