Fears of the shadow self

Since removing myself from my families influence in 2012 my mental health healing has improved far quicker than anticipated, even by health professionals opinions; many of my irrational phobias no longer exist and I am now able to learn to trust medical practitioners somewhat these days.

Since moving away from toxic people I have learned about a concept called “The shadow self”, which is an element of our inner being that is a mystery even to ourselves, usually resulting in irrational fears of something that can only be overcome when you are no longer affected by its symbolic element anymore in your day to day lives – many people never get over their fears because they never get over the element which causes it.

For me it has been a very surprising education of myself.  Certain phobias I once had, I no longer have and I have learned what those elements are which I have been avoiding socially or in my life, which has caused a fear of something seemingly unrelated.

The phobias I am now healed from are;

Wild Boars

Clowns

People raucously laughing

Mustela species (weasels, stoats, ferrets)

Vultures

Dolls in my bedroom

Mirrors

Starting from the first downwards, I will explain what these fears represent to the subconscious.

Wild Boars

To be afraid of wild boars means that you are afraid of stubborn people who you subconsciously realise as a dominant figure in your life or a bully.  A person who is difficult to persuade or calm down;  You are also afraid of other people’s generosity because other people in the past have been generous for ulterior motives, again, usually a bully; in other words you are cautious of what a simple kind gesture might really mean for that person… what are they after?  You are also afraid to be brave in handling difficult people because of accusations or exaggerations in the past when you have tried.  You may also be afraid to come across as rude or greedy, even when you are being modest.

For me the above was absolutely true because I have been bullied and control by countless people my whole life, people who are difficult to talk to in the smallest of ways.  Also in the past when I have dared to stand up to bullies they have often exaggerated my responses to the extent I allowed them to shame me into a corner to be quiet again, making me feel that perhaps my tone was overly aggressive of misread for coming across as physically threatening which worried me.  I was always afraid of coming across as greedy because I was mostly an obese child (not because of my own greed but because of strange rules I had from my mother’s growing up which people don’t understand even to this day nor believe), I was always misread from being a glutton, I was just raised that everyone ate that way, but I was never taught until I moved away about proper portions.

Clowns

When you are afraid of clowns you are afraid that people may be wearing a mask and not being completely honest with you.  Children who were raised in emotional and physical insecurity tend to have a phobia of clowns, because you never really know how to read your abusers as they wear one face for you and another for strangers.  A persons laugh and joviality can unsettle you because like a clown they mask that what is happening is fun, but again with ulterior motives later on they reveal their true forms to you, usually in an aggressive manner.  You may also fear this aspect of your own personality and may not even consider that you have a duel personality, so until you face the fact that you have a split personality of sorts, you may never recover from clown phobia.

For me, all of it is true.  Up until recently I was always in confirmation bias with social witnesses about a person’s behaviour, just to make sure I wasn’t reading them wrong, so they couldn’t become new abusers.  My family often lark around like raucous clowns, making fun of anything and everything they can, especially me when I was around.  The more naïve and quiet you were, the more likely they make you the entertainment for the day!  Often laughing loudly and playing tricks on you and if you were as trusting and submissive as I was, you often fell for their silly jokes and often became the butt of them.  Because I was so badly bullied and suppressed my true nature was never allowed to shine, my true opinions, my true likes and dislikes and I never realised this until a couple of years back that my whole life has been a lie.  I had no clue who I really was, I discovered over 75% of my personality, hobbies, likes and dislikes were not me at all but facsimiles of my mother and various other people.  I had to own up to the fact that temporarily, I may actually have a dual personality syndrome, until I find my inner self and let it grow at least.

People raucously laughing is just like clowns, so has the same meaning, especially for fears against being humiliated publicly of which I was often a victim of.

