the dreaming Press.

This girl.

What do you prefer, big vases with monumental arrangements or tiny offerings scattered throughout the temple that is your home? These were given to me by an employee that is shipping out to work at sea once again, and once again she'll be greatly missed.

I placed these peach roses into multiple Moroccan tea glasses. Prettifying up the sacred spaces and sills. All the small things make for grand living. When these are no longer of this Earth I will replace them with various pickings from nature. I've decided I must live in prettiness. My two eyes have to look out of my head each day at my surroundings...so why settle? Why look at a flowerless sill when you can look at one strewn with cuttings of wildflowers or little branches gathered up? Why I ask you? My year of fun has really only begun...out of hiding are the long dresses and sandals, the toes are getting extra attention with bright colours & jewels to celebrate the short season. Annnd..

..I've come to the conclusion that today is a "This Girl" day. After all, it's been over two years since the last one. Join me, won't you?

This Girl is white coyote sightings, chocolate chip cooking baking in early mornings, green green over-seeded grass that croaking frogs adore, honey bees & olive trees, wicked laughter, napping longer, crying over spilled milk. This girl is terrified, overwhelmed, gasping for breath in stormy seas, yet. YET.

This girl is also singing loudly while folding laundry, grabbing her daughters for butterfly kisses & hugs that last 'til a cocoon forms, lakeside bird feeding, potato chip indulging, lead-footed eagle-eyed crazy cautious, and sea foam bubbling up on sandy shores. There are people she misses greatly.

This girl is inspirito, exoticus, sanskrit, wood and hummingbirds. This girl's bones creak, her heart soars, her mind wanders. She tries her best, she succeeds, she fails. She shrugs. She sleeps and starts all over again in the morning. She dwells on the lesson. Long after the winds have blown the skeletal dust which remains of it down the road. She sweeps her thoughts with a corn husk broom so that the whirling dervishes of her mind don't prey on her Zen too long. She tells dirty jokes but gets offended at tasteless humour. She won't call you. She just doesn't have a lot of free time. But she still adores you. Still thinks you are just wonderful.

This girl is really no longer a girl but don't tell her that. She'll punch you in the chops. This girl longs to fly the world on a magic carpet, sleep under the stars and build a cabin with her bare hands in the forest. Then she'll sit on a word bench of her construction and tear it down dissatisfied and wanting to make it that. much. better.

This girl makes a mean pizza and can chase it down with a bold red. However only one glass, as she has to work in the morning. This girl isn't perfect but man does she love whoever-she-is-now and if it isn't perfect then who gives a flying monkey fluff! She can't go anywhere or do anything without her camera in her hand. Her life is over-documented. She writes her life as a story and won't be happy until the main character confronts her demons, gets the guy, wins the trophy & lives happily ever after while dancing.

honey bees & olive trees

Since the world is what we make it...why not make it the best possible place? A place with only room for pure truth...

breathtaking beauty....

...and the greatest of all virtues, love.

This day I am seeking. Seeking whimsy, sunlight, and the solving of puzzles. I'm seeking out illustrations of a stylised and artful entymological nature, as I have inklings of getting a honey bee tattoo. I love them so, and after seeing one on the wrist of a woman this week I couldn't help but think of the reoccurence of this symbology in my life...my daughters are the honey bee and the olive branch. Perhaps both together in a small sepia design somewhere hidden would be ethereal.

What is interesting to me besides the images themselves representing my two beautiful creations, is their inherant meanings. The honey bee is symbolic of untiring work, hope & the soul. The olive branch is victory, longevity & honour. It above all is a symbol of peace. Which is what we all need, don't we?

Truth, beauty and love exist everywhere. I hope on this Sunday you find it lurking in your newspaper, 'neath the sheets whilst you dream, in the cry of an eagle soaring overhead or in the gaze of a large white coyote who visits in the night.

When you were born, you cried and all the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice.

~Cherokee Proverb

XOXO

All pictures taken by Gillian da Silva in Petra, Jordan. March 2010

Joyous! No one can take my freedom away~

Oh man I'm so hungry, cutting the grass is tiring work and so now I'm patiently awaiting tonight's feast. There is a homemade lasagna in the oven (yeah, mine!), smelling all delicious with it's layers of Italian cheese, fresh pasta and strained tomatoes with basil. I don't use tomato sauce, I find the strained tomatoes with basil (homemade or bought in a jar) gives the dish a more authentic flavour. Not that I would know for sure, never having been to Italy, but having an Italian neighbour who bottles her own tomatoes has given me inklings to say the least! It is a little like armchair travel, experiencing one of her meals. As close to Tuscany as I'll get for the moment.

