Thursday, 1 March 2012

all talking needs must be prayerful

god is bigger than our limited ideas of sensuality sin
emotional baggage psychobabble self talk jokes and
cleverness beyond my naivete and imagined and real
innocence all is flowing through breath electricity
feelings of romance loneleliness companionship breakfast
sunlight the water being seived in the goldfish tank

a text form a friend meet for a walk
i have not been well need to tread carefully for my back
perhaps go tonight to Linghams for poems
want to write a new poem perhaps abourt wanting to
 write a detective story for izzy pop i wanted to give myself a deadline

i am free to set new deadlines and put myself under no pressure below is the scribble of the poeam i would have taken to first thrusday oh well a prayer came in and a text to invite me for a walk
 i have a farm to ma and piano to practice a writing course assignment on hold for more than a year and other things unfinished but much change and compltede assignment habve happened a holiday with my daughter a barcelona painting weight loss walking life coaching stepped into gently slowly reverently morning paghes and writing course recvision porcative deliberate suatained persistent affirmative happy books misrerable newspaper rejection and hope seed for change planting though it costs me
unfinished attempt at a poem about not being able to find the izzy pop story i seek
this rhyme spills form a positive soul that
seeks a rhythm and rhyme
a body to dance
and jive and play
not a momentary romance
i spill my thoughts on every wall
theres simple prayers and tunes
 a neural trance will let you in
come look inside these rooms
i'm coming through
to better times and share with you my thoughts
a life coach to myself always
i turn the morning page
i go for walks
in fresh news boots
and changes spill from me
i gather stones as i advance
and spill the spare ones free
i seive the beech
for storylines
for izzy pop and me
i have a children's writing course
a stub my mind agianinst a block
my toe it smarts and i must remove my sock
the shock of nothing coming from the clues i goal
i want to write for izzy pop my grandchild
only one
she'll be a child detective and i look to her for clues
i see her on our family facebook page
and every photgraphs good news
her hair like tin itn forms a peak and seems just like my own
oh give me words my morning page three pages i do roam
the pebbles have echoes in y soul iplace them on a white wood box
a pattern of their own
the moment comes and drifts away a pianos coming soon another goal for 60 then
is to feel my fingers roll
 tide of notes and hopes and dreams with lyrics you to move
oh i must write my songs and childrens books
and holiday and roam
oh give me patitence love and trust and hear my rambling plea
i'm stumbling into fresh new thoughts and hope you'll write to me

33 million hiv sufferers Lord my friend \dave hedges has just etxt me
answer the prayers that i am part of the flow of
just a little unwell with an achy back and a will to be free to love being alive how i long in my soul for all our mutual freedom creative hopeful with hearts to goals of quality for us all to share
you know i want to write and to think postive beautiful gospelgood news your heart is for the poor and broken hearted ones and you do not want us miserable but hope fuelling proactive not poor me and perhaps instead of a poor them attitude we can flow with some kind of beneficial encouragement and unselfishly there is a virtue trap that refuses joy to be part of the hope we seek oh get rid of the routine misery of accepting these things as okay or right help us to sing a better world into praise of all that is good heal help and have us all involved willlingly bringing what we can to the stone soup story of world poverty and our own despair and pointlessness amen

to remind myself that i have been working on izzy pop i will cut and paste what i have so far knowing that i have a mind to do something much better and therefor not inviting comment nor judgement i am doing theat myself and habve a lovely idea about a book shop owner and izzy s sympathy for his business as heis books get stolen by a school that needs them
probably a psychological childhood memory of when i stole money from my mums purse to get book no this is not a therapy session just an observation please don't turn into freud and analyse me an block me fiurther in self pity neurosis daily mail group gestalt none tharapeutic oh you are on to something now rubbish!

i remener this is a punblic space yet treat it mostly as my own

Izzy Pop's first case
By Jim Fleming
Isobel Poppy was on her own in the bookshop cafe..Grandpa had given her some John Lennon spectacles. She felt cool. Other shoppers were coming in brushing off the snow. Mince pies were being served warmed up. She had claimed a chair with her red scarf and put her gloves on the table whilst she cued up. She felt vulnerable clutching her purse . A  man with the  bulging M&S carrier bag left it by the window at an empty table. She went to join her scarf when it happened.
Don’t jump to conclusions Grandpa always warned her. Watching  another man leaving with the first man’s bag.she said to herself’Oh here goes. What would madame Ramotswe do?’
She quickly ran to the counter –‘sxuse me is that man with you he has your bag?’
Open mouthed  like a fish he left the warm mince pie being served  and turned to make chase.
The lady with her yellow paper crown frowned at Isobel a.Issy said ‘I m sorry but...oh ‘

Returning to the table her own Christmas tea smelled of cloves as carol singers made an angelic chorus at the top of the escalator as the man squeezed through them. Issy dived to the window where the man’s bag had been and noticed an old couple staring at her. The lady grey haired and with pink scarf seemed familiar and seemd to hide behind mobile phone. She seemed very anxious clutching her husband’s arm and pointing at Issy.