Weasels, stoats and ferrets

People who are afraid of the above usually are afraid of their inner darkness, their inner dark desires or even afraid of their own temper or assertiveness.  They may also be absolutely terrified of any ramifications of upsetting people and not being completely au fait with their rights.  You may also be afraid of coming across too slow or holding people back.  Actually weasels represent a huge inner strength that can intimidate bullies, but because you are afraid of using it when you need it, the weasel can become your fear rather than your guardian which it is meant to be.  Weasels are actually one of the fundamental personality guardians psychologically and should not be feared, rather embraced.

For me people have always exaggerated how aggressive I am and because of this I had never stamped on conflict nor spoke up for myself until recently.  I always felt that maybe I asked too much from people and perhaps maybe I did speak a little too loudly just then, maybe I am letting these people get to me too much and I am becoming like them?  It used to frighten me. 

Vultures

Symbolise renewal, you are afraid to renew yourself because you are afraid it would be undone or detrimental to yourself, you may also fear death or independence.

For me, I was terrified of making a new me because whenever I had tried in the past (whilst still connected to my toxic relationships) I had often been humiliated out of it and people had shown others who I was iin the past in full view – I am still at a high risk of that, but it no longer bothers me. I found it very hard to renew or redeem myself from anything, because somebody was always ready to show the world all of my past failings, even things that are supposed to be the most private.  The fear of vultures have gone because I made the decision when I opened this blog that I will do all the dirty work of showing my past to the world before anyone else does, so people can see for themselves my transformation and understand any and all of my setbacks fully.  There are always people who want to do me down time and time again, many people are just sitting and waiting to drag me back to where I was and primarily their main motive is their own self-preservation, face and potential monetary gain in the future and boy am I ready for them!

Dolls in my bedroom

People, who have doll phobia have a fear of being watched, observed, stalked, followed and may lack security.

I know from my own experiences that I was closely monitored at all times and when I did get an ounce of freedom my mother had friends practically on every street corner keeping an eye on me and reporting back about me, because every time I went home, my mother could relay like some psychic every tiny detail of my outing and what I did and what I did not do!  She often betrayed herself by the revelations.

Mirrors

I don’t know the true meaning behind this, but it is starting to get a little less though not yet cured – I do know I don’t particularly like mirrors because the person looking at me in the mirror is not the person I see inside my head, the face, the body shape, the hair, everything is completely different to how I believe I look and it shocks and even scares me when I realise how different I really do look!  I have a severe form of body dysmorphia and I have never sought therapy over it, I have had this all my life.  I believe the mirrors are starting to get a little better for me now because I am starting to change my beauty regime to slowly shift myself into what I believe I should look like and I do plan someday to have work done surgically to help me achieve what I think looks like me!

So if you have a phobia, go and research the symbolism or subconscious meaning behind that thing and find out what you are consciously avoiding in your life, so you can help cure yourself of the phobia by understanding it, because once you understand your fear and you work on those aspects of yourself, the fear magically goes away!

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Social media avoidance of the bored

After a long break I am starting to post on my blog again.

I admit I had been avoiding most forms of social media since lockdown began in March because I find it hard to say goodbye or no to certain people within my social media and I was getting burnt out and swamped in the first week, let alone going through the whole haul of lockdown for months on end.

For my own sanities sake I avoided most social media and only went on it occasionally for a few minutes at a time a week. Unsurprisingly during lockdown I was in higher demand than normal primarily because people who often don’t care about me in usual circumstances were so bored with their everyday lives in isolation that they decided that they would think of me and wonder how I am, which is nice but insincere of them and insincerity is a pet hate of mine.  Ordinarily close friends and family there are less than ten people who maintain contact with me, during lockdown, people I hadn’t heard of since primary school had found me and wanted to talk again, even former bullies!  I must admit one or two new contacts startled me because it made me wonder how bored some people I am afraid of could be during lockdown and what they might do or say to me, when there is so much time on their hands to think and remember again.

