Now we are seven ...

Somehow - and without my permission - Cowgirl went and turned seven on me. Seven. No longer a tubby toddler or dumpling-faced preschooler but a little girl. A little girl with BIG attitude and personality. Sass central resides our house. But I am learning to see all that fire and spit is just her way of establishing independence and laying claim to her space in this world. From day one I declared Cowgirl to be my wild mustang and that is still true at seven. I don't want to break that spirit, I just want to help her learn to channel it in positive and loving ways.

Feeling all sentimental about the seasons moving 'round the carousel of time, I delved into my vast photo archives - not a task for the faint of heart! (Lesson one: use tags! Lesson two: be consistent in titles! Lesson three: Create folders!) As a photographer, it was interesting to see my eye change along with the changes in my girl. I also noticed threads or themes developing as I chronicle our life as a family. And I saw where my attention got deflected and gaps appear. Not to be hard on myself, but gaps in my taking photographs does translate into lapses in my attention as a parent. A useful flag for me to heed.

As I collected these images (but no means all my favorites, but the ones I could find as I haphazardly opened folder upon folder - my images organized only by the date they were taken - hello?! Pure madness!) I was thinking about a recent conversation with a friend considering whether she wants to try to have a baby. I remember well that dilemma: pondering the life I knew and loved versus a life hidden like a prize behind door number two. Do I stick with what I know or take a risk that what lies behind that door is not a goat tied to a stake but something big and shiny and exciting? A vehicle to a wider and wilder world?

And I know families that have been shocked by what was unveiled ... although they still might make that choice knowing what would arise ... but it is a gamble. I cannot know what my life would be without my child but I do know this: my Cowgirl has blasted open my heart which had been pretty wide open beforehand. For me - and I do not want to sound like those people say "you just don't know the scope of your love until you become a parent" although in my case, that is true - being a mother has mentored me in the experience of being vaster than my mind could ever comprehend; loving more deeply and fiercely in a primal, wild animal sort of way; knowing a love that is eternal and unchanging and dare I say, as close as humanly possible to knowing how god or the goddess or Great Spirit loves each of us.

This is the gift my daughter gives to me: inspiring me to dig in deep and nourish all that is within me because to do so makes me a better parent and a better person. Her trust and confidence in me has healed wounds and doubts self-inflicted; her belief in me has helped me realign with my understanding that we are all love folding back in upon itself and flowing outward in communion with the world.

And she keeps me moving, growing, expanding, learning and never, never lets me rest in what is easy. Did I mention the wild mustang and the need for sharp, constant awareness and presence?

my sweet angel from Lisa Hofmann on Vimeo.

(music by Jonatha Brooke "Sweetest Angel" from The Works)

Happy Birthday my angel. You are the sweetest and most demanding guru I will ever know.








But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world ..." (Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince)

the experience that is Squam

Traveling home from Squam yesterday I was thinking about another return trip. When Cowgirl was not quite 3 years old, we took our first family trip to Cape Cod. Flying out, one of us went through the airport security screening and then waited on the other side while she walked through by herself. On the return trip home, it was just Cowgirl and myself as the Husband dropped us off at Logan airport to continue onto a workshop.

Arriving at security, I wondered how I would get my young child to go through on her own. I decided to make her go first and told her to "Go ahead of mommy." She gave me this uncertain look as if to say "You want me to leave you?!" On the other side of the screening station there stood an older, somewhat grumpy looking and stern female TSA agent. Pointing to her and in my most cheerful voice I told Cowgirl "Go to the nice lady!" Cowgirl looked at me, hesitated just a moment, then turned and ran full throttle through the gate. She headed straight for the agent, flung her arms around her legs and hugged her as if she were a beloved auntie. The woman's reserve visibly melted and she announced "You have no idea how much I needed that!"

The experience of Squam is like that for me: one continuous series of unexpected hugs and the surprise of realizing each time "I really needed that."

an excited meeting of my bunny sister, Brandi Marie

Squam is one big hug-fest. But the sense of being welcomed, held, and received extends beyond the act of a physical hug. The experiences and the encounters with old and new friends, teachers and classes is a repeated series of homecomings. Weary from the tasks of parenting, family, and work, the 4 days of Squam represented a space and place of returning to myself and discovering the pool of inspiration and joy to be very deep. When life gets demanding, that pool can feel frozen or lost. But in the embrace of Squam I found myself thawing out. What is unimportant is more easily shed and what is left behind is what truly matters: love, enthusiasm and a sense of connection radiating around and within me.

another sublime hugger: Pixie Campbell

I return home refreshed and fortified; I return home ready to fully receive the hugs of those whose love lies deepest in my heart. Squam is about caring for myself so that I can be a better mother, wife, daughter and friend. I return home fully committed to what I see is the most important task at hand: to create for myself and my family a beautiful and art-filled life.










