skimming the surface

of our wakening mind
the stone of attention
bounces lifting a little of the water of common threads
and associations and glancing connecting undercurrents
broodings warmings/warnings
of missed points,random glancings
of sin of hitting the insight at just the right amount
of bounce to make forward paths to the love of a
father's intentions encouragements core values goals
Eileen and i discuss our father God
over coffee and milk in the scribbled walls of freedom given
by a caring Holy Spirit and a shared scripture and I think of
the Real Jesus .Is that from a denomination of one or a real word from God
that oner of us or a few of us should know somehow that we are in
concert on another's behalf yet it gets mixed up with mine own
we would have each other know the real forgiving power of not a fantasy but a really reached for believed in not to be rejected but sought after 'protected' in out hearts beleif in on who does and can and is willing to make a difference
is there implied critique in a friend's words?
my thought no longer on eieleen's concersation but upon the blessing of two who care and are there for me to go to in concert of prayer resepcting hoped for changes yst i speak of the drawing gift as the still noticed river of cribble and my not being willing to lie because i would have others have my gift and i their's and i still am trying to convince another that there is no singular gifting but the offer of abundant sharing in developed and enjoyed encouraged and mutual plat do i do we do us as opposed to a them seek our specialness to our father the real jesus being the one that i conjure up and choose instead of their's our's



oh only outside the prayer the hoped for listener that Bob Dylan
refers to as not there to be a store keeper for us but is in fact to be praised
i know they were not his actual words i.e. dylans but that is the fairy godmother god
that i feel he wanted to allude to a prophet of warning a voice of old testiment yet still there in the warnings of Christ


jimmy says both God Jesus and Holy Spirit feed my lambs well i try but not in my authority but in my child like ness and honesty
i.e i pray for a sharing of the concert of seeming skills that are really just developed playfulness through practice with a desire motivation and a joy from the gift of being givenm the breath of life and the playfulness of thought and the tuning into the harmony of helpful sound sytsems of each others hearts ears and hopefulness



so then
today i am not so much spoiled for choice but informed by otpions as i think of billy harrison elly and rose and
then look to the othe children disney blake calder and others who respond with a sort of chord spelling of the human identity with the building blocks of their own ways of drawing the characters that make up a person boy girl man woman and then move them either linear wire or proportion dough

i would go with salt dough or plasticen or have them imagine such as they stir the lines in the swimmine pool of the milky paper surface art is not a business nor a game it is a prayerful reaching to enjoy the forming and reshaping the mind mapping toy of being reflecting upon an persoanlising a relationship with the modelling of possibilities the lego blocks of contact and the pieces falling into place playfully as we rediscover or joy of aesthitics are the vast shed and kitchen a nd garage of bits to rearrnage like musical notes for each othe by squeezing bbbblllp or twanging bennnnd or pushing bump bump bumpety bump to make bread made a starshoip or to fly on lyrics or climb god's trees in an orchard of pie making fruit and bread an dwine making companionship all invieted its a big field and look here come Jeus who says he will not feed us but gives us his body from all arouind us and says you feed them andrew peter or any of us my sheep least of one of these 'me'



so then to piano practice or art lesson or fellowship with little funds in acafe of morsoe newspaper reading sullen ness no please no i choose playfyulness patientce yes but not hospital ward patients

no i went for a walk last night and was glad to motivate myself to do so lord help me to feel your manipulations do they concur with the sprit in me is it me is it you is it us and is it tuned to helpfulness i can only guess blog search and revisit this arit's way hoping it is Jesus way too amen


i will post my son the frog book in tube i will send the lavendar card i will enjoy a hope in my heart of preparation for the lesson for rose harry elli and billly



oh


postofice at nine and a note through john's door then

and a pray and a pratcise of the piano i hope amen




and i will look for the word for today and thae artist way and for hoped for dialogue through the translators of you amen

seven times seven times forgive myself
practice five minutes three times a day says simon

julia says three pages because onlu one and a half and you miss the pay dirt
her healing inteention is consistent with the persistence of prayer and practice and like gods is to keep going not to worry of jesus you are trying to enjoy and be encouraged by a God who loves and genuininely wants to help