I have come a long way with my mental health journey to be dragged back down by bored and vicious people, so that is why I became silent and vanished offline until recently.  I understand that we may be going into another full national lockdown at any moment, but I want to continue on my creative journey, so please forgive any lack of socialising in the past.

I have to be a certain amount of selfish for my own minds sake at times.

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Tears prove nothing

I don’t cry any-more because it never proves a point

Tears can fool people into believing any viewpoint

Tears are the enemy of a truce

Because liars use them always to show their false proof

The strongest person alive will use this tactic alone

To prove to others to stand by them, though they lie to you things unknown

Don’t believe in tears alone

I don’t cry for what’s happened to me

I don’t sit there forcing you to believe

If you don’t want to, I don’t care

All I know is, the truth is out there

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You can’t judge a person by their face

A person can be many behind their familiar visage

A person of good will or an evil doer at large

No one knows the truth in them, not everything they know

So when someone who is kind to you, to another it isn’t so

A face can have so many forms, depending on who you are

To one they are a devil from the depths of Hell, to you a wondrous star

So when others try to defame the one you love, always remember this

That love isn’t always truth and kindness and ignorance isn’t bliss

But do not put down the truth-sayer when you hear things that may not feel right

Because you don’t know the blamed one in both their darkness and their light

You can’t tell who someone is, not everyone’s a book

You can’t judge a person by their face; there are things you will overlook

People change in the shades of time, people grow old and wise

Some become more stupid, others will surprise

But just because you love someone, do not be blind to truth

Always listen with an opened mind, a good heart try to accept the truth

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Confessions and rants

I have a couple of horrible confessions to make! 

The reasons why I have not been producing new blog posts, especially during lock-down is because I find it hard to write at all when my son is home from school, because he is very demanding and unforgiving regarding my work.

Another reason is because I moved my computer again, because my old desk broke and I have a new one that is very uncomfortable and it took me ages to get used to typing again at different angles. 

My health has never fully recovered from the ‘supposed’ bronchitis I had at Christmas, which Paul and I suspects was probably one of the UK’s first ever Covid19 cases, because it was particularly bad and is still partly with me.

But ultimately, people have gone crazy during lock-down and I am finding it hard to be active on social media recently – the drama llamas, the ‘I am so much more special than everyone else and suffering more than anyone else in this lock-down fiasco’ attitude, I have virtually lived in lock-down all my life, so I find it very grating!  I am also very frustrated because of lock-down, because most of my life I have been forced into isolation and it has been only for the last five years I have been truly free to do whatever I want, only for fate to take over and decide that I am going into isolation again – the story of my fucking life!

Whoever created me is determined to make sure I don’t have a full and happy social life.

I keep getting the feeling it wants me to reside myself to that and I don’t want to.

Because I knew my posts would be mostly ranting about how hard done by I am regarding the fates, I haven’t posted until now.

Poor excuses I know and I have had writer friends email me on Facebook telling me that this is a prime opportunity for me to post on my blog as there is a wider community ready to read my stuff because of sheer lock-down boredom, I didn’t take the bait, but since lock-down is loosening in the UK and various British social media posts are becoming (if at all possible) a little saner I feel I can go back onto social media without losing my mind too.

But I have to say it – lock-down has been fantastic really, especially in the creative community.  The entertainment community has vastly improved in my opinion, the innovation that lock-down has caused has been amazing.  Also, people of my generation and younger are actually starting to care more about other people and are actually getting off their arses to learn how to fucking cook and sew, which is great and a skill everyone should have, not just because they’re bored!  I mean come on, for thousands of years women have cooked from scratch and made their families clothing, why is it that in the past fifty years it’s been different?  Laziness that’s why!  Don’t you dare attack me for these statement feminists, it’s great to be a feminist and all of that, but you got to know how to bake a fucking cake for Christ’s sake!

