Julie Cameron of The Artist's Way says "as blocked artists, we tend to criticize ourselves mercilessly." It is important to remember that these criticisms are not the truth.
A friend of mine, Aurora Illiana, recently suggested working through The Artist's Way together. So I dug up my book from the shelf and dusted it off. The notes I had jotted in the book remind me of my interaction with it for the first time back in 1999. Another time, and another place, but still me. With the birth of Seraphina Josefine, it is a perfectly synchronistic time to revisit this "course in discovering and recovering your creative self." I am grateful that Aurora Illiana suggested it!
I believe it makes sense to use this blogging dimension to serve as my "morning pages". According to the author Julie Cameron, the morning pages are "an apparently pointless process, strictly stream-of-consciousness". And, well, this just feels like Seraphina Josefine!
As Seraphina, I am always being born, and it feels so satisfying and sensational just to be.
My favorite frequencies to radiate into this world remind me of a time before my birth. They are blue, washing, cooling... healing pools. Swimming naked in the water, and the feeling of immersion in a clear, natural body of liquid, I can drink as I swim. It does not sting my eyes when I dovetail into and under it with them open. And it is exactly body temperature. It is perfectly warm, and perfectly cool all at once. My body, every inch of it, every muscle, each pore of my skin is completely at ease, even as I move. Here I am completely unaffected by gravity's usual authority. It feels definitively, positively refreshing!
There is a filter of supernatural light which descends onto the pool highlighting the water in unimaginable, never-before-seen shades of azure, and tints of indigo. It is soft, gentler than a feather, and flowing. Emerging from the pool I feel trickles of liquid rolling down my skin, and a slightly different temperature to the air. I breathe. I dive back in so that I can feel the water merging with every aspect of my own surface area that I can possibly surrender. I whisk my hands around myself like a propeller, flapping my feet in order to spin and wriggle in continuous circles while giggling. Mmmmmm... Then I dive down, deeper and deeper, until I sense a cooling temperature, and the pressured weight of those water walls surround me, speaking to me of my physical limitations. There, just at that brink, I form myself into a tight 'hugging' ball to experience the surreal nature of stillness in motion. The unique combination of water pressure and my own oxygen-bubble-of-a-self immediately cause ascension, as I and drift slowly, slowly back up to the surface.
I could stay here in this pure, mellifluous, liquid state forever if I did not need to replenish the air in my lungs with new vigor...
There is a well at the bottom of the pool that keeps this water turning over constantly so that it is fresh and clean at all times. But the pool is otherwise completely sheltered from any wind by the dense tropical thicket which surrounds it and protects it. So the water is always soft and still like clear glass. It is by magic, really, that I have even come to find myself in this dreamy pool. I love this pool. This water is my source; my home of homes, where I am left with nothing to complicate me but but my own organic grace. I need this place to balance the flames of fire I inhabit on the outside.