this to me then is the 'Real Jesus'

one worth knowing who does love does care and is very misunderstood by our arrogant judgmentalism
the devil wants to fuel our fears Jesu wants us to make fuel of out fears to throw them out and not reciprocate nor forard them but to use the anger to be changed by
this must be the pay dirt
we are given and to give ourselves the humility to enjoy learning because it is there that the tune begins the gift is opened and the hoped shared encouraged received belieived and healing yes


so then i will fuel myself with an egg butty and get dressed and post my package to Bobby and send him ann email now to let him know that i know and care that it is his birthday tomorrow and that i love him.Amen
i will write some more i am giving myself the morning ith god to prepare to teach playfylness this afternoon

i think the farm painting is coming on and i cannot wait to play with it when complete on the computer to lift and transform and improve is playfyulness feel

rivers of insight

my synapses have been blogging since five thirty
when i returned from a pee

prayers food thoughts have been pouring all the time
and will
will self psycho geography
self will transforming affirmation piano to be practice d walking to be done activities of filing fuelling fixing forwarding feeding finding and fiddling about to understand differentiate appreciate fondle affection feel
psycho spiritual real Jesus geography all is God the car needs fuel the bank account needs funds my heart needs courage my life is encouraged by love and kindness we keep going and growing and tired we push through to aestheitc awakeness remembering through prctice and tender baby persitent steps of fiath with parents or remembered affection drawing us on through the altruistic Holy \spirit lead knowledgre that the real Jesus simply is hope


real


not pretend
real
just had an urgent call for one who has to get on and lives under pressure

be gentle amen


So then later morning after piano revision and encouragement and some ealry morning prayer share with good friend


now i in rubins in heswall wifi using on their code

just noticed they have a community talk board

so will put coaching exhibition and guitar posters here

i am drinking warm milk with gingerbread syrup and eating toast
my sons birthday on wednesday love my son




so then my morning pages prompted by the life coaching book by julia cameron entitled the artists way...

my mind was blogging about streams and currents of God's flow from five thirty till i woke


behind me her in heswall is a caribean sort of sound from a mellow sounding girl singer
looking at facebook bob has enjoyed his gig and also built a large lego starship thingy on a hangover
and kappa and co are arriving home from the states
norma has enjoyed being at bob's with izzy pop.
i have invited people i do not completely know to my birthday thinking of jesus and his invites
and those who said they would and wouldn't so invited the street instead
i am yet to meeet me
told my prayer friend the flaty is like someone esles place as if i had gone on holiday change is happening and i am that change
gifts yet to discover
love released yet no on view
put on your sandals simon peter
we are leaving th jail
and how your friends will be surptrised when you arrive more fully alive


mechizadek and chuzzlwick martin dickens rifss on a piano of synchopation

someon is vamping on a piano on  the player now and the lyrics sound as if being spontaneously decided upon
get out and do
make up and mend give away and send
these are my spontaneous words

jack johnson i think it is behind me which i connect to
forrest gump via curios george book and the feather
take a look at both the children s book

i want a load of magazines to collage from am going to ask
a
i also need a new grey bin

think i will ask on facebook now and leave this blog as that for the moment as i am in dee and want to get on with the map for the farm i am doing

i am praying for a busy friend who is caught in the eye of a storm a salmon in a fast flowing river swimming up steream lord i pray into the once and future king of jesus and think of the flick of the fish ichthus that he pulls out the sword of your truth and is real with everyone today many blessings from god

as i held my arms out crucified in my heart ater prayer in the urc you were in me and i was in you and father you loved through em and still do melchizadek is for tommy now as he walks nearer your place in jesu let love be knowkn in tommy's heart now it isfive past ten and the spirit of the chariot owner is passed by superman's cape as one flies another parts the tide and miracles are pouring through chrusts heart first for jesus tears are never a wasted river in god's belssing amen

truth

requires no paradigm shift
though it does require
an uprooting of false models
in the revelation of its own immortality
it is love
it has God's voice
the authority it has is
reconciliation
not opinion but
currency
fluidity acceptance and transforming
implications for you
individually loved
universally appreciated one
me


male female child father mother family village
home maker
let your contents flow
with the truth