I have more pictures, art work and stories to share but this is what floated to the surface of my heart.

Thank you Squam. Thank you Elizabeth for the very best hug of all on the final morning as I scurried to the airport shuttle. Your words and your mama bear hug reinforced the newly formed intention to be gentle with myself. Always.

Monday Inspiration Celebration: mountain fun

It's vacation time ...







we're playing in the mountains ...








keeping cool ...











seeking thrills ...






enjoying the chance to just chill ...








together ...








we'll be back soon ...








with lots of inspiration and goodies for our party, so until then ...








Save the date: August 1






See you then!
lots of love,
Lis and Cowgirl

(we are on the prowl for some chocolate inspiration to offer this Wednesday for 52 Photo Project ... it's a tough mission, but we will try our best!)

Monday Inspiration Celebration: hello old friend ...

My body has not always been my friend. Or more accurately, I have not been the best of friends to my body.

As a child I had pretty rotten eating habits. I was a picky eater and dinner was often a bowl of cold cereal. Sugar cereal that is. I ate from one of four food groups: carbs, fats, fruits and sugar. And while I rode my bike and ran around the neighborhood, exercise was a foreign concept.

In high school I developed an eating disorder. I did start eating healthier foods - I discovered vegetables, chose salads over carbs, cut out sugar - I just didn't allow myself enough food. I also became a runner and fitness nut.

While I believed I was finally tending to my body, I was really atoning for the crime of having a body. It wasn't something to befriend as much as something to control, tame or subdue.

When I was in graduate school I had an accident and I broke my neck. I had to spend three months in a halo brace and then months in various cervical collars. While I recognized this "accident" was a call for me to stop living mindlessly - to really wake up to what I wanted to be doing with my life - at some level I believed my body had betrayed me.

Soon afterward this upheaval (I dropped out of school one semester before my qualifying exams, moving to our present location for a new job) I discovered yoga. I began a dedicated practice in which I began to heal my relationship with my body. Or so I thought.

While I tended to my body's needs, cultivating deep listening to its wisdom, I believed I was entering into a new relationship defined by respect and trust. Then my body disappointed me yet again.

The dark secret of miscarriage is the shame one assumes; my body's inability to do what it seeming was designed to do left me feeling deficient or defective and angry with its lack of cooperation.









All these stories came tumbling out of me this past weekend as I worked on my art journal spread for Earth, the first topic covered in The Elements of Art Journaling course with Effy Wild. The prompt was to consider the associations I had with the word earth and from there to look at what words or ideas expressed my experience or sense of my body. The phrase I was to consider being "My body is ..."

phase one of my journal spread ... lots of layers, paint and potato stamp

I actually cheated. While I had lots of images/thoughts about earth, I didn't think too much about my body and its connection to earth. As my page evolved it came time to take a photograph of myself to use in the spread. I had just taught my Sunday morning yoga class, so I naturally assumed a favorite pose.

After 17 years of practice, my poses have changed significantly. My body has changed and my relationship with it has softened. Where once I had been strict and disciplined, I am now more gentle and accepting. I am not interested in pushing my body as much as listening to it. As I photographed myself in Warrior I pose it struck me, my body is a map of my journey. It is my compass guiding and directing me. It has never let me down; rather, I was not listening to the wisdom it was trying to impart: open, relax, soften, trust, find contentment within this skin, within this moment, this life.

My Body is the compass for my journey ... it is my guide, my teacher, my friend ... it connects me to all Life

My body has been my best friend on this journey, putting up with a lot of my crap and abuse and still she serves me with patience and tolerance. My body is my friend; she connects me to earth, to life, to my animal nature and is the portal to deeper truths and a wisdom accessible only through living through loss and gain, pleasure and pain, birth, death and rebirth.

Monday Inspiration Celebration: sewing magic

Singer Rocketeer
gift from my father to my mother
compensation for swollen ankles,
indigestion, insomnia
and my eventual arrival.

1962 was the last year of all metal parts
but I inherited
my mother's weak knees
not her patience
or even stitches.

