Life seems to have run away from me again. I have been painting again – I needed to take a break from my coursework because I was getting overwhelmed. I have worked a bit more on my Etsy shop and have added digital prints of most of my original paintings. November is fast approaching and I am still working on planning out the tale I will write for National Novel Writing Month. I am so sorry for neglecting this blog recently. It has not been easy, and I promise to try harder to spend more time here.
The world seems to have continued on without me as I sit here. I watch everything move, yet I am unmoving. I go about my days as if by clockwork. I know my duties, I know my routines, and yet I long for something more. I long for something other. I so wish the words would flow through me as they did with The Call of the Sea, that something would come from these thoughts and feelings that boil within my spirit.
I am finding words difficult to write here, for this post. I feel like I have lost my connection to the words, to the images, though I know that this is typical for me. Once I finish a writing a tale, I always have a period of disenchantment, a period of silence within my mind and soul that eats away at me. This is why I fill the gaps between tales with artwork, with coursework, with something to give my thoughts an outlet. I am hoping that this lull in activity will subside come November, but I know that it is a real possibility (as it always is) that it will continue on into the new year. I am ready for whatever my spirit needs of me, I just hope that it is something I can give it.
Sitting under the sky, with the clouds rolling over me, has given me some peace of mind. The storms are still on the horizon, the rain still threatens to drench this desert, but the promise of cooler days and a more ancestral feeling is in the air. I love Autumn. It is a time of inner work for me, a time of ancestor work and of honouring Place. I do not know what I will be doing this Autumn, but I hope to bring some things into my life that have been missing over the last year.
For now, here are some photos from a recent trip to New Mexico. I hope you enjoy them:
This cursed blank page, it taunts me with all of the possibilities, but no words seem to be coming through. Have I lost my connection to the well of inspiration deep within my spirit? Where are the tales that have been begging to be told? Where are the vivid images that flash across my vision? I have been so focused on my courses, perhaps I have dulled my senses to my Muse.
No, I do not believe that. I do, however, think that my immersion in my studies has been because of my lack of inspiration – I need something to fill my mind during this silence, and what better way than to work towards a goal I have had for years? I promise that I have not forgotten about this space, and I will work to post more often.
“The advantage of a bad memory is that one enjoys several times the same good things for the first time.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche
No, I have not forgotten you. Many things have been happening, some of which I am not too comfortable with sharing here, at this moment. Changes are happening, within me and without me – some are for the better, some are seemingly worsening my situation. However, I am handling things with a grace that I have rarely shown in the past. Is it true that, as you age, you get wiser? Where does that wisdom come from, I wonder.
Something I am willing to share at this point is my journey through education. I have chosen to put forth the effort of doing self-paced coursework. I believe I have spoken, briefly, of my Bardic studies – those are still being done. However, I have also added in a few other courses through an online seminary, as well as my own studies of Gaelic, English Composition, Maths, and Life Coaching. If you find yourself interested in reading about my journey, you can follow the link below:
I do promise that I have not forgotten you, my loves. I have just been rather self-absorbed. I hope to get back to normal in the coming weeks, but I cannot make any promises. You are forever in my heart <3
“…if one looks long enough at almost anything, looks with absolute attention at a flower, a stone, the bark of a tree, grass, snow, a cloud, something like revelation takes place. Something is “given,” and perhaps that something is always a reality outside the self. We are aware of God only when we cease to be aware of ourselves, not in the negative sense of denying the self, but in the sense of losing self in admiration and joy.”
– May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude (Open Road Media. 2014)
It is painfully obvious that I have not been active on this blog, for which I apologise. I have been running around – both metaphorically and literally, as well as online and off. My attention has been focused elsewhere, on courses that I am taking to further my learning along this Path, on my children who will be starting school this Wednesday, on my mental health and everything involved with it, and every other little aspect of life.
As of 25 July 2018, The Call of the Sea (previously Aequoris) was finished. On 29 July 2018, I published the novella on Amazon Kindle, and it is currently available for free to Kindle Unlimited subscribers. My head has been swimming in the cool waves of Idir na Farraigí for the last month, and my characters have taken their tale to a place I had not originally intended.
I have fallen in love with the mythology of this family and their island home, and my heart aches to be finished with this tale – however, my heart is also heavy with the experiences and deep emotions that I have written about, and I am finding it difficult to write much of anything, including posts and course papers.
I cannot definitively say whether the underlying, and apparent, themes of my current tale are to blame for my recent downward spiral, or if perhaps it is just life at this moment, but my own dark and cold waters have risen considerably over the last week.
I am one of those authors that always has a writing project ready to work on, primarily because I prefer to write when inspiration strikes, and it isn’t always any single piece – this means that I usually have a few tales started.
I began a very personal tale, one inspired, albeit loosely, by my childhood. It is just as heavy, if not more (due to its personal nature) than The Call of the Sea. I know how cathartic writing is, I advocate for everyone to write through their emotions and through their traumas, but I am terrified of writing this tale.
Perhaps I am not yet ready to face these shadows that have haunted me for so long, or perhaps I am just emotionally drained from my previous writing. For whatever reason, I am at a loss for words and it hurts me deeply that I cannot find them anywhere.
I had intended for this post to be something other than what it has become – however, as with most of my writing, my words often take on a mind of their own. I wanted to talk about absolute attention, and prayer, and other such things but there is so much weighing on my mind right now that it seems impossible to focus.
I will leave you with a quote that has me feeling a bit more human, a bit more me:
“The pale stars were sliding into their places. The whispering of the leaves was almost hushed. All about them it was still and shadowy and sweet. It was that wonderful moment when, for lack of a visible horizon, the not yet darkened world seems infinitely greater—a moment when anything can happen, anything be believed in.”
― Olivia Howard Dunbar, The Shell of Sense
I am inspired by the space between, the quiet moments of contemplation, the beginnings and the endings and everything contained within. My choice of subject comes from a place of intuition and inspiration and a desire to see the things that most people are unable to. I see the unknown as something to be celebrated, not feared; I see both the light in the shadows and the shadows in the light. I’ve struggled with my voice, but I feel that the path I am on now is the correct one – deep emotions, painful issues, darkness and light all painted together into one complex landscape of human interaction and feeling.
All words and images are copyright Victoria Anne Emslie (Victoria Manning). Please do not reproduce, pin, or otherwise copy anything here without first receiving my permission. Thank you