You have got to know how to feed and clothe your family if the system falls down – take a leaf from the scout’s book – ‘BE PREPARED’!  What good is it that your nails are nicely manicured and painted and you slag off men – if in the crux of a societal meltdown you’re burning your house down to feed your family and you’re dying of the nuclear winter because your sewing and/or creative skills are non-existent? 

Take a moment to think on that please.  I hope lock-down due to Covid-19 has shown people that nothing is permanent and everything can falter, hugely at any given moment, I think this is a valuable lesson to show people to not divert away from too much traditional housekeeping.  Remember, as a woman you should be proud of your heritage more than men, because ultimately you keep men going by feeding them, clothing them and keeping their families together!  That’s powerful and the feminists I know don’t see the power that women REALLY do have with the traditional aspects of our cultures.  It’s a shame many traditional skills are being lost because of this illusion that to know how to cook and sew means you’re not being valued as an equal member of society, it’s a stupid illusion and needs to fucking change!

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Summer

So very hot and sticky

Unwanted insects at large

Maybe summer isn’t the best season

Maybe it is spring-time that begins in March?

Every year I dread it

Really I do – because I hate the summer, clearly I think it’s poo!

 

 

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How to Activate & Use A Hag Stone

I found a hagstone today under a clump of rye grass in my garden, came at a great moment in time for me too! At a time I wasn’t feeling very safe!

GrannyMoon's Morning Feast

Hag Stone

While walking along the beach we were lucky enough to come across this beautiful Hag Stone. Some have one large hole through them whole others have several smaller ones. Ours has three, which was perfect for us as that day we had our youngest daughter with us so it felt as if it was a gift for all of us. We weren’t looking for one intentionally, and often if you are, you will never find one as they tend to find you when the time is right.

Hag Stones have been used for protection, charms, and other forms of magick for generations. You may have heard of them being called Holy stones, Holey stones, Wish stones, Fairy Stones, or Witch Stones. They were often hung on keys, doorways, over beds, or around the neck of a person or their animals (pets and livestock) to protect them from negativity and the…

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Self Isolation Experience

As the world is forced into self-isolation, many aren’t coping, both physically and mentally; but there are some (introverts not included) which to them, it is a way of life; many not by choice or design and I am one of them.

It has taken me a time to write this, because I was not sure what to really say on the matter until now, purely because up until now, I didn’t think much of the world would understand the frustrations and things that I do in self-isolation before this moment in time.  Now I think or rather hope, that I would become crystal clear in what I am about to say and with a depth of understanding from those who are now forced into a similar situation by forces not of their own design too.

The isolation I have been forced into throughout my life by my mother, is entirely different to this pandemic, there was no fatal disease which could have affected me during that time, nor was there any government ruling set about to enforce my mother’s commands, though saying that, to me (at the time I was living with my mother) her word was law and any deviation from that law was harshly punishable.

My life in isolation day to day was like this;

There was no real schedule outside of dinner time, my day to day life was higgledy-piggledy and often turned upside side with the craziest stuff going on most of the time, there was in a word (insecurity), there was no predictability in my day.  The only things I could rely on to be part of my day were, cleaning and eating dinner at 4pm on the dot.  I was taught there was no comfort or security within the home, because nothing would remain the same day to day – in a literal sense.  My mother suffered from OCD which meant she cleaned everything thoroughly and demanded that everyone in the house do her crazy cleaning rituals too with her, with the exception of dad because he worked – even if I went out to work occasionally on the times she allowed me to, it didn’t apply to me.  Cleaning wasn’t so bad, but her obsessions to have a constant supply of household projects were both wasteful and sometimes downright silly.  She would move the furniture around the house a lot, just for the sake of it and often she would end up putting the furniture back in the same way it always is by the end of the day unhappy with her new lay out – sometimes those lay outs would last for weeks, but often it would go back to the same old design.  It wouldn’t be so bad if it was a table now and again, but it was entire rooms being moved in one day!  You was never warned when this would be, sometimes it would have started before I even woke up in the morning, sometimes it would start after dinner and there were even occasions she started it around midnight!