Issy watched and could see the thief from the window he seemed to be looking up at her .
Issy turned to the lady who quickly looked away.She felt somehow the thief and the phone were connected.Grandpa had spotted Issy ‘s scarf and gloves and joined them.
She couldn’t pull herself from the steam window put brushed her breath off it. She noticed the man whose bag it was going the wrong way in pursuit. The thief came back in. Issy cringed as he passed and rushed back to clutch grandpa’s arm. The thief  passed the bag to the older man who quickly disappeared as the older lady smiled to herself .The thief changed his jacket for one in the lady gave him .

issy felt  had seen too much and  hugged grandpa . She whispered what had happened .She was so tempted to point. He complemented her quick thinking as they both watched the old lady slip to the loo and return no longer stooping,like an actress now off stage. Issy  thought  that she recognised her.

Grand pa tried to make small talk. ’Did your dad convert the shed for you?’
‘Oh yes’ she drifted into a reverie ‘.Marple loves it.Sits beside me on the tall chair with the cushion. Number 11 Baker Street is now painted on asign outside. I have a big whiteboard for my clues and Dad is making me a James Bond magical bag .’
‘What does it do?’
‘I don’t know , but he is so excited .’
As they spoke dad arrived ‘what are two chatting about?’
He pulled from his big grey coat  a plastic old fashioned duffle bag she could see a purse like her own ,a brush and a Christmas parcel inside.
Dad said ‘pass me your phone’
He sought out an app he had added this morning .
He typed something and said now look at the bag
The contents were now a mask a book by Simenon
And a revolver.
Grandad said ‘ can’t have that!’
Dad said ‘look inside’
As granddad opened it  Izzy  turned to see if the robbers were there. No.Good.Phew.
Grandad reached inside a bag within the bag beyond the apparent contents.
And was about to pull out..
‘NoDon’t give it away let Izzy peep in.’
A camera lay within the second bag and the others contents were just an illusion on the silvered surface of an inner bag
Dad said ‘look at your phone’
 Grandad picture was in her phone
The camera in the bag was sending a message to her phone


Outside it was cold as they rushed to the  Christmas concert.
There in the audience was the old man The music teacher was Miss Brazen the lady who had put on the act The shoes the scarf but not the make up nor the stoop.
Izzy squeezed Grandad’s hand
Its them
Who? Oh! no?
The lights went low and on the stage were the two men.the thief and the man who left his warm mince pie.
One was doing the opening reading
The other was miming
The exposition preface
There beside the stage a mark and spencers bag
Issy thought if only I felt brave I would have a look in it.

The concert was lovely and Issy was surprised to see Grand pa talking to Miss Brazen.i the car heading back to the family christams past various excesses of Christmas lights
Grand pa said how would you like to be like your hero Sherlock ?
How do you mean?
Play violin,
Granddad explained that Miss Brazen had offered her son’e help to teach Issy.
But Granda pa .neither of them had said anything to Dad..So when Christmas was over and miss Brazen sent for Issyshe was ready and would be brave.the man who was her son was the the
One who issy had thad his bag stolen.

He  explained that when sspoken of a thief he had remembered something at home and had not been setting off after him as she had thought.So after a lesson where she learned of rosin and bows and tuning she couldn’t wait to skype granda and the whole family laughed at issy’s wild imagination.
Issy even played a tune that granda enjoyed on the little laptop da hade given him

Iss y would play her Sherlock holmes violin to Mis marple he big blue fluffy cat and spring turned to summer and flowers spread to the detective agency shed door.Not having anything to investigate she felt her little violin was safe in hersealed clever camera bag.One week end her phone suddenly came on as she realised she had left her bag in the cloak room and though obscures by the violin an image appeared on her phone.Strange that they should be in school and what are they dpoing
There were several mand s bags and they were emptying lots of childrn’s booksonto the shelves of the school cupboard.Oh dear mustn’t jump to conclusions.She switched her skype on andyes garndad was there.she did not need to whisper as dad had only made the camcorder a receiver kind .She explained what she thought she was seeing and then held her phne up for garndad

Its no use issy i will just have to take your word for it
Can you tell me what they are saying.