impermanent ephemeral
momentary life
questions and answerss are questionable
but let us not enter the vague pseudo science of making it up
no Stephen Hawkins you are surrelist painter not vififiable truth producer
you ask me to follow you no because like a fool you arrive and trust in your conclusions not in the shared harmony of the concert of diverse bigger not crusted
yet you sought to expand the mind of maths
by worm holing back to a favoured position
your own and your friends
string of thought theory
tied up in knots or rather yes and nos
logic gets a ride on its own
wave of 'theory'
just an endless piece of graffiti
pretending to be food for though yet planting no food
no water
no sharing
just another piece of your mind
the peace for my minds turth is a collage of all positions all
instruments with a thred of frequencies with purpose to enjoy sharing caring enabling

yet i can provoke some truths of my own

marriage and football require a change
as do all invitations to dance in harmony with each other
change is tyruth
what do i suggest well lets try this
such harmony of skills and courteousness that football gets redesigned not to be a womman team against a man teram
no reall
babies except of violence there from the goal scoring againt each other oh no nore any ture romance just bitterness jealousy envy and lack of harmony a contest of testosterone test of what certainly not the truth oh no

man and women on both teams and wearing the same coloured shirts both

so is the game over no just begun
the pitch none existent vast here in our homes and in our world

the truth goal we want to score is that of the childrens safety so
they are in the goal
and husbands and wives team as goalies
as kahlil gibran suggests looking outwrd together
no there is no simplification of the truth just parables onmmetaphors expanding into hope form the crowd who are not watching but encouraging both teams endlessly
the finches and the goldfish bowl filters are simply
singing as i notice a crinkly unfoldy sound from an old apple mac awakeneing screen less at first ah i have its button and i am placing hildegard von bingen to play for me and to effect the emerging lyrical river of momentary reality love and our truth
oh jerusalem

wish list core values prayers change visualise dream folder
elvis costello
barabara hepworth
sengai 's hotei
picasso dancing lesson
home outside and in breathing from end to end

I tried to upload sequentia but it proved a little hrd work i want to practice my piano soon
had some more of the porridge with sultanas maple syrup salt water and milk yummy also two fizzy vitamin c tablets

I will now refer to the week's suggestions for the morning pages etc
i have included soem luxury above which she suggested


a have fed the goldfish and switched on the fan heater
and am gazing around me for inspiration and i like my big zizg zag hockney /ahlberg /klee/me picture
of adam and eve me and a lovely girl togethe in a candy strip bed
i have a candy strip blanket on mt piano stool pine chest in the lounge
i love soft gentle colours
they
kiss my eyes as do paul klee chagal paintings

i have lifted down and am holding a lovely light wood giraffe amy gave me
it is simply and beautifully made
it is very klee and very friendly i have stood it near and it is of such a lovely smallness it is not quite as tall as the netbook or perhaps exactly as but the tips of its little hrons fade into th background whilst its little forehead and nose catch the light
it is arthur gee a friendly eye and a reassuring presence seeming interseted but not wanting to interupt
anthropomorphism and the suspension of disbeleife perhaps it can encourage me to write a book for izzy pop about izzy pop the young child detective i hope and beleive i shal write these stories gather clues and let them be written as i will alos now go and practice piano followed by playinh bass and operating the sound system lord god allow it all to go well amen


julia


week 7        what gives us true joy?
                   serious art is born of serious play

when we try to think something up
we are straining for something beyond our grasp
when we get something down there is no strain

unusual for me to be home

feel like i have been through the mill
changes to the flat pictures down rehung differently rearranged furniture and
a piano that elbowed its way into the flat with three football watching gentlemen waiting in the van
to recover have put the bathwater on and have just poached three eggs with two leeks and peppered them ate with two slices of bread will now have a little ice cream and a tiny amount of treacle if i have any

p.s. a little treacle stirred into vanilla ice cream creates wondeful butterscotch ice cream

yum

gentle simpler kindlier

me





i am restored in my hopefulness by that Samaritan stream
of the one who holy spirit lead
brings the scriptures to contemporary life

