Still Following the Bee: Queen of the Impossible April 3, 2016Posted by wimynspeak in General, Workshops.
Tags: collage, collage workshop, Creative Writing, creativity, impossibility, impossible, Inspiration, intuition, intuitive powers, queen, queen bee, wisdom, women
Intuitive collage workshop for women, Saturday, April 16
The women came together, dancing and singing, under a star-littered sky, the nearly full moon rising just above the treetops. When their circle was formed, they grew silent, listening, hearing at first only the wind in the trees, the gurgling of the nearby river, the call of an owl in the distance. And then the sounds slowly came together to form one sound, one word, the key to their hopes and dreams: Impossible! At first the women were dismayed, until one of them, the one whose face glowed with excitement in the moonlight, said, “Well, aren’t we the lucky ones! There aren’t many who get to unlock the mystery to “Impossible.”
Come join us as we use the intuitive collage process, along with simple creative writing prompts, to find our own key to unlocking the mystery and crowning ourselves Queen of the Impossible.
Open Pricing * Please pay generously and joy-fully, according to your means.
Advance registration is required.Let me know if you can join us!
Rosemary Court Yoga Studio, 810 Central Avenue, Sarasota
Saturday, April 16, from 2:00-5:00PM
∞ Chrysalis July 1, 2015Posted by wimynspeak in Collaboration, General.
Tags: awakening, cataclysm, celestial winds, chaos, chrysalis, consciousness, cycles, destiny, dissolve, dream, eons, garden, imaginal, impossibility, infinity, passion, seeds, sleep, time, universe, watched, watcher
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Link to the video: ∞ Chrysalis
I sleep and dream the passing of time,
stars and worlds arising in an unremarkable march of eons,
destiny’s static hum.
And then . . . and then . . .
and consciousness is punctuated at last
by one thought like no other,
moving slowly along the continuum of infinity,
its seeds carried on celestial winds
to the cataclysm where chaos reigns.
Life paints with a palette of impossibility
and emerges from the imaginal soup
into the garden of the Universe,
the still-point of passion.
The container, fashioned from the contained,
spins back on itself in fertile mutation.
Caught in a star shower,
it regenerates in the empty center,
filling it with before and after:
the solidity of form.
I am both the watcher and the watched,
caught in the watching
as the march of eons converges with the dream
and I dissolve once again into the still-point,
the cycles of eternity.