Well they are talking about it serving himright for being so mean
I think they are talking about the bookshop owner
Can you record it.I will try she rooted about on the phone and was frightened of losing the signal.the uncharged phone suddenly died as she reached for the recharge cord.Do you think i should tell dad

Probably better had the cupboard door at school had closed

Da did his best to retrieve the recording but izzy must have switched the camera off in her attempt to record so dad had to just trust her judgement .there was a long phione call to granddad rather than skype just seemed quicker.

Again on Monday miss brazen called for izzy and unfortunately she was a little frightedned and when mis brazen said she had found her violin on the shelf she knew that she had been in the bag
I smy bag alright sorry no bag mentioned it was my son he found it where you ahd played with him
What is the bag like .its a clear plastic duffle bag no not menmtioned i will ask in lost property

When she got home she felt sick at the thought of telling dad she had had the bag stolen by the thieves.Oh don’t worry iss that isn’t all i built in to the bag.i put a tag in its chord so we can track it
Dad picked his laptop up and there was a small map of Nottingham using google and there on the screen was apulsing little light so they honed inoit it was in the bookshop

   so then as to today I will cut and paste Julia to read these words as promised to myself once more

Basic Principles:
1. Creativity is the natural order of life. Life is energy: pure creative energy.
2. There is an underlying, in-dwelling creative force infusing all of life -- including ourselves.
3. When we open ourselves to our creativity, we open ourselves to the creator's creativity within us and our lives.
4. We are, ourselves, creations. And we, in turn, are meant to continue creativity by being creative ourselves.
5. Creativity is God's gift to us. Using our creativity is our gift back to God.
6. The refusal to be creative is self-will and is counter to our true nature.
7. When we open ourselves to exploring our creativity, we open ourselves to God: good orderly direction.
8. As we open our creative channel to the creator, many gentle but powerful changes are to be expected.
9. It is safe to open ourselves up to greater and greater creativity.
10. Our creative dreams and yearnings come from a divine source. As we move toward our dreams, we move toward our divinity.

O Great Creator,

We are gathered together in your name

That we may be of greater service to you

And to our fellows.

We offer ourselves to you as instruments.

We open ourselves to your cereativity in our lives.

We surrender to you our old idea's

We welcome your new and more expansive ideas.

We trust that you will lead us.

We trust that it is safe to follow you.

We know that you created us and that creativity

Is your nature and our own.

We ask you to unfold in our lives

According to your plan, not our low self worth.

Help us to believe that it is not too late

And that we are not too small or too flawed

To be healed~

By you and through each other ~ and made whole.

Help us to love one another,

To nurture each other's unfolding,

To encourage each others growth,

And understand each others fears.

Help us to know we are not alone,

That we are loved and lovable.

Help us to create as an act of worship to you.

~Julia Cameron


 am taking a risk and stepping out of the boat each day i will simply  have to let go and trust God with the finances and the new dust bin i need i ask for your help father i feel so often alone in Eden but i know in my heart that i am not amen             

so i am going to get julia's book and treat thurstaston shared as my artist's date today amen

to become more alive filled and love fuelled joy encouraged light giving and life sharing wonderfulness bestowing

this is the same photograph cropped it is the sun's light through a crystal heart onto a piece of paper
photographed  photoshopped but true showing two blues two yellos and two red s
as Michael Wilcox said in Blue and yellow don't make green
to see these different primaries you have to use the dropper tool in your paint package near the dged of the colours they make take the red from the edge of the orange it is  cadmium red
the yellow similarly is custard cerulean is easy to see the lemon yellow is at the edge of the green and the alizarin crimson near the edge of the violet and the ultramarine near the edge of the violet tooat the top of the band of red rather than the tertiary darkness which cannot be black as it is light itself  nor is it brown which in truth is orange with just a little blue added

 julia suggested natural abundance go find five leaves and five flowers and press them you could use a ton of daily mails and then burn them as fuel later

 some close up scribbles of church farm

 julia also suggested five stones which you can keep in your pocket as loose 'change for the better'

before my walk yesterday i visited staacks and was overwhelmed with the kiss on my eye of the klee like freshness of the collages of  elaine hughes -pure joy!

above is the tie maker i have one of these how cool am i?
below is my son's guitar stand how cool is it ?is he? am I ?
is God for letting me enjoy these things?

 above is a table full of olives bowls i.e bowls of olives and below is the commenced map how cool are these places?

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