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Silence is sometimes the best answer.

~ Dalai Lama

Art by N.C. Wyeth

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"Everything is symbolism, this is how the Divine beings communicate with us. In making these dreams into reality, we can co-create and become who we are meant to be, healing the earth and ourselves."

Jim Pathfinder Ewing | Artwork by Kathleen Fitzhugh

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“Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you.” - Hafiz of Persia

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Beannacht / Blessing

On the day when

the weight deadens

on your shoulders

and you stumble,

may the clay dance

to balance you.

And when your eyes

freeze behind

the grey window

and the ghost of loss

gets in to you,

may a flock of colours,

indigo, red, green,

and azure blue

come to awaken in you

a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays

in the currach of thought

and a stain of ocean

blackens beneath you,

may there come across the waters

a path of yellow moonlight

to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,

may the clarity of light be yours,

may the fluency of the ocean be yours,

may the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow

wind work these words

of love around you,

an invisible cloak

to mind your life.

~ from Echoes of Memory, by John O'Donohue

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Creative Luminary Illustrator Oliver Jeffers

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S.O.S EMERGENCY!! FLOOD ALERT! STOP SCROLLING, TRIBE!

I coach creatives for a living. Deep dive soul coaching, which is no gentle walk or fluffy 1-2-3 store—bought transformation. It’s hardcore. I tell people it can be brutal, and that once they commit to taking the leap to put their soul #1 in their lives, to expect pushback. It’s almost as if we can guarantee a big test when we declare our intentions and step out from our old way of being into our new vision. Starting a new business. Leaving an old relationship. Choosing to speak our truth and draw boundaries around our worth, our ideas, our decisions? Expect the pushback. The Invisibles wanna know if you’re really real or just kinda real.

Shit just got really real.

I’ve been writing poems since the third grade. I’ve been writing professionally for 20+ years. I’ve been *this close* to releasing a poetry book since 2010. For a long time my followers just smirked when I would mention it. But a few days ago we put significant money down for a print run, created all the files, edited, designed and prepared InDesign files for not one but TWO poetry books. It’s all systems go and AT LAST the first big announcement was Midsummer, June 21. The day the US goes to war, and we wake up this morning to a flash flood that overwhelms the system on our antique painted lady house.

We’ve emptied at least 30 buckets from the shop vac and are not halfway through. Standing water has damaged art, books, furniture, and keepsakes from childhood and family heirlooms no amount of money can buy back. But the real kicker is the loss of the Lost Girls Library —the beginnings of our 501c3 artist outreach where aspiring artists can come take workshops, learn from established artists, and be inspired by the many incredible illustrators, sculptors, designers and painters making a living from their art in “real time.” Silas and I had begun building out the basement (it used to be a veterinary business and was created to welcome folks with its own entrance beneath our living quarters) to house a workshop room, a library, and a lecture room.

It’s all underwater.

At this time I’m not asking for anything but prayers and good vibes. We have no local support. We moved here three years ago after soaring covid real estate prices made our long-term home in Taos, NM untenable.

My community lives online. My family and friends are scattered, and thousands of miles away. We moved out here because it’s in the middle of nowhere and because of that, this lonely old Victorian in a ghost town was in our budget. We figured we’d make community out here, but that hasn’t happened.

I don’t really know what to do but to trust and take one step after another. But I’m more than overwhelmed and even the local handy-persons we know to hire are not answering. It’s just us two and this mess, and a two new babies on the way and our regular day jobs to attend. (Also, that dastardly voice in my head whispers: who are you to care about activist cage-rattling poetry when bombs are being launched, war is threatening and governments are toppling. And then something stands up in my chest and says RALLY CRIES AND RADICAL SUPPORT FOR THE EMPATHS HEART ARE NEEDED MORE THAN EVER!)

Until I can get this sorted, I cannot manage the book launch… we made the announcement yesterday that they are officially available for pre-sale right here https://angisullins.com/shop-3-2/ and yes, of course you can still order them and we would be very excited about it. But… I don’t know how we’re going to pay for the basement AND the printing all at once. We’ve already committed, so the books are coming. I’m just not sure what this means for the basement and, well, life. I just have to trust. It’s what I would tell my coaching clients. I’m being tested. Am I really real in my intent to add my voice to the healing of humanity while we all struggle through the apocalypse? Or am I only kinda sorta real?