She would also have decorating projects, where she would re-carpet, or laminate a room and expect it to be done in a day maybe two days at most, painting walls was very popular with her, we did this more often than we should have.  Redesigning the garden was another love of hers, constantly moving plants around and then wondering why her favourites die so easily.  She never liked to leave the house more than three times a week herself for shopping or visiting, but would often insist in going out every day even for 20 minutes for walks.  Funnily enough even when we had dogs, the dogs would usually be left behind whilst we, the owners go for a walk without them – which was something that never made sense to me – as a consequence our dogs were usually classed as obese by the vet.

When going for walks, other than the neighbourhood gossipers, mum wouldn’t talk to anyone no matter how friendly they seemed.  Often she couldn’t be bothered with the neighbourhood gossipers and would literally drive to another street within a 3 mile radius and walk around there, so she didn’t have to talk to anyone.  But one or twice she would walk the same places so often, their own local gossipers would come out and talk to her, thinking she was another neighbour from nearby, when that happened, she would avoid the area for several weeks.  My mother never liked me standing with her when she was talk to other people, even when I was an adult, she would often require me to walk away and come back occasionally and she would give me secret hand signals to tell me roughly how long she will tolerate this person and what the conversation might be about.  She had her secret codes to talk to me, so others never knew how she was controlling me and my actions and even my own conversational input.

I was taught this by her aggression after events happened, she would tell me what she did and how I should have reacted and often told me that other people in the world would understand what she did, but because I don’t go out and is active in the world, I haven’t learned these basic social instincts.  I learned through my therapist that what she said was bullshit.

Sometimes mum would catch herself out, if we had a visitor sometimes she would absent-mindedly call me into the room, give me her secret signals which were both hand movement, sitting positions and various snorts which could be mistaken for her clearing her throat but I was taught that was a sign of displeasure and to please steer the conversation for her.  Sometimes people were so used to the idea that when they visited I was the tea maker that if I was called in and mum didn’t say anything to me about the tea or spoke to me at all, that they felt they had to remind mum to prompt me to make more tea for them as obviously, that was the reason she called me in, wasn’t it?  As rude as it may seem, they often did this; most of our visitors were family or rarely long-standing friends and Jehovah Witnesses.

Although we had visitors and talked to neighbours my life was socially isolated in that I was only allowed minimal conversation with them and was often shooed away with mums secret language to me, we would visit one person a week on average, sometimes we would visit more depends on either what mum wanted from them or what the person was going through at the time.  Again, we could be sitting at another person’s house for several hours and during that time I would probably have said less than ten sentences in all of that time by mothers prompt.  It was usual though that she would encourage me as entertainment occasionally, where I was made to play spiritualist as it were.  As I have a clairvoyant talent and I also do various readings, such as tarot and things.  This was the only time I was allowed to talk as much as I liked to whomever I was supposed to be entertaining.  Another thing I was allowed to do was to talk as much as I liked about philosophy, religion and spirituality; but even there, there was a limit to how much I could say and for how long.  Sometimes mum would give me permission to mock her, be cheeky to her to liven things up and make it seem like I had a personality of sorts.

It all may seem very strange to those who have had a normal life and upbringing, but to me at the time, I thought it was normal stuff, because my mum would often tell me, that this is how the world is.  Everything is finite, there is a finite way about people that as someone who is not worldly, doesn’t understand and that is why, when I socialised independently I got myself into embarrassing situations because I misread the person.  Often I reacted to other people based on how my mother interacted with me and the other person, obviously being unaware totally misread me or felt I had a split personality as I would often drift in and out of conversations quickly, thinking I have displeased them in some way, but no one understood what I was on about and to be honest, they shouldn’t have as it isn’t normal.

