Tag Archives: Inspirational


THE hardest thing sometimes can be….starting. You have your creative idea come to you (love that moment) but then sometimes…THAT’S FRICKEN IT!…for a day or week or month or five.  Those muse-killing mean witches, This, That and Otherthing and their black cat Inertia keep appearing, throwing bats in your face and spraying you with smelly freeze-mist.
There really is no other solution…you have to fight them off or they will turn you into a statue and pigeons will poop on your head for eternity.
I know myself ( I am the Queen of Pro, Crasti and Nation) that settling to task can be easier said, but the feeling of relief once you get past the settling and have jumped the lilly-pad to doing…is one of the best feelings in the world for Creatives…you can breathe again…you are doing what you were born to do.
So many times I have painted something, worked on it for hours or days…then I have grabbed the biggest knarliest black permanent marker I can find and I have scribbled all over it, drawn a beard on a woman, or written ‘crapsh@#$!tmother*&^#’ all over the canvas. Sometimes I have taken the said canvas and put it in ‘The Mortuary’ – a closet for canvasses that died tragically during the creative process and unfortunately what I was creating at the time died too….conveniently…I mean…accidentally….R.I.P Lameo Attempto…
These random acts of defacing always manage to offend, anger and disturb those nearest and dearest to me….said people then try to do ridiculously inappropriate things like break into ‘The Mortuary’ and attempt to bring back the dead, then in the next breath…”How…why would you do thiiiiissss???” they exclaim shocked and wide-eyed. I just stare back cold-heartedly.  Eventually they catch my drift and back away usually whispering “murderer”…or the like.  Yeaah…they dont get it…I mean it’s gorgeous that THEY can see the potential in it, but at some point ‘I’ decided it was….a short-circuiting piece of not-today-thankyou.
It is however important to honour your initial Universe-given idea by supporting it until it is made-manifest…eventually anyway. Again, going back to that moment that the idea first made itself known to you and you were so delighted that it was there on your imaginations doorstep that you let it in and shared a pot of introductory tea with it..then you started dancing with the idea, then it stepped on your toes, so you forgave it but then when it called-in the next day and you gave it tea again… it threw up on your new Balinese mat so you wrestled it to the floor and drew a beard on its face then told it to “GET OUT…before I run at you with scissors!”…
To conclude (yes, I can hear you saying “please conclude Miss Moonsparkle I have toenails to trim”)…just write the first line of the song, brayer across the first thick colour of paint, write the first characters maybe-name and personality quirks, put the music on and gently move your body, sketch the dress, write your recipe…and hey…if your cake tastes like moth-balls…you can always throw it out to the birds…and if the birds won’t eat it….laugh out loud, phone someone and share that funny-as glorious creative moment anyway….
Love you Moonbeams….xxxx…
nanoo nanoo Mr Williams….xxxx and thank you for your Divine Mission…mission complete, but never forgotten.

Soul Windows



Hello Sparkly Hearts!

Mamma Moonsparkle is back just a few day’s on from my last posting to you…


Because firstly I have missed you more than I thought I did (mmmmaw, mmmmaw and big squishy Yeti hugs to you) and also because I have made you some spiritual soup.  Now…be a good moon-child and let me feed you some food-for-thought before you run along and play.xx

Now I am not into the idea of looking back, revisiting the past too often. Remembering loved ones, remembering the good to the glorious times…well sure… Go To The Glow, stay there a while and bask in the memory. Soak your bones in the warm nostalgic waters.  Connect with the past, love it, thank it then….walk on…all-the-while breathing in the Here, breathing out the Now.

As for those day’s and night’s when we discover ourselves smack-bang in the middle of a painful memory, a time in our life that stung…ok so I have an idea on how you can administer your own anti-venom and heal a little.  Now I am no doctor and I am not saying the following prescription is going to cure all your pain, turn your bad memory into a good one and I am not saying that bad memories are indeed bad for you..heck no!  If in your life-time thus far you have mastered the art of turning shit into gold-thread and weaved for yourself a cloak of goodness, then you to me are the ultimate alchemist.  If you have taken off that cloak and put it around the shoulders of another human being in need without that person even asking you to, then you are the ultimate teacher.

