Kirstie Sivapalan
Burning brightly, joyously. Solidly. Creating life-force and essential fire, until it falls - Shadow Only glimmers struggle to stay Reminders of what lies behind The shadow sits, weighty and cold Dense and obstinate, refusing to leave It stifles and suppresses its enemy - Light For a while it wins. All that once shone removed Pain.… Continue reading The eclipse
Sadness is the colour blue. That shade of midnight. When the Sun has gone as deep as it can go and the faintest stars blaze like the strongest suns. Happiness is Yellow. Bright buttercup yellow. Like the swimming costume I wore when I was five playing in our paddling pool keeping cool in the heatwave… Continue reading Sadness is the colour blue
I have decided to have a social media cleanse. One morning this week I found myself scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed and in a moment of clarity realised that I had no conscious clue how I had got there. I stopped, closed the app and went about my chores for the day seemingly productively distracted.… Continue reading Social Re-Construction
I don't want to be right, I want to be heard I don't want to be good, I want to be helpful I don't want to be left, right or centre, I want to raise everyone up I don't want to be angry, I want people to talk to me I don't want all the… Continue reading Wanting
I drew the Queen of Swords this morning. I was feeling sad and, for some reason, full of shame. As I comtemplated the card I started to write this which encompassed the qualities of the Queen of Swords and has some autobiographical qualities... The Queen of Invisibility What life has she had that she faded… Continue reading Visible and vocal
Enough. Enough, haven't you got enough stuff Haven't you filled that gaping hole inside Haven't you stymied that gnawing lust and pride? Enough. Enough, don't you realise you are just not that tough? Haven't you softened just a little bit Haven't you fed all the demons in your deep, dark pit? Enough. Enough, can't you… Continue reading Enough
"I have conversed with the Spiritual Sun, I saw him on Primrose Hill" William Blake It was one of those days today where the clouds are low and almost impenetrable, both at times gloomy and glum. The trees looked more like stone statues than living beings, placed on top of a ground that was hard… Continue reading The Hope of Winter
"The place where words don't work" This powerful line is one of many exquisite literary morsels that I uncovered in Donna Tartt's novel The Goldfinch. This particular phrase, a good hundred pages in, was one I particularly savoured, even with its ironic bitter aftertaste. A place where words don't work. Why would someone who works… Continue reading The place where words don’t work
When I was a child I used to love those paper-folding "chatterboxes". The snip-snapping of the folded paper, the anticipation of what would I would find after I chose a random number or colour, the layers to be unfolded and the final "statement of truth" that would be revealed to me, which depending on who… Continue reading Unfolding
Well here we are and it's exactly a year since the shop opened its doors. To mark the occasion we had a small sale last week with some bubbles and delicious home-made cake made our resident Angel and healer, Loretta McCabe. Looking back over the last year I have learnt so much about making a… Continue reading The First Solar Return of RSL
Writing and M.E. 