My activities also included gardening, I gardened a lot, I would garden a small collection of flowers but most of the florals I wasn’t allowed to touch or even learn about as my parents were possessive of them, as strange as it is, they would not teach me a thing about them at all, not even their names.  My main gardening duties were the fruits and vegetables that my mum wanted for that year, I was also allowed a small area entirely of my own which included herbs and a couple of small tightly controlled trees, which at the time I never knew would have been called a bonsai version – which generally just meant heavily pruned and small in size.  I wasn’t allowed to tell anybody that I did the gardening as much as I did, I was only allowed to mention my designated section, not the other work I did for my parents – that was their glory and they fiercely protected their reputation for being amazing gardeners.  So I had learned from an early age that I had to swallow my pride and see all my hard work as the credit to someone else other than me, I even had to lie for my parents to make them sound amazing and even praise them for the work.  Basically I knew, that I was praising myself but mum was prompt in reminding me when visitors had gone that I was not to feel proud of myself for what they had said, because I would never have done it if it weren’t her wishes for me to do so, so I had no right to take pride in my work because it wasn’t really my work.  I just cared for it for her that is all, the credit will always be hers.

My dad was very sweet, he would occasionally tell people that I did it and taught them whatever about certain things, but mum would often attack dad for it when visitors were home as she felt shown up.

I was taught to cook for my family from the age of seven, everything from full English breakfast, lamb stew to meat and potato pies.  I would cook the main dinner for the house approximately three times a week, sometimes more, but I mostly made lunch which would be anywhere between 11am and 3pm depends.  Come what may, main dinner was always 4pm, except for Sundays and special occasions, where it would then be a 2pm dinner.  Some Sundays I would visit my paternal grandmother and would have to consume two full roast dinners in one day, one with gran around noon and another when we get home to see mum around 6pm, because mum would anticipate we were fed at grans, so would knock Sunday roast dinner back by 2 hours.

My other gran didn’t have a specific day for being visited, because she was a fully mobile and energetic old lady who would quite often visit us and stay the night, or sometimes she would manage to steal me from my mother for the day or for a night at her house; which I loved, despite the very different and contrast environment of her home compared to my mums.  My gran was the total opposite of my mum, not house-proud at all, just saw home as a place to sleep and store stuff she liked.

When I was with my gran, she demanded total independence from me.  I had to be responsible for myself and as she was elderly, I had to help her, which meant going out alone and fetching things for her, walking her dog called Star and giving messages to other relatives around the area as they were all more or less neighbours within 10 streets of each other.  I had to make her tea too and occasionally she felt that if I had a problem with how messy and unclean her house was, then I should deal with it how I see fit – which meant I was housekeeping for two people – my mum and my gran.  But with gran, it was a choice, it wasn’t expected.  At least with gran I got recognition and whenever I finished anything she would comment that I am such a good girl, now how about treating yourself to something from the chippy and getting me something to eat too?

I liked it when gran stole me from mum, because sometimes it would be for a few days at a time and gran never liked staying indoors for long.  She was an early riser and out the door within half an hour of waking up, going to random places, visiting other relatives on a whim, going to car boot sales and whatever, wherever, anywhere within a 4 hour car drive one way, was doable in a day!  Life was an adventure with this gran.  Where my mother was obsessed with not going out much unless necessary and cleaning and decorating her house, my gran (her mother) was obsessed with going out, living day to day and avoiding housework full stop!

I think my gran had such a carefree attitude to life because she nearly died on several occasions throughout her life, she was born with a heart condition, lucky to live, had her first open heart surgery when she was 14 and has a new operation approximately every 2yrs throughout her whole life, more heart attacks and deep vein thrombosis than you could count along with haemophilia because of warfarin use.  To say my gran was a very lucky person is an understatement!  This includes finances too, she wasn’t rich, but she was never put in a situation of being too needy as she had the luck of the devil as she calls it.  At her direst she would often feel it is time to go bingo-ing and would often win big prizes, sometimes she didn’t even have to leave the house, as she often did government bonds and would get letters proclaiming big prizes, once for 20k!  I was one of the 5 grandchildren gran offered to take to Florida’s Disneyland but mum wouldn’t let me go, so she chose someone else, gran was angry about that as I was more into Disney than the other gran kids.  But what made gran more pissed off was the fact that mum put it about the family that she never even asked me!  Mum often lied, but was rarely caught out.