The rhythmic hum
one room away,
sewing was my mother's one true gift,
each stitch a mantra of love
neatly executed.

Only now can I appreciate the extent of her devotion
to manifest affection
through cloth, word, paint, song.

It is only now, a mother myself, do I recognize the need a parent has to express their love through multiple mediums. As if words are insufficient when it comes to describing the extent of my love for my child. So I paint, I make cards, I leave notes (well, she believes the fairies and our house gnome leave those), I sing and yes, I even attempt sewing.

I love the creativity behind re-purposed clothing and when I saw these skirts made out of old t-shirts, I was inspired to clean out some drawers, dust off the Rocketeer and try my hand at creative sewing.

I am pretty shocked this came out as well as it did -









I used this video for guidance although I fudged the pattern a bit, making more of a wedge shape in the hopes the skirt would flare out from the waist a bit more. My machine does not allow me to slip the skirt over a sleeve arm, so I cannot easily sew in the round but I was able to create a gathered or pleated effect by "bunching" the excess material in even spaces around the waistband as I sewed the two together. (I don't know if that makes any sense unless you sew; suffice to say, as I sewed the two pieces together I had no idea how it was turning out or if indeed I had sewed the skirt shut!)

This was a great project completed in the time Cowgirl and her dad were at the swimming pool. As applique t-shirts are a staple in her wardrobe, I am excited to realize I can salvage those cute designs and stretch their use out for another season or two. (for this project, I used 3 of Cowgirl's t-shirts to create the 9 panels and the bottom of an adult tee for the waistband.)

Now I am seriously contemplating this play tent design (with the help of the husband for the frame) and of course some festive pennant banners as seen here. (Honestly, can you imagine a more magical birthday celebration?)

Happy fourth of July to my fellow Americans enjoying a long weekend!

Monday Inspiration Celebration: relax and be inspired

On Being has become my favorite way of unwinding, relaxing and receiving. I have been going through the archives, picking a favorite author or speaker and listening to inspiring talk after inspiring talk. I love working on my mandalas or doodle pages while listening.

There are so many great talks to choose, but the one that really speaks to where I am right now is this offering from yoga teacher and social activist Seane Corn. Even if you never intend to practice yoga, I invite you to take the time to listen to how she transforms her wounds and challenges into opportunities for healing, growth and empowerment. Make a cup of tea, put up your feet and prepare to be inspired.

For information on Off the Mat and Into the World go here.

thristy (inspiration meditation)

I feel like I am on a raft at sea, dying of thirst with water all around me. Which is to say on a conscious level I am aware of a number of impulses and ideas begging for me to pick up my pen, brush, camera or journal and act and yet ...

... and yet.

I am recognizing my desire to take on new projects, explore new medium is a form of aversion. Yes, part of me is having fun playing and experimenting but part of me is also hiding. To keep skimming the surface of things (what someone once labeled "scanning") is to avoid going in deeper where things may be murky, dark and scary. But to not visit those places means limiting myself to always living on the surface and also reacting out of fear.

I am listening to Tara Brach read her book Radical Acceptance where she talks about compulsive doing or work as one of the addictions we seek as a means to avoid intimacy with our inner life. She read this passage by Thomas Merton: "To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything, is to succumb to violence."

I'm not even sure what it is I am pulling away from or what I think I might find. I just know I need to heed the impulse to draw within. For what I thirst for will not be found "out there"; what I seek - what we all seek - can only be found within. I know it has to do with acceptance, embracing the whole of me with total love and compassion. Ironically, the first poem I nervously submitted to Maya for her feral writing course addressed this issue:

I am tidy by nature -
stuffed animals were organized
according to
order, family, genus
never a mingling of tigers with dogs,
the monkeys kept away
from cats.

Or is it my training?
librarian
historian
life stored in plastic tubs
photo albums
dates, notes, names penned onto tabs.

How is it then
I seem to have misplaced my dreams?
As if all the busy work
was a means of avoiding the void.

Was I careless in my packing?
Or careless with myself?
Tidying my life to
tidy an unruly heart.








Like my petunia plant, I need to do some serious deadheading.I know I need to tend to my heart right now ... there are messages and truths waiting for my attention and too much busyness is preventing me from having the space and time to listen. Listen with openness, love and acceptance which cannot be rushed or crushed into a tight time table. I know I will still be creating as a means of exploring these whisperings, but I am returning to the theme of last summer which was Say Less, Create More. Or maybe Say Less, Trust More?

second baby tooth lost over the weekend

I think if we have a tooth fairy to reward these transitions, then we need a soul fairy to reward our transitions on this journey to wholeness. What should she leave under the pillow?

