MoonRise Oracle: Sweet Thunder July 1, 2014
Posted by wimynspeak in General, Workshops.Tags: collage, collage workshop, creativity, full moon, honey, Inspiration, intuition, intuitive powers, justice, peace, rainy day, renewal, storm, thunder, workshops
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MoonRise Oracle: Sweet Thunder
COLLAGE Workshop for Women
Saturday, July 12, from 2:00-4:30PM
The day it rained honey, rumbling thunder drummed across the sky, the land was renewed, people’s hearts melted, and life became luscious once again. The day it rained honey, the tea was sweet and so were we. The day it rained honey, all the bees hummed in tune, the queen danced, and the workers took a much-needed day off. The day it rained honey, we prayed for peace, and justice reigned. The day it rained honey . . . could be today . . .
Come join us as we use the intuitive collage process to brew up a storm of Sweet Thunder and drench ourselves in a honey-rain of creativity, expansive vision, and thundering inspiration.
Open Pricing * Please pay generously according to your means.
Location: Rosemary Court Yoga Studio, 810 Central Avenue, Sarasota
Advance registration is required. Let me know if you can join us: honeycombmoon@gmail.com
If you are on Facebook, check out this Collage Workshop Event on the Honeycomb Moon page. (And you might “Like” the page while you are there, too 🙂 ) Thanks!
This Is What Might Happen . . . January 2, 2014
Posted by wimynspeak in Bee Write!, General.Tags: front porch, karma, magic, movie star, rainy day, roles, squirrels, story, tree
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This is what might happen when you stir together
* a rainy day
* a front porch
* a tree
* and an aging movie star trying to keep a low profile
and write them into a story . . .
Belva had always believed in magic. The way she got her first part in a movie when she was only six years old was magical. The way she had worked in film throughout her teens was magical. The fact that she had had a normal childhood, despite her fame, and had never succumbed to the glitz, glamour, and glare of her industry, had not become drug or sex addicted or belligerent and out of control was particularly magical.
Belva had always chosen her parts carefully. Karma couldn’t tell the difference between real life and imagination, including movies and playacting, she believed, and so she chose to play only those characters that were consistent with her values. And then she would dive into the role, relishing the opportunity to be someone magnificent, someone she yearned to be herself, someone doing great things in the world. She had had many inspiring roles over the years and had even won a few awards, which she had accepted modestly before packing them away in her mother’s old trunk.
Her retirement had been a conscious decision, as all her decisions were. Her career was still going strong, she was still being offered choice roles, but one day, sitting on her porch, watching the chattering squirrels in the chestnut tree in the front yard as they collected their winter store and dodged raindrops, she realized there was no place else she’d rather be, no part she’d rather play than the contented watcher of squirrels on a rainy day. This was magic!
Honeycomb Moon 