I must tell you the funniest thing that had me in near tears this morning...a sighting of a woman jogging in a tin foil suit! It struck me as hilarious for whatever reason, I wasn't laughing at the woman (no way!) but the idea of "cooking"yourself while exercising. Like a wrapped up hot dog goin' for a jog-a-roo! I applaud the trailblazers like Tinny. At least she is out tackling the world and her health. Those who know me know I love to laugh...and it doesn't take much. I prefer happy over any other emotion. {Especially when something is so childishly funny you nearly wet your knickers over it.}

Sans tin foil suits, we walked through the woods this week, the trilliums are in bloom all over and the towering maples and firs wove us a warm shelter in the tapestry of our afternoon. I live to be surrounded by green. Give me a forest anyday. Better yet, a forest on a mountainside beside the sea and I'm in my personal heaven. :)

I bought a few ivy plants for my kitchen window today. I have to have climbing plants around me. Insense and climbing plants. Plants on the window sill are so '70's.

Oh I love the look our parents homes had in the mid '70's...those my age or older (ahem) would remember with a fondness the macrame plant holders, teak furniture and low lines. Such things as large green bottles that collected wine corks were also all the rage, and rightly so. How time has flown since those Buster Brown days. That was back in the special days, when you ran out of money on a Saturday night, and that was it my friends until the bank opened at 10 am on Monday morning. No automated machines to spit the cash out at you. Once the wallet was empty, that was the end of it. My kids don't believe me when I tell my funny stories of no bank machines. They roll their eyes and laugh. I love that, they get silly. That's life giving.

Those '70's days were just so simple and joyous and organic and energizing. Today's technology can just wear you down...too much of it takes away from our real lives. We need to step back outside to that joyous green place. Tin foil or no tin foil...we need to just go! {Alternatively...maybe disco your way out the door.} Thanks Lori. xo

p.s. dreaming Press is now on Facebook.

Joie de vivre, fully supported.

sup·port (s-pôrt, -prt)

tr.v. sup·port·ed, sup·port·ing, sup·ports

1. To bear the weight of, especially from below.

2. To hold in position so as to keep from falling, sinking, or slipping.

3. To be capable of bearing; withstand: "His flaw'd heart . . . too weak the conflict to support" (Shakespeare).

4. To keep from weakening or failing; strengthen: The letter supported him in his grief.

5. To provide for or maintain, by supplying with money or necessities.

{Definition from the free dictionary. Thank you.}

I love support. I've been blind to it at times. {I'm sorry.} Overlooked it with confidence.

Yet.

If it weren't for that support, I'd be nowhere.

Go forth and do your part to support those you love. Yes, people are all that matter. Do your best, and the rest is up to them.

If they don't feel supported, perhaps they aren't supporting in return. It's a basic karmic principle.

Joie de vivre. It's a choice.

xo

walk a path lit with violets & happy hearts; today's evening post

 
Our hearts are in a botanical space, lit up with violets & hummingbirds in a pale & lovely symmetry.  Singing with valour and glee they beat uptickingly to gather up armfuls of mossy trees...as lilacs perfuming our very air. 

These are our choices.  

Allowing for the prana flow, the wild climbing of vines, the shock-waves of love that pulsate chuggingly from our raspberry-hued engines, the clapping of hands and the breaking-it-down Charlie Brown's, & the walking amidst paths of our own making {the ones lit with violets & happy hearts} rather than some pale version of one forged previously for us.  

This day was lime marmalade on rye, margarita cake & rhubarb martinis.  What an organically imbued palette of gastronomy! Our friend and neighbour hollered over the fence, "Cake and martinis?" Well, duh! Of course! See you after we get home from the park.

Skipping back from sunwashed swingsets & 'neath a singing cicadan moonrise...our hands & fingers hammocked, intertwined as if lingering lakeside at a cottage midsummer afternoon. A familiar place.  A place where the happy hearts of family dwell. Kudos to my friend for the superb rhubarb martini.  Sheer perfection!