Whilst I have Hildegard Von Bingen
music performed by sequentoa in the back ground of my thought
it could have bben miles davies or debussey
ethereal aesthetic not i hope anaestthetic
meaningfulness not religiousness is jesus message
not unfortunately though to have any really meaning
christian nor Christian small c or large for the still small egoful and egoless me
is the least of one of these and no to the idea he isn't who he said he was
as his humility point out the least of one of these and say greater things than these shall you do with that mustard seed and the counsellor is here holy spirit fruit of the spirit love unconditional here emmanuel amongst

the spirit of the sovereign lord is upon us
amen

form follows function not only that
smile before joy
 mustard seed before birds roosting
amen

yet holiness is
it is all being all life
in its error it is still holy God breathed
challenging but true





for years your efforts of attention are getting you nowhere then one day a light that is equal to them will flood your soul  simone weil


my heros and why
john mayall
 joni mitchell
chris rea
maurice sendak
janet and allen ahlberg
jesus
van morrison
shakespeare
mozart
the word for today
johns gospel

something to say something to share something to show somtething to bring and share to the stone soup
like the beatles and any one who wites with company inm mind about romance family bring alive seaching laurie lee chagall paul klee concerts for the eye and my own article about parkgate as a plette for the senses for synaesthesi chromoaesthesia

education should not anaesthetise it should aesthetise my son and i are involved in the same slider on the computer that fixes the resolution of the seeing and hearing he is like eductaion anaesthetising comofroting whist art if it is to be more than emporers new clothes and life coaching if it is more than tube vision must expand the awakeness   watch this







so then i sit calmly and focus on the birdsong outside
the gentle stream and subdued hum of the fan heater and the presence of lavender
in the woven freshness of the seeds in their box the case is light and though not transparent nor opaqe it is the little holes that let the sent out between the weave


julia cameron and kappa band agree in my mind with this next from julia

most of us harbour the secret belief that work has to be work and not play
and that anything we really want to do like write dance must be considered frivolous
 and be placed a distant second

no


this

god likes art
that's the part
my parents would ignore
god likes art
and i make art
that's what god likes me for

julia cameron

there is a sadness in me and it does not really go away i am reading affirmations and loving God praying and doing these morning pages and no please to sympathetic thoughts just listen to what i seek to find for it is not poor me this time at least just honesty and i do not believe it just flows from the garbage in garbage out slip stream of education nor daily moans and morrisey and dylan and sad absorded songs yet you can tell i am reviewing it as a possibility no it is rather like the psalmist and jesus own sore ness i want love abundance and must share the hope excitement of possible joy julia is right there are a lot of blocked creatives who are somehow remaining unforgiving of themselves and therefor others for this unconditional love of waking up amazed to be alive and then more and more and more and more amazed and alive is it so sdaness comes from my impatience i will i know play piano and it will be a none performance more a finding little stepping stones little remmebered streams for me to enjoy of the familiarity and to find a few ripples and lines that will in time come together for themselves

it is thesadness of waiting to dance not yet knowing sufficient steps locations reroutings of finance to get me to that floor at least i will afford the piano so my fingers can partner each other in stepping out soem arabesques of sound little freindshipe of mutual fingering as the several souls and liftimes reemerge expressed from memory and emotion pools to surface as newly refreshingly expressed joy of the moment the problem with the word hope it implies waiting and not to be impatient i simply want that holies of new nowness that i got when i drew the following picture and it is interesting that when waiting one day my minds eye saw the photograph of myself as a boy and drew it from memory as i waited to pint portraits of others of their now but my then

any way below the other day a man with little bird watching binocualrs was taking tea at thursaston and i enjoyed his momentariness before flying down to the beach unobserved in his binocualrs  

here is a drawing of a little mouse vole thing the cat brought to babs as a gift one time

this is seeing drawing which is what dr franck shared with me

next is klee born rooting in this case my conjuring a scribble for a repeat pattern for 

swedish children 

the sound outside and the darkness is rain i hear over the choristers on the hum of the goldfics filter as i turned the fan heater off