Monday Inspiration Celebration: being your own teacher

Ten years ago I attended a yoga workshop lead by the world famous yogini Angela Farmer. A friend had given me a copy of her dvd The Feminine Unfolding in which Farmer talks about her journey and specifically how she came to follow and trust her own inner guidance and experience. What struck me was Farmer's use of language, her emphasis upon self discovery through experimentation and encouragement to cultivate the teacher within you.

The workshop exceeded my expectations and was pivotal in my approach to teaching and practicing yoga. Recently, I have come to understand how it is informing my creative and spiritual work. One piece of advice that Farmer gave us and has stuck with me is this:

if you have a choice between taking a class or doing your own practice, always choose your own practice.

Oddly enough, this is pretty a radical departure in how most people practice yoga in our country. Anyone who considers themselves a serious yogi/yogini probably believes they must attend regular classes, follow the guidelines or posture sequence or flow series of the school of yoga that they study. Classes and guidance of an experienced teacher are invaluable but ultimately there comes a time when one needs to tune in to their inner guidance, trust themselves to know what is needed and follow that direction.








The same is true for one following a creative path. And I think this is why is has been difficult for me to wrap my mind around the idea of trying to market my creativity: for me, making art is about processing my life and experiences through creative expression; it is a means of coming to understand myself and my history in a new way. Through the process of creating, I approach emotions, memories, experiences from a new angle, one which generates integration of past with present, often resulting in healing at a deep emotional and spiritual level.

I have found this especially true as I attempt to write poetry. Working on a piece about visiting my father before he died, I found myself remembering the visit from the angle of trying to capture the details: the emotions, the expectations, and the actions. It was like like dumping over a drawer, seeing the contents all jumbled up and repacking them in a manner that makes sense today. Going through that process, I had insight into my motivations that I wasn't aware of at the time. Pulling it all out and putting it together was incredibly healing for me.

Is it art that anyone may want to buy or own? That doesn't matter to me right now. And I'm not saying it is it wrong to try to want to make a living from your work but for what I do, the value resides not so much in the finished product but the journey I take getting there.

I am also discovering how my interest in animal medicine has helped me develop a greater trust of my intuitive skills and of my ability to ask the questions I need to ask and then to hear the answers. While there are guide books and oracle cards to use in practice, ultimately working with this medicine is all about sharpening my awareness, seeing the signs, and trusting my judgement and experience. Just as yoga teaches, the answers we seek are to be found within ourselves and not given to us by another. The relationship is between oneself and Great Spirit. Nothing more is needed.

Yes, as I am, I have all I need to be enough.

These are the ideas that manifested in my pieces for my series 49 by 49:







Cordelia, the celtic fairy goddess of Spring and Summer blossoms counsels to find balance in life by spending time in nature and to stand firm in one's beliefs. She represents the beauty found when one is authentic, blooming in their unique manner and form.








Ixchel is the Mayan Moon goddess and a powerful healer. By practicing Reiki I am tapping into her energy and acknowledging the reality of Unity and Flow within all life including me. This has be a difficult practice for me to accept: for the longest time I did not trust I was doing it right or "getting it." But patience and practice have lead me to understand the quiet power of this work, accepting I too am capable of experiencing its gifts.








Angela Farmer told us anything and anyone could be our teacher and certainly Dog has been a constant guide throughout my life. I think all I need to say is summed up in these lines responding to the prompt golden boy, a piece inspired by my previous springer and my Moose boy:

My golden boy,

you taught me

we always return

to our hearts’ home

but detours are fun,

pleasure is a bone

well chewed,

smelling takes place in time,

guard what is yours,

offer the soft belly of you

to those you trust,

and understand

patience is a prerequisite

for love.

How do you honor the teacher within you? Is that a voice you inherently trust or have you had to cultivate that relationship? Always, choose your own practice, choose yourself.

Monday Inspiration Celebration: my life in paint

Still buzzing from this:

"... there is a faith simply in the validity of art." (Madeleine L'Engle, A Circle of Quiet)






Taking time off ... a random act of self-kindness ... packing up knapsack with paints, pads, pencils and pens, Poemcrazy (a gift from a goddess), new poem journal (can you see my gooseflesh?), apple, pbj, water and granola bar ... driving to the botanical gardens and getting lost for a few hours.
