Hope you've made your own conscious choices.  {To do such a thing is a magnet for divine prosperity!}

Let there be light.

xoxo

 

i bottled the blue sky with conviction & grace

the blue sky she tested me!

one day as a thrill.

she shone down and through silver and pewter cumulus puffs she asked me one question;

Do you know the difference between a conviction and an opinion? she purred.

"Yes," said I. "I'll bottle the sky. It is my conviction to do so, I don't even need to try. There are those who would argue, with conviction even, that I haven't actually done it. But being so true to myself I know those opinions are only reflections of the opinionators themselves. You see, opinions are like mirrors, they reflect back to us what we truly are."

You think you are so clever don't you? and then she misted me with a light rain and rolled in her ominous dark cloud. She thought she could sway me, {she thought me too proud.}

"That is YOUR opinion," I stated with a smile.

As I lay back on that croaking frog grass while the rain fell in sheets to blanket me, I still held my bottle of blue sky {as a hope within a conviction sugared dream.} That she could never take from me. And I grew, as a result of that rain.

xoxo

52 photos project, a ray of light

curving sunward weeping

 
Illuminate the bronze hearted will that dwells!

Narcissus curving sunward weeping 'woe is me';

I am this, and I am that! so therefore we are separate! And I am THIS. Not you, who are just and only that.

Lightweight hear me thusly- There is nary a distinction; nought a surprisingly affordable affirmation of artistry. 

Dancing deliciously onward I; snaking to and fro molecularly, secularly and infinite. 'til that karma burns its complex fuel to 'no-thing-ness' or we are born again of a thousand mothers.

Metal sews heat to snow yet as swallows fly close to the ever lapping shoreline; allow this and be totally free. 

{You & I} will return here until our work is done; no attachments & no purveyors of sweatlodge visions shall gobble us up until we ourselves spiral into relic form on that one day.

~gillian da silva

***

Sunday lazy, Sunday.  It started off with presence & it will end in presence to begin anew Monday.  Seeking a ray of light to shoot will keep me occupied until Wednesday amidst appointments, children, working & cooking.  Fruit is all consuming; pineapple is my best friend this week and I'm eating a lot of it.  I love it's cleansing nature;;;makes the inner workings feel nurtured and cared for.  Meditation tonight again after one in two minutes time; hope you understand the non-striving this brings me...wishing you all the same too.  When you get to this place there is no real sense in looking back.  How wonderful for me. {and YOU too}

xo

OH yes, my photo was taken last night out of Diane's kitchen window right through the screen; cross processed to perfection...a dreamy night shot of magnolia petals and a birdbath that once stood in her mother's garden. You can tell I love the dark & romantic tones of this shot so much. :)

Let the good times roll

20 perfect things:
1. Daydreaming.
2. Havarti cheese.
3. Blue nail polish...."Flyin High"

4. My family!
5. VOGA Italian Pinot Grigio in that amazing bottle, already chilled.
6. Blue jeans, old.
7. Beatles t-shirt, again old with the neck cut out.
8. Rain!
9. Dandelions that match my front door.
10. My neighbors!
11. Their hospitality and kindness!
12. Worms. Soil loves them, so do I.
13. Questions unanswered.

14. May, as in the merry merry month of!
15. Broken Moroccan tea glass. (Oops! Still pretty in shards!)
16. Mary Oliver's poetry. {None compares.}
17. Zzzz.
18. Starry nights outside on the porch :)
19. Lipstick, please wear some.
20. YOU! xo

 

Today I shall live wholeheartedly in love with all things.

Morning came much faster than I anticipated. I'm in a pink mood so if you see me at the little spa you'll see why. The world is afresh with the hum of insects and the chirping of birds...the grape jelly on my toast is making my inner child leap in fits of yellow! (I don't really overdose on yellow... but after years of brushing it to one side I feel it deserves it's moment in the sun.)

 

I'm hopscotch, fluffy clouds and dresses. Dancing madly and bright spring makeup. A dab of floral perfume and some fun kicks. Friday...you have a splendid energy you do.
xo

 
 Today's ring selection.  A pink robot.  Why would I wear anything else today!?

{Borrowed from my eleven year old daughter Olivia's collection of fine jewelry.}
 

Sleep will come, until then....just dream.

Wishes casting out for all, that you may be the beneficiary of all your treasure filled hopes.
xo