A few weeks ago I took a bus into the city.  I was feeling ‘ok’.. I mean I wasn’t a box of fluffy bunnies but I wasn’t as blue as I had been the couple days before.  I got off the bus and proceeded to walk up Queen Street…then I saw her.

She was in her twenties, lost, confused, tired looking.  She was very pretty but her eyes struck me as numb when my gaze met hers for a moment.  She continued to walk alongside me at the same pace, matching my stride with each step. For some reason I didn’t find it perturbing. I could hear her sniffing and softly weeping…”Don’t cry love” I said trying not to cry myself.  “Is that you?” she asked shakily…”Yes”, I said quietly.. ”it’s you”.

We continued walking the line….our timeline between the past and present.  Then we came to a set of lights and stopped at the crossing.  I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. “You need to ‘walk on’ love” I said…”Oh” she whispered…”I will wait for you down the road love ok? I will be there waiting…I promise you ok?”  She sighed hard…”I believe you”.

My heart melted with relief.

“Good girl…you just keep walking ok?”…”Yes…I will just keep walking”.

And with that the traffic light signalled to cross and I watched her merge into the crowd and disappear..

I found a cafe and sat down with a coffee.  I didn’t expect that event in my day. It blew my mind.

I felt….incredible. I remembered that day two decades earlier…that beautiful young woman….how alone and empty and screwed up she felt.

I sipped my coffee….I felt….wisdom….I felt pride.  I felt my Golden Cloak around my shoulders…I felt humbled.

Go for a walk if something hurts Moonbeams…revisit one of your precious selves if that self is still hurting…have the conversation…connect, love and give thanks…then let go.

Go home….find a mirror…look into your eyes….and don’t you turn away until you smile at who you are TODAY…xxx

Doodle me this… Doodle me that


Glitter doodle
Hi Shiny Happy People holding hands,

So above is my latest doodle with a good dose of post-doodle applied be-dazzlement…(Hey!..I’m middle aged and the nights are long ok!?)

She’s kind of Scarlett O’Hara meets Copacabana meets a milliner with a penchant for unidentified fruit-hats.  What the heck IS that?..A steroid-taking pineapple seems to have made a baby with a kumquat/ pheasant in some bio hazardous corner of my imagination.  Moving on now…

To doodle (to me) is a very subconscious act.  No rules. no limits, no pressure.

When you were a tiny child you indeed doodled with that beautiful care-free mind-set… randomly ‘drawing a picture’ is one of our first acts of primal artistic self-expression and ‘our paper’, our cute little piece of cave wall.

Throughout my pre-historic primary school year’s (1976 – 1981), I do recall that doodling was actually encouraged in certain work-books and upon your token topical-project on cardboard.  I even had one awesome teacher who would encourage doodling if we were too tired, too wired, too hot, too cold, too distracted…pretty much every other day! Loved him.  He would always meticulously go through our doodles and marvel and nod, smiling at our individual uncoiled expressions, then he would hang them up with peg’s on The Doodle Line or we could put them in our doodle folder or take them home.  This activity always realigned the flow, calmed fizzy minds, set us free and made the class cohesive once again. Fifteen minutes of…no rules, no limits, no pressure…it worked wonders. And here’s the thing…not one kid didn’t want to do it, or said ‘I don’t know what to draw’….ever.

Years back when phones were fat and clunky and when they rang  ‘Ring Ring!’ instead of ‘My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard’….a message pad and pen would sit dutifully beside the telephone.  Actual messages could be found (eventually) a-midst a plethora of hearts, skulls, butterflies, stars, flowers, stick-men. The residents of the household’s names…full names..styled everywhichway 20 times over and…goodness gracious…snails…my Mother had an obsession with snail infestations.

If I was talking to a chum on the phone about perhaps a student in the class with a B.O issue, I might have doodled a complimentary deodorant stick to go with the…Anti-Stink-Pits…as a product brand name perhaps…?

