We are literally just like a tree inside, the heart is our tree of life, and its something I just cannot stop drawing.  I started drawing a “heart” before I went to the hospital, it helped me to understand what was going on but then I wanted to draw a happy, supported and nurtured heart, one that thinks, is full of love and is abundant in all ways.

This is my latest offering.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/8853574@N03/6199381484/in/photostream

http://www.flickr.com/photos/8853574@N03/6185980848/in/photostream

Its been awhile since I posted, in fact it was in the early hours of December 8th.  the day a very close and dear freind, my ex husband died,  It was to be only a few hours before I received a call to say to get to the hospital straight away, his vital signs were dropping.   We were with him to the end.  The funeral was yesterday, such a beautiful service where my children and I paid tribute to him in the best way we knew how, and that was to reflect his big laugh, his ability to tell a wonderful story and his very engaging personality.

Although we had gone our separate ways some while ago, whatever it was that connected us all those years ago when I met him at 16, it was still there at the end, guess its true, that love never dies.  Living with Bruce was an amazing roller coaster ride, when the ups were up they flew into the cosmos, when they were down, it plummeted to amazing depths.  Life is more stable now but I am trying to remember all the good times of our earlier life together and the more recent times.  It was only a few short weeks ago we were sitting in the early winter sunshine sharing a coffee and a sandwich and chatting about old times, it bought a smile to both our faces and we laughed together.  Death is so final, it was such a shock and so quick that I am still coming to terms with it.

Watching this incredible sunset last night I realised how beautiful an ending can be, for in a few short hours the sun will rise again, Bruce will rise again on the next part of his journey, I like to think he is travelling back into the cosmos, his souls purpose  now over on this earth and he  will shine down on us, a beautiful star in the heavens

Rest in Peace dear Brucie

yesterday I posted an image of one of the most powerfully beautiful images of the male form.  It belonged to Nureyev.  What took me along that path was researhing old leather panelling.  One of Nureyev’s numerous homes had a room lined out in it, very sumptous interior, exotic, lavish, just like him.  i read his autobiography a couple of years ago, what a man………..

I also came across a docudrama advertised and watched it on iplayer, the relationship between himself and Margot Fonteyn.  Their presence was electric, their passionate romance was clear to see in their dance, their symbiotic moves, like their relationship was as enriching for them as it was to everyone who watched them.   His raw passion, his exotic background, his youth, his strength and determination fired her with a renewed vigour for her dance at a time when she was just about to retire.  Nureyev said about her “At the end of Lac des Cygnes when she left the stage in her great white tutu I would have followed her to the end of the world” and he did.   Margot, twenty years older and already married, their physical relationship eventually struggled and came to an end when margot made the decision to retire and nurse her then invalid husband at their Panama farm. They danced again one more time after this in 1989, when she was 69 and Nureyev 54.  There emotional symbiosis lasted until  she died of cancer at the the age of 72 in 1991.

Nureyev continued to be a  legend in his own lifetime, his tempestous, lavish lifestyle, his amazing vitality and fame continued.  However in the 80′s this began to wain, displeasing audiences with his less than perfect performances.  Aids had probably began to take its toll, he denied it though and wouldn’t admit to having it right up to his death at the age of 56 in 1993 , 2 years after Margot’s death.  Knowing how they lived for each other, no decisions were made without each others approval, he talked to her weekly, paid her medical bills, visited her in Panama,  did he give up his fight for life after her death, could he no longer survive without her?   I wonder?

Sunday, what a fabulous day, Kirsty and Yao came over and we cut paper together all around the table!! Enriching in everyway, the bonus being we made an ocean of flowers together.  Each flower so unique, cut out, folded, crimped ,  moulded and shaped so lovingly, all by hand and with love.  The persepex boxes are going to be full of so much more than flowers! 

For lunch we ate a tasty roast chicken, roast butternut squash and parsnips and courgettes and french beans from Kirsty’s garden, and ended the day by watching an incredible film called MAN ON A WIRE, a guy that against all odds walked on a wire strung between the topmost points of the world trade centres twin towers back in the 70′s.  Amazing footage. 

All in all a really lovely day

Flickr: Your Photostream.

In the summer of 2008 I spent a magical weekend with friends at Glastonbury, Isle of Avalon.

During the weekend I was read this poem, it really touched me,  at that time I had drawn a whole series of sketches, one seemed to illustrate these words perfectly………….   what do you think?  The poem is by Dawna markova, a lady who has single handedly changed the live of so many.  see her blog at http://dawnamarkova.blogspot.com/

I will not die an unlived life.

I will not live in fear of  falling or catching fire.

I choose to inhabit my days,

to allow my living to open me,

to make me less afraid,

more accessible;

to loosen my heart until it becomes a wing,

a torch, a promise.

I choose to risk my significance,

to live so that which came to me as seed

goes to the next as blossom,

and that which came to me as blossom,

goes on as fruit.

by Dawna Markova