With the changing of the seasons, I have been reminded how all life goes in cycles.  Within each of us, there are seasons to our life.  Old bits of ourselves die and leave in order to make way for new growth.  The death of these bits is necessary.  We simply can’t continue to grow and evolve and have the capacity to hold it all within. 

I spent this fall hiking through the mountains, reveling in the changing colors, rejoicing vivid yellows, oranges, and reds.  I find it ironic that while we embrace these changes in nature, we don’t celebrate the dying of bits of ourselves.  In nature, we know this vivid display is a final hurrah for the year for these trees, and that Spring is assured to come with a new growth, a new cycle.  But within ourselves, we cling to the bits of our old self, sure that if we unfurl our fingers, something better may not come to fill our waiting hands.

I am learning to trust.  To trust that my empty hands, left fallow by the fragment of myself that is now fluttering in the wind, will be filled with a new blooming of myself. 

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A Moon Mystic

For many years, I was negatively affected by a full moon.

Full moon days were spent in friction.

I was annoyed with the world, and everyone in it.

Over time, I’ve become more in tune with the phases of the moon.

The more I tune in, and embrace the energy I feel building,

the more I enjoy full moon days.

The frenetic friction has transformed into a wild excitement.

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I struggle to reason why this change in intention would affect what before felt completely out of my control.

Is it that I am no longer straining against the pull of the moon, but rather welcoming it?

Or is it the intention itself?

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My little guy swinging in the light of the full moon.

The scientific aspect of my mind wants there to be a formula (I’m sure there is somewhere) for why I feel so strongly pulled by the moon.  The moon changes the tides and we are creatures that are made up of 50% (or more) water.  Why wouldn’t the moon affect our bodies?

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The mystic in me wants to eschew the science and keep myself shrouded in the mystery.

And feel the magic as I bask in the light of the full moon and drink my moon tea. Smile

Moon Tea

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This morning

in the gray light of dawn

while snow quietly fell outside the warmth of my home

I gathered some of my favorite herbs – chamomile, lavender, lemon balm, passionflower.


A handful of each placed in a jar, blessed with positive intention.


Tonight when the Harvest Moon rises, I’ll fill the jar with water and set an intention.


And tonight it will bathe in the moonlight,

absorbing the energy the moon has to offer,

grounded by some of my favorite rocks.


Tomorrow morning,

I’ll strain my moon tea and sip throughout the day,

feeling a connectedness to the moon

and my wild nature.

Work in Progress; Spirit Medicine

As I sit outside, skin chilled by the crisp morning air

I take a deep breath, absorbing the energy of the world around me.

I look to my left, seeing the trees. 

A dove appears, wings stretched, backlit by the sun.

Speak love, be love.

A soul at peace, transition made.

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{So far I see a dove, teepee, and dream catcher.}

Solace in Solitude

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A retreat from the busyness of daily life.

The noise, all the noise.

A deep need, desire to retreat from the expectations.

To quiet the voices of everyone around me…

To turn it all down so that I could hear the whisper.

The whisper of my own voice, the whisper of my intuition

which was begging to be heard.

In my silence, I found solace there.

I found peace in the quiet,

a balm to my inflamed soul.

I found comfort in listening.

Finding the sacred of every day.

The whisper of the wind,

the scent of a flower,

God that exists in a sunset.

A knowing of the depth of life

that cannot be articulated.

A Break and an Experiment

Wednesday I posted my 200th post.  This milestone has me reflecting on this space and why I blog.

You see, I started blogging at the same time that I started creating art.  I have never created art without blogging about it.  This has me asking the question – how does blogging impact what I create?  Is my art affected by my goal to post something every day?  Would the value of my art be different if I focused more on how it made me feel vs. what gets comments/likes?  Would my art change if I were to go more introspective?  What would happen if I didn’t feel the need to share every detail?  How would my technique change?  Would it?  What would I do with the extra time it takes me to write and create these posts?  Would I write something different?  Paint more?  Spend more time in stillness?

What would my experiences be like if I weren’t taking pictures to share on this space?  Granted, I love taking pictures… but am I missing part of the experience by trying so hard to capture it?  Am I trying so hard to capture life, that I am missing living it?

I’m at a place right now where my life is very full.  Full in the best of ways – my days are full of connecting with strong, powerful women, being a mama to my curious and spunky little boy, having adventures with my husband, and creating lots of art.  I am embarking on an experiment to see how life changes when I have more time to focus on these things.

SO – I’m taking a break from writing in this space.  I’m going to take one month to see what shifts occur, and how I feel about them.  I’ll still be posting occasionally on Facebook and Instagram.

You can connect with me on Instagram here:


And Facebook here:
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I’ll see you in October!

XOXO,  Carly

A Mixed Media Canvas: Whole

I’m not still lying shattered on the floor…

I stand tall.

Have I “let it all go?”

The experience that broke me?

No, it still exists.

Underneath, deep down inside.

It will always be there.

But my grip is less tight,

it’s pain is less a part of my story.

I would never be in this place without it.

For that, how can I not be grateful?

A place of strength

a place of body wisdom

a place of self-love and nurturing

A place of listening to my intuition

And here, I am whole.





(This angle shows the shimmery (interference) gold paint.)

**This week I’m linking up to Paint Party Friday.

Work in Progress: Collaboration

There is a pattern happening in my house… No canvas is safe from getting pulled down and a layer of gesso slapped on top.  I am starting to look at this as a practice in impermanence.  Nothing lasts forever, why not breathe new life into these canvases that are just sitting in my closet?  I have plenty of pictures and blog posts to document their first phases, along with my feelings at the time.  There was careful love and attention given to each one the first time around.  They have good energy.  Why not move that energy forward a build upon it?  Here’s a look at some of the layers on this canvas’ latest incarnation.

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Here, I got a little helper added to the mix.  I would paint, and then the little one squirted the water.  This particular day, he asked to go into the studio to paint right after he first opened his eyes for the day.  No breakfast, no cartoons yet… he just asked “Can we paint, please?”  When he’s so polite, how can I refuse?

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Now, I’ve run into a problem.  I’ve fallen in love with this layer.  I can’t seem to add anything.  So right now, I’m still sitting with it. Waiting for it to whisper that it’s ready to move forward.


When it’s ready, I’m sure my little guy will be there and waiting with his spray bottle in hand.

En Plein Air on a New Moon

As the sun started to hang low in the sky,

the trees glowed like fire.

The moon whispered, “it’s time”.

It’s time to finish this story you started.

It’s time to bare a little more of your soul.

It’s time to open yourself to a little more healing.

It’s time to know you are whole.