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The adventures of a 30-something Indigo...mom to an Indigo and and a Crystal child.
The most deviant thing about being an artist is not making it often enough.
I've recently found a babysitter for my three year old...he goes once a week. I spend that day in my studio.
Lucky and unlucky for me, the rustiest thing is my confidence after not producing much of anything for the past several years. I've been working on one commission now for 3 years!! I feel like such a looser! I've painted over this particular painting several times and the paint is crazy
I had my 4th? 5th? session of EMDR and I'm feeling so much better than where I was when I started. I had been holding on to pain right in between my shoulder blades for years and it has since shifted downwards. My anxiety about my mother is gone. If you've ever had a traumatic event in your life that continues to haunt you, I highly recommend this therapy.
I'm always amused when one of my little ones starts rambling about some hidden knowledge or another....usually in a very tired state.
Once my eldest son spoke to a tree while we were very near to a First Nations reserve. He claimed her name was "Owan-ya". Does anyone know where that name comes from?
Anyways, tonight it was my little one rambling on about his past-life...or so he said...and how he lived with a teenaged girl who loves/loved flowers. I'm not
I just had my second session of EMDR with my therapist yesterday, and I have to say, something is shifting from within my body. I'm going because of the abuse I suffered at the hands of my mother as a child...I thought I delt with this on my own years ago, but it turns out I just stashed it away somewhere, and I've had a resurgence of the effects of that childhood crap lately with all the stress I've been experiencing in my life. The theory is that you hold traumatic experiences in your physical
When I was a little kid, I loved to take out an old necklace and drape it over my head...then I would go to the window and direct the snow with my hands...get it to swirl around outside my window with gusts of wind.
The sun, moon and trees and animals were my friends and I would visit with them often. I could feel their love for me. I got angry when people used the term "man in the moon" because I knew that she was really a woman...an ancient crone with with the appearance