I think we all know the answer to that. But for now, I have to go back to the shop vac. I post this because my real needs to be witnessed by your real. Hive mind might have some ideas. For now I’m not going to raise funds, but maybe you know a builder/contractor/helper in the upstate NY area who is available for a big job. You can DM me if you do.

For now you can just bump this post with a comment so the algorithms don’t hide it from all the members of our red tent blanket fort. Or share the post to help with hive mind--maybe someone out there has some thoughts on rebuilding.

I’m posting a new poem I recently wrote about grief. It feels appropriate now. It’s the last poem to go into the Fragile and Fierce book.

I need my community now. I’m just not sure what to ask for.

Sigh.

**************************

grief didn’t knock

she kicked the door

down and made herself

a home inside my chest

i asked her

how long she planned

to stay.

she laughed

and said

“i live here now.”

she sits next to me

at every dinner.

never eats.

only watches.

she steals my sleep,

borrows my breath,

hides my laughter

like a lost key

i’ll never

find again.

some days

she’s a whisper.

others,

a wrecking ball

in a wedding dress.

white.

haunted.

beautiful.

destructive.

i try to fold her

into poems.

into prayer.

into petals.

but she refuses

to become

anything

but

ache.

people say,

“it gets better.”

what they mean is

you get better

at carrying

the loss

without

spilling it

all over

the room.

grief is not

a wound

you wait

to close.

she’s a river

you learn

to cross

every

single

day.

barefoot.

brave.

bleeding.

and still,

i walk.

- © Angi Sullins - from The Fragile and The Fierce book available here: https://angisullins.com/shop-3-2/

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Maya Deren, Meshes of the Afternoon, 1943, film still. ~ Image courtesy Tavia Ito and Anthology Film Archives

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“If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.” ~ Daphne du Maurier

[photo credits unknown]

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When they ask to see your gods your book of prayers show them lines drawn delicately with veins on the underside of a bird's wing tell them you believe in giant sycamores mottled and stark against a winter sky and in nights so frozen stars crack open spilling streams of molten ice to earth and tell them how you drink a holy wind of honeysuckle on a warm spring day and of the softness of your mother who never taught you death was life's reward but who believed in the earth and the sun and a million, million light years of being. ~ 'Catachism for a Witch's Child' by J.L. Stanley

Artwork: Magic by C. Viss

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“I invited Intuition to stay in my house when my roommates went North. I warned her that I am territorial and I keep the herb jars in alphabetical order. Intuition confessed that she has a ‘spotty employment record.’ She was fired from her last job for daydreaming.

When Intuition moved in, she washed all the windows, cleaned out the fireplace, planted fruit trees, and lit purple candles. She doesn’t cook much. She eats beautiful foods, artichokes, avocadoes, persimmons and pomegranates, wild rice with wild mushrooms, chrysanthemum tea. She doesn’t have many possessions. Each thing is special. I wish you could see the way she arranged her treasures on the fireplace mantle. She has a splendid collection of cups, bowls, and baskets.

Well, the herbs are still in alphabetical order, and I can’t complain about how the house looks. Since Intuition moved in, my life has been turned inside out.”

― J. Ruth Gendler, The Book of Qualities

Image: Goddess Gourd - detail | mixed media creation by Raine © Inner Voice Art™

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❤️✨ The Kingfisher, 1886 by Vincent Van Gogh

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"Summer Night at the Shore" by Edvard Munch (1892)

The haunting stillness of a Nordic summer evening.

Oil on canvas, painted during a formative period in Munch’s career — solitude and serenity in the fading light.

🎨 Munch Museum (Munchmuseet), Oslo, Norway.

- Mark Rees

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“If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.”

~ Daphne du Maurier

Image: Isabelle Hubbert as Madame Bovary By Claude Chabrol

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“Stay the course. There are invisible forces at work that can only do their part when you do yours, faithfully, with love and devotion.” ~ Hiro Boga

Photo: AMAMAK Photography consists of Michelle Karpman (as photographer) and Aviva Artzy (as model). Together these two Montrealers have created a wonderful portfolio. Poses by the stunning Aviva.

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I know it’s over, and it never really began, but in my heart it was so real.

— The Smiths

Artwork: The Eternal Flame by Raine © Inner Voice Art

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“Invisible threads are the strongest ties.”

― Friedrich Nietzsche

Image: FindTheGirlsOnTheNegatives - 5 - found by photographer Meagan 'Irene' Abell.