It is hard to stomach hearing someone slag off at every opportunity someone you know to be almost super hero like in quality to you, always spilling nasties out about them to someone who doesn’t know them.  Mum absolutely hated my gran, but only tolerated her because of a promise she gave to my grandad on his death bed, when grandad begged mum to look after my gran for him.  Grandad knew the hatred between gran and mum, mum never forgave grandad for putting that on her.  As mum said, if it wasn’t for what he said, she would have abandoned gran the moment he died.

People often asked why tolerated gran mum if there is so much contempt, but mum would never answer them, she used to use me to steer the conversation to something else.  The contempt was plain to everyone, because mum constantly spoke down to my gran and I think gran only tolerated it because of two things, she knew I needed a break from mum occasionally and stayed for me, and secondly, nobody else would tolerate her either as they were too busy.

Sometimes mum would try and stop my relationship with gran for a while, by sending me away to other relatives to live, so our relationship stalled.  Gran caught mum out a couple of times as she would drive all the way from Burnt Oak, North London, to Market Drayton in Shropshire to visit her daughter and to see me, just for the day, which is why mum decided to concentrate more on dads family.

When I wasn’t required for entertainment, cleaning or companionship, my days consisted of playing games on my PlayStation or the internet, writing vampire stories and reading horror books and books on spirituality.

Basically, I was kept too busy to harp on the fact that I was both lonely and stuck indoors most of the time, which I think is a key thing for self-isolators to learn.

As my mum often did, she did a spring clean of the whole house once or twice a week, gardening, if you don’t have a garden do window box or window sill gardening.  Read books, knit, sew, make your own clothes, draw, paint, write something, read magazines, play your with pets, do something with your kids, re-arrange your furniture.  There is always something to blooming do, so do it. 

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Filed under Family and friends, My life

Pendulum says go comics

A pixabay image

I used my pendulum today to ask which piece of writing I should send off to the publishers first.  I asked about the seven vampire novels I have written, about the fantasy story based on leprechauns, the horror based on a demon down a well, the pirate fantasy, the two giant fantasy novels or the comic/graphic novel idea based on a post-apocalyptic world.  Strangely enough after asking these and knowing there was at least four more ideas I wanted to ask about, the pendulum surprised me with the comic/graphic novel.

The one I was least confident about, the pendulum picked.

Such is the way of the world, huh?

Because the pendulum chose this option, I am now expanding the story idea to make more than just one comic, just in case it told the truth that this idea would be successful enough to warrant publication.

Crazy I know, but the pendulum has never let me down before on major life decisions – in fact, when I have ignored the pendulum, I ignored it at great peril and bad things happened.  Best to just stick with what the pendulum says, for safety sake!

This pendulum has also saved me a tremendous amount of time with potentially stupid ideas.  If I have a new idea, I run it with the pendulum and if it doesn’t think it would do anything in the future, I simply don’t write it and sometimes that can be heart breaking, because I think some of those ideas were absolutely wonderful!  But then again, as the writer, I have no right to the opinion of what is going to be great or not – because as the creator of stories and art, it is quite usual that the things you lack confidence in are popular with the world and those you are most proud of are shunned by it – according to my own experience and the experiences of other writer and artists I have known that is.

P.S I have noted that wordpress has snuck in a way to colour in cut and pasted words now, yay!

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Filed under About my work

Spring

So many

Pretty flowers

Return every year

Interesting in colour and patterns, to me are so dear

Never bleak in springtime

Gardens burst in bloom, colouring the world again after winter’s gloom!

 

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