Suzanne and I just spontaneously drummed the writers out into their morning of writing – my shoulders are tingling with the heat of the beat 
and the knowing of how simple things like drumming, singing, laughing split open up our creative channel. How simple things like gathering with other creative people, taking up space physically, being gentle with ourselves, coming up for air every hour or so… it isn’t hard, is it?
One participant told us a story about how, as a child, she so desperately wanted to attend a summer art camp called The Purple Pig Farm – she wanted to be with children like her! – and how her father didn’t allow her. "I’ve wanted to find the Purple Pig Farm my whole life and now I have!" she beamed as she looked around the circle. We all need our own Purple Pig Farm – a reflection of our freckled, bejeweled, bemused light. Who is your Purple Pig Farm? Or who and what would make up your perfect Purple Pig Farm? What would you do?
Be sure to read all the comments about ways to let go – sparkling wisdom and thanks Jodie for starting the flow.
P.S. Last night we invited a local psychic Rhonda Flemming to sit in our circle and lead a group meditation in which we all prayed for something for ourselves, our loved ones, and the world, and then meditated to see what we received, for ourselves, other women in the group, or the group itself. My prayer was my father would know how loved he is – and four women came back with guidance about how he does know, how much he loves me, and how at peace he is. It was very, very precious.
Suzanne got the most alarming vision for me – that this art compulsion I’m experiencing is a gift from my father to help me heal the grief of his loss. She saw me in Florence copying a Renaissance painting and doing really good work.
This is rather terrifying.
On another front, my novel is coming alive in me again and warming up to be rewritten. So that both excites me and makes me think "And where will the time come from?"
Oh the creative life!
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3 responses so far ↓
1 Suzie Massey Aug 3, 2006
I love the Purple Pig Farm story…it brings back my own memories and longings. Our family used to frequently drive from Norfolk, Virginia to Washington DC, a four hour drive. Each year, I’d see the signs for Luray Caverns and beg to go. We never made it there. Truly, it was out of the way, never practical, but yet the longing persisted. A few years after I moved to DC, I went to Luray and other local caves. They became a sort of obsession for a while. And still, in the novel I’m writing, a cave figures prominently, and I still love the cool dark quiet, and the constant cave weather.
I want to be drummed into my day! What a thought. I wonder how my days would feel different if I began every day with a little drumming!
2 Photopoppy Aug 3, 2006
Once you find that secret repository of spare hours to insert into your day *grin* Let us know where to find it. Choosing BETWEEN passions is almost harder than choosing between “Should” and Passions.
3 Jodie Niles Aug 3, 2006
Mmmm….sounds absolutely DELICIOUS over there!!! I feel warm tinglies all over! The drumming, the psychic and the visions! So glad I helped to get things flowing….it’s helping me over here, too!
Thanks,Jen. As usual, I am connecting with you and receiving my own messages.