Image by Jason De Caires Taylor Remember all my walkabouts? Well, I have been stopped now for a long time, and standing at the edge of a precipice, staring down into the gaping space of the grandest canyon. Full of the ghost of a wild and torrential river, that, with unapologetic fervor, carved steep cathedral walls, with a momentum so focused and powerful, that there was not the slightest worry as to how the ridiculously wise layers of sediment would paint the canyon.  Echos of a leap of faith so giant, as to invite collaboration, deep, rich seasoning in the kiln--the finishing touches that create the story of touch and vision. The mingling of storm and strata. An invitation to see and re-see. This wild ghost has been calling me from the depths of its very own memories, telling me how very very, very, worthwhile (as in all that ever really mattered when it came down to it), it was to remain steadfast to its creation as it galloped forward toward that moment w

          My first daughter peeking out from the womb. I just love this first picture of her and all the promise  and possibility it holds of a  brand new being! I'm all packed, and even though I have been feeling inklings of labor pains for many months, the time has finally come for the real labor. I am ready. So ready. Joyfully ready and bursting at the seams to get to know this life that lives within me, that is finally ready to be born as the expression of my heart, my soul, and my explorations as a human being. Being a mother of two daughters, I can't very well help but to marry the creative process of birthing our souls, with the metaphor of birthing a human newborn, with all the beauty, uniqueness, and possibility that each one holds. Have I written this before? I don't know, I don't think it matters. It is all part of uncovering more and more of the heart of who we are, and who we are meant to be. Layers and layers to get to the good stuff.