Kirstie Sivapalan
Some days I just want to sit under a tree. This is the Bank Holiday day we always dream of but very rarely see. Powder blue sky, lush green trees at the height of their vibrancy, parks full of string bikinis, string vests, local boys impressing local girls with too-loud music, bare stomachs and alcopops.… Continue reading My Bank Holiday and M.E
Writing practice today comes to you from one of our local pubs. It is one of the hottest days this year and we humans are already out in celebratory force intercepting sought after seats in beer gardens and cafes across London. It looks like this weather took us all by surprise. Although why is a… Continue reading Sun signs
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 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
Today I am angry, not just mildly displeased or irked but gut wrenchingly, blood boilingly, fist clenchingly, teeth grindingly, word spittingly, ear steaminlgy angry and try having all of those things going on whilst your trying to be articulate. So do I have 5 minutes of your time? Will you indulge this tantrum and […] via… Continue reading Reblog: From a fellow M.E warrior. Listen to her roar!
"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
Back in Primrose Hill. My body is still fizzing from the acupuncture treatment. What a curious sensation it is. Pain and pleasure mixed so well together that you cannot distinguish the two. Like the sudden relief from the explosive release of a sneeze which itself often comes with a side of discomfort. That lovely sensation… Continue reading This is YOUR life, live it well
The day after the UK Referendum in our old shop, Unit 1, something magical happened. We suddenly became very busy but not busy with sales, a different kind of busy as people from the local community came in throughout the day seeking friendship and connection, wanting to share the confusion of emotions they were feeling.… Continue reading It takes a (small) village…
This month has been busy. Not that the month before was not, but this is a different kind of busy. An up in the air, juggling, planning, head-scratching busy. Because RSL Collective is changing. After over a year in Queens Parade, Willesden Green I have been blessed to connect with a number of complementary therapists… Continue reading Transformation
Writing and M.E. 