…flit into my head as I walk the woodland sanctuary, for it is here that I feel able to simply be, unaware of even myself!
I imagine this is the same for most people, for it is in this state of unawareness that the creative mind begins to flow evenly, unstoppable.
It was in walking among the trees yesterday that thoughts began to emerge about writing and where it all began for me in earnest.
It was of course here at Bealtaine Cottage where I found “a room of ones own,” as Virginia Woolf referred to the creative space.
However it’s not just about space, but time also.
Here I have more time to simply be.
My brother Hugh understands the importance of creative space.
Hugh lives a solitary, happy life, in a small cottage without electricity, where he writes poetry and creates from hedgerow wood and excavated Bog Oak.
Although Hugh had never seen any of the images unearthed by Professor Marija Gimbutas, as she carried out her archaeological work in Old Europe, he was moved by the forces around his little cottage to carve this strikingly similar Bird Goddess image into an Ash walking stick for me. Much of the creativity I am immersed in is governed and directed on a deeply magical level by Mother Earth too.
I use the word “magical,” for what I cannot rationally explain.