If I was being forced to thank an elderly relative for a box of birthday handkerchiefs, I might of written…I KNOW YOU ARE OLD…BUT WE USE TISSUES NOW..(box of handkerchiefs being lowered into a grave…RIP…etc etc).

When I found out a boyfriend was two-timing me I remember drawing several furious vacuum cleaners with captions such as…YOU SUCK…ANOTHER ONE EATS MY DUST…VAMPIRES AND VACUUM CLEANERS SUCK..BUT NOT AS MUCH AS YOU DO…..DUST MITES ARE TINY AND SO IS YOUR….

Ahhh…bless…teenage angst and doodling…they need one another…

Adult creatures need to give this doodling thing another whirl…go on..all you need is a pad and a pen basically. Or you could go-to-town with multi-coloured pens and all sorts of alternative snazzy accoutrements…

Doodle with your favourite music on, candles blazing and a glass of wine…(ooooooh…romantic doodling…ooooooh), doodle while watching the TV show that you watch but don’t really watch, talking on the phone (retro), in a cafe, up a tree, at work..if you are stressed, blocked, or if you just need a floaty moment of day-dreaming.

So…scatter forth now my precious Moonbeams…get out of your head..and mindlessly doodle…because like a plate of salad greens and blowing bubbles….it’s good for you.

Love…Mamma Moonsparkle.  Kiss kiss.

One Wednesday Morning…


park bench
Hi beautiful creatures,

A couple weeks ago something extra EXTRA – ordinary happened to me while out walking.  Something so simple and yet sooo profound in its simplicity… that I will never forget it. A minute from my house there is an old church and cemetery…I often cut through this peaceful place on my way to town to get coffee or run errand’s etc.Prior to leaving that morning I was feeling a bit stressy blah-blah, sweating the small-stuff, over-thinking things. Because of this I instantly became more clumsy than usual…I managed to drop and break a plate, step on my dog’s paw, step on my reading spectacles and the winner is….drum-roll please for this one…bite my tongue in the midst of singing in the shower….yup!…I was the epitome of cool on a Wednesday morn!  This all took place over the course of one hour….Oh my stars people!…At this juncture I was working myself into a right old tizzy!  I needed to calm my farm a.s.a.p or I had a feeling that the rest of my day was going to play-out like a Salvador Dali painting overtaken by scissor-holding gorilla’s.I made the decision to drop down into ‘Child’s Pose’.  This Yoga pose works especially well on ‘lullabying’ the mind. It encourages you to ‘let go. It whispers to you ‘Everything’s going to be alright’ in a Bob Marley kind of way. Once you are there just…listen to your breathing…breathe with gentle purpose like a sleeping baby.

With my intentions reset and rewired (thank you yoga and that Glinda the Good Witch side of my very own soul that came to help), I ventured down the road…the sun was out, I was breathing, I was doing my best to move as sure-footed as a Tiger whilst with every six or so steps I would say to myself I AM LOVE… God bless the opportunity to start again in the next precious moment.

I reached the pathway to the cemetery and in the distance I could see an old man sitting on a bench seat next to the church holding onto his walking frame…as I approached, he started to get up, struggling with the process, wobbly…but smiling and keeping his kind eyes focused on mine.

I hurried up “Sir are you ok? Do you need some help with something?” I said steadying his arm. His reply…”Oh no dear I was just getting up to take my hat off to you….to say good-morning…”

I couldnt move. I was stunned by his beauty…I was honored to my core by his intention…

“May I ask your name?’ I said.

“Yes its Ronald” he said as he bent his head forward and with his free arm raised his hat.

Fighting back my happy-tears I said “Ronald you have no idea how you have made my day perfect…..Thank you so very much.”

As I helped him to sit down again…a family approached us…

“Oh there they are…my family..” he said…smiling away again…

“A very good morning to YOU Ronald”…I waved out to the family then left the scene.

As I walked on into town, I let the tear’s fall…well…they were inevitable.

In my entire life I have never experienced a ‘good-morning’ like it.

With his sweet old-worldy gesture he engraved a poem of gold into my heart.

Angels really do move among us…..

xxxx  love and light to you always…Tracey Moonsparkle.