's clothing

and the next two drawings are of buildings one is based on drawing in york the other a developed doodle from a cardboard fold up i thin i bought at a postcard

bath and piano wait 

did i discover uncover request any luxury i hope so i just remembered that is julias advice

julia cameron is to writing for me what frederick franck is to drawing for me

honest expression of the moment in words seeing is true in both cases

gentle

aspirational
inspirational
all just passing through

less is more
the less we stop it
the more the blessings flow


last night i turned the shabby chic
lavender grasses into pomanders
or little fragrant bowls of grain

i think these woven
lid and box
weaves cost me pennies
and i suspect they are for
steaming rice puddings or some such

any way i noticed how useful
a marriage would be made
by putting the seed inside their little wombs
and creating a femininity bomb
of  scented joy

don;t bury the word in your heart
no
let it root and let it flower and let it flow with seed
let it out

Dad hollowed out milled and turned and lathed to the 'thou'
(thousandth of an inch)
an old piston ring
i think
and made this tobacco
container
it holds the eternity and engagement ring he gave to my mum
restored to me by my daughter
a gift from my divorced wife to her
and what to do then
perhaps have it valued or perhaps fall in love
mmmm


http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0081398/quotes?qt=qt0231264




time for tea and porridge
when i woke up i was astream of gushing thought now i am a little cold so fan heater time
before going to dee i will
iron my tie
and put on a nice suit
 and i will play piano well
andante and jesus son of man's desiring






well will come back when i have my porridge lovely pieces these two no?

Whilst the microwave was buzzing with the salt water milk and porridge and the two efferverscent vitamin c tablets were fizzing and the silent redbush tea bag was listening to the undoiling kettel that served it
my mind for some none associative associative synapse snapping reason of its very own went to the old swimming baths at balliol Road and enjoyed perhaps the echoind space of this cold massive bathroom were i learned to swim and was very small and the water was a mile below the edge of the pool and where i could put my feet in the scooped out slot for the hands of bathers and still only just then mu little head and hands would walk along towardss the deep end occasionally dipping my feet in or i would climb down the vertical steps in their ceramic or was it tube metal ladder?

i used a small glass for the double wammee vit c tablets now for a slurp of tea
the water tastes chemical in the tea but the cup is a gentle forgotten beauty of white blossoms on tea coloures ground with olive gree leaf and stem and tone in the blossom just three softnesses with the white

porridge awatits i will add syrup and remeber to put my mobile phone on to pray within my luxury for the poverty others have  how well we are oh God bless the world of the iillness that only joy and gentility and gratitude and gentle caring gstes shared out

climate change
those worst affected
crops to grow well in dry places
those who face an uncertain future
'when will there be a harvest for the world?'
Lord as dave is moved to share concern and helps me to think feel ponder this porridge with greater reverence salted malted grain with suffcient water
and energy to cook it and to hold the bowl and to
 receive purchase obtain the precious grain
may these shared fleeting feelings bring some wonderful good news and may i somehow proactively love and give birth to prayer and to hope and to jesus love and testify truthfully hopefully to an altruistic samaritan spirit

there will be a harvest and i recall we will be seived and sorted and just like bob dylans song
what good am I?

What Good Am I?

What good am I if I’m like all the rest
If I just turn away, when I see how you’re dressed
If I shut myself off so I can’t hear you cry
What good am I?
What good am I if I know and don’t do
If I see and don’t say, if I look right through you
If I turn a deaf ear to the thunderin’ sky
What good am I?
What good am I while you softly weep
And I hear in my head what you say in your sleep
And I freeze in the moment like the rest who don’t try
What good am I?
What good am I then to others and me
If I’ve had every chance and yet still fail to see
If my hands are tied must I not wonder within
Who tied them and why and where must I have been?
What good am I if I say foolish things
And I laugh in the face of what sorrow brings
And I just turn my back while you silently die
What good am I?

Couldn't get his own performance. I will stop now as I will practice piano
that will be my morning pages fingering the notes instead of the letters.

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?’

m//f

Fleming/Izzy/2

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?’

m/f

Fleming/Izzy/3

‘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 .’

‘No!’

‘Yes!’

‘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

Wow!

m/f

Fleming/Izzy/4

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?

Yes!

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

amen

 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!http://pinterest.com/pin/129126714285755036/

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?