Or was I found?

journal page following prompt from Wild Precious Studios (seriously folks, it is free to join and tons of goodness within ... come over and play!)

Living beneath words, watching for the signs, inspiration found in dreams








and in the middle of my path.








Signs were posted to beware aggressive turkeys as it is mating season; turkey symbolizes the realization that all is one, everything is sacred. Turkey represents giving selflessly because what we do for others, we do for ourselves. Turkey appearing can represent receiving a great gift or the impulse to share. So this amorous turkey was especially eager to bestow his gifts - a beautiful, art-filled day.

Yes, faith reaffirmed. And blessed and celebrated.

Monday Inspiration Celebration: or insanity?

I cannot begin to express how blown away I am by everyone's support and encouragement for my, ahem, little media experiment of last week. I am truly excited by the possibilities for deeper discussion and dialogue that video story telling holds (oh, okay - Vlogging! I vlogged. I'm okay with that!) I know I have already have thoughts for another session jotted down in my book, so I think I will be doing some future pieces. Definitely a Friday kind of event.

I find it thrilling to learn so many of us are Fred and Ginger fans! Here I thought our common link was creative self-exploration, but maybe the glue that binds us is a desire to find the ballroom moment in the everyday? (I now remember my first public-ish video was me dancing for my Unraveling course ... honestly, I am just now realizing the depths of my dancing dreams ... )

Okay, I am a bit scattered today, the result of a luxurious 4 hour coffee break with friends exploring some of the issues raised here last week. My mind is fudge at the moment. Not a whole lot of inspiration, but a dose of insanity?





Yes, the light blue ukulele finally arrived! (Ukuleles are apparently wildly popular - who knew? - and the music store cannot keep them in stock and this batch was delayed in arrived because of the tsunami. Not to belittle a horrific event, but crazy to see how it impacted my life via a much anticipated ukulele.)

Already I can tell ... we are going to love it. I know 3 chords and can already play All Together Now by the Beatles. Cowgirl rocks the chorus. She is more free form, but very intent. When I brought it out, she had her eyes closed and as I placed it in her hands her grin widened and she was giggling and immediately smitten when she finally opened her eyes.






So between the coffee and the ukulele, I haven't had time to do much here. I do want to share one huge HUGE inspiration ... the wonderful ning group run by divine Miss Effy Wild over in her Wild Precious Studio. There are several groups I immediately joined: one for art journaling and another for mandalas. Each one has a weekly prompts with videos and links, bringing together some of the best stuff out there and it is free people, yes free! Here is a piece I did over the weekend after watching one video:






Check it out. I spend one evening perusing the site and already have a beaucoup ideas for things I want to play with in my art journal (and I haven't even looked at the photography site yet! Be still my aging heart!)

Here is one video I saw before on making mandalas that is shared on Effy's site. Get a pen ready ... it is hypnotic:










So much more to share ... May Day celebrations, brownies made







clowns seen, the first farmer's market of the season ... guess I should watch the mandala video again and calm myself down ... I am also contemplating a 21 day power poetry writing class. What do you think? Should I leap?

Welcome May. I am so happy to have you finally here.

Monday Inspiration Celebration: Springtime thoughts

While Spring has been slow in manifesting, it has been on my mind for a long, long time. It seems with each passing year I anticipate the arrival of Spring with a little more urgency than I did the year before. Is this a natural part of aging? (She says as she dons bedraggled slippers, moth eaten cardigan ...) Or a sign of a growing sensitivity and awareness? It feels as if my bones crave sunlight and warmth, my senses desperate for the sights and scents and sounds of new life.

Thankfully, there were tantalizing glimpses of sunlight and wafts of spring breezes peppered throughout the holiday weekend. It did not rain as forecasted and the neighborhood Easter egg hunt went off without a hitch (which means the snake living in the field was found before the egg hunt!)


















Cowgirl had a grand day: Mr. Rabbit and the Fairies and Fred, our Gnome delivered a bountiful basket.

cowgirl really wanted the penguin stamp; i found a cute chicken coin purse, japanese animal erasers & a new sketch pad. of course, the comments were all about the lack of variety in the candy. i admit, i kept saying "that Easter bunny really knows how to pick out good gifts. to no avail.

I even got my buns down to the sewing machine and made her the tote bag I had been promising for months. (Note to moms considering crafty acts of love and kindness: do not expect gratitude equal to the effort or frustration put forth in said project; do expect demands to become more elaborate and precise.) What was to be a simple bag morphed into the faux-quilt bag. I talked her out of an actual patchwork bag - I loathe cutting multiple and precise squares - and into this more haphazard affair although Cowgirl was very specific about the fabric selections and their arrangement. Random is not in her vocabulary.

In addition to the miracle of a rabbit delivering thousands of baskets on one day (hence the need for our Fairies and Fred to help out) we had a little in-house miracle of our own: Cowgirl rode her bike without the training wheels.









Her current bike is way too small for her and jokingly the Husband told her she would have to ride it first before getting a new bike. So she hopped on and that was that. (I'd like to believe my girl inherited her determination and persistence from moi but she was definitely born with it.)

I also managed to finish off a few more pieces for my 49 by 49 project. One of my intentions for the project was to experiment more in techniques and media, the small format of the cards lending themselves to trying new things out. Which is my way of saying - and expecting - that I won't always like the end result. I decided I would not trash any effort unless it is really abhorrent. I am being practical: I know myself well enough to know that the gremlin of perfectionism lurks in the shadows, waiting for a chance to trip me up and leave me paralyzed in inaction should I start to get all fussy. I also believe mishaps often hold the greater insights which reveal their lessons over time.

Okay, much ado about nothing.

i tried using vaseline as a mask over the figure and then stamped butterfly wings onto the card. the wings didn't show up like i had wanted, so then i used a mehndi stencil for larger wings. still not thrilled.

It is probably obvious the theme of Spring would continue into this series. One figure new to me is that of Butterfly Maiden. I draw this card fairly often when pulling Goddess cards. Having recently finished Snake, I found it interesting to consider the meaning of transformation from a different angle. Whereas Snake medicine for me is about letting go of what no longer serves me, Butterfly medicine and Butterfly Maiden seem to offer me lessons in learning how to open myself up and welcome change. I read somewhere how this goddess affords us the opportunity to understand the process of evolution within our lives. This perspective is in alignment with my spiritual beliefs and growing understanding of myself and my journey. I do believe we are born with certain lessons to learn, tasks to fulfill - or not. There is a choice. But it seems to me growth, understanding, happiness and fulfillment are found when I move through challenges and see obstacles as opportunities to expand and develop personally and spiritually.

unhappy with the results, i resorted to a somewhat obsessive dot process (a cross between Seurat and Lichtenstein's Ben-Day dots?)

An obvious inclusion in this series is Hawk. I had been putting this card off as Hawk such an important totem in my life, I wasn't sure how I would create a card that represented Hawk's significance. Hawk's medicine is the gift of clear sight, patience, knowing when to take action and a heightened awareness to messages and signs. Hawk is about strengthening intuition and strengthening decisive action. Go figure I was indecisive in knowing how to portray this powerful teacher!

In my life, Hawk has both circled and hovered over head; sat watching me from roof tops, tree branches, light post and poles; has crashed into my dining room window; and continues to leave me feathers like bread crumbs affirming my progress upon my path. I attempted to transfer an image of a hawk's feather to the card, painting the silhouette of hawk in flight behind it. I tried a masking fluid which pulled off more paint than I had intended. I may return to this card, but for now I am heeding Hawk's example of patience and conservation of energy.

my favorite so far: a Sarah Ahearn-inspired collage technique (seriously, her book is really revving my creative engine)

My newest friend and ally has been Robin. Of course, robins are the quintessential harbinger of Spring and this season the only thing keeping me going through the icy rain and gray mornings has been the sight and sound of this plucky bird. Robin represents new beginnings, new growth but with a sense of joy, laughter and song as we move through the transition. On a personal level, Robin has shown me lessons in determination and patience. Every year we battle the robins who wish to make their nest on our front porch. While I love the idea of robins finding our home a suitable place to entrust their eggs, the reality of robin poo and robin attacks is not so romantic. So we remove their nests and as fast as we take them down, equally fast a new one appears.








While robins may appear common and ordinary, their message is anything but. They mark their territory by their song and teach us to claim our place by using our unique voice. I actually found a tiny feather from a robin's red breast and I wear it in my medicine pouch - the red breast of robin aligning it with spiritual passion and dedication. Perhaps their persistence and dedication in nest building and worm seeking a reminder of the skills essential for us on a creative and spiritual path.

Speaking of determination, this blog post has taken me far too long to compose and I have another project waiting for me this afternoon: dandelion honey. It may be raining outside, but it will be sweet in my kitchen.