An opportunity to revisit a beautiful seaside town nestled along the Pacific Ocean, why yes of course! Low humidity, stunning views of the big blue expanse with the brilliant punctuation of vibrant bougainvillea planted along the cliffs; I am in all the way. Who living on the east coast in the mid-Atlantic region of the United States in the month of July wouldn’t leap at the chance to be out of the heat and humidity?

We arrived via the 101 and settled into our suite with balcony overlooking the ocean and landscaped gardens. The gorgeous, glorious panoramic views of the Pacific Ocean, surrounding cliffs and mountains demand a seat to view the perfection. Sit down and get comfortable to take it all in. The resounding symphony of surf, sailboats skittering along the horizon and the jeweled hummingbirds buzzing from flower to flower and a balcony seat to witness all this wild and cultivation in one spot. Who could ask for anything more? Well me of course, and while the view outside is pure perfection the interior designer may of forgotten why people come here.

The Pacific Ocean, a colossal body of water and all the life that goes with it and where is the hotel’s plush king size bed placed best to view the sunsets, the moonsets, the sailboats skimming the dazzling blue water punctuated with squadrons of pelicans? No, a designer has placed the bed towards a flat screen television.

I find it amazing that anyone who would book a hotel room with a balcony overlooking the magnificent Pacific Ocean would have any interest in the trivialities of television. What television program can rival the bounteous blue Pacific Ocean, seabirds calling and always, always the possibility of a whale sighting. Whales vs. anything a television station could produce, in any case it just seems ridiculous to consider. Whales always trump anything on four and a half feet of glass box.

There is the lure, the catch while we are immersed in some program geared to sell us all the essentials of modern life, we may miss the chance to see some amazing wildlife. Isn’t nature the real rock star, isn’t she the reason we go to the beach or hike up a mountain or walk a path through an ancient forest? Nature in all her glory right there on the other side of my balcony happening in actual time while behind me is the silent box so important for staying connected to all things society thinks we need to be connected to.

The wonderful thing about Nature is she isn’t selling anything to anyone ever, so we can all sit down and get comfortable because that balcony seat is the best seat in the house for the biggest show in the world and it is called Wildlife. The best type of entertainment is one that you learn something about yourself and the world around us. Yesterday, I learned that a roasted turkey sandwich with tomato, lettuce accented with French brie is only better watching hummingbirds spar for nectar, or geckos taking the sun while avoiding being snatched and eaten themselves.

Life is well, about living and being engaged in the world around us and while it is fine to enjoy television to watch a favorite television program, however we should be able to disengage from the artificial world to engage with the actual world. As of our present visit I haven’t actually seen a whale or the seals known to frequent the area, but I am still watchful and optimistic that I will, but to do so I remain present and alert.

With our next full moon part nine of The Guild Sybella helps Cygnet plan their escape. In our course of constructing a perfect life are we not in some manner designing our own cages? If we are creating our own cage do we also have the key to our freedom as well?

To vacation is to physically vacate one location for another. Why do we take on the expense and risk to travel away from our home, our nest? I suppose for the same reasons that some may hike up a mountain; to see a view of life other than the one we are already living. It can be a dangerous thing, seeing the world from a new perspective for we may begin to question all of our reasons for living as we already do.

Traveling I have found for me opens not just outward vistas but inward ones as well. Some of the greatest traveling experiences I have experienced have been the ones that included the least amount of luggage. Baggage can tie us in the past and not the present or anchor us in such a way that we may be unable to see a different future.

To travel is to quit one location for another and what we bring with us says a lot about where we are going. Many years ago for our first trip to Italy my partner and I left our home, our familiar continent and flew across the Atlantic Ocean. We flew over the Italian Alps to land in a place with different languages and customs with a backpack only slightly larger than what students carry to school for a single day. Imagine living for a fortnight with only as much luggage as what a student carries to school for a single day. How to do it? If it isn’t essential leave it.

I did not learn frugal economy overnight but with years of experience. My first move to the Sunshine State of Florida was with my family and in one vehicle. We each were allowed a single piece of luggage; a small piece of luggage. We were not on vacation but my brothers and I were beginning the autumn semester of school in Cocoa Beach. Thankfully we could attend school in shorts and t-shirts which compress easily into small luggage.

My next move to Florida was by plane with my partner and our toddler-age daughter and that was accomplished with less luggage than what some people take on a golf vacation. We were actually moving away from familiar Huntingdon County Pennsylvania to tropical Orlando Florida to set up a household. As with all my summer vacations leaving Virginia for Pennsylvania I had understood what it was to miss a forgotten item, like an orthodontia retainer, but that is a different story.

We are at times defined by the things we carry with us; our digital baggage may divide us more than actually connect us to those around us. Our clothing lets others know who we are by the iconography on our t-shirts and our baseball caps. For women shoes and handbags say a lot about us; where we shop and what we are willing to buy to declare our favorite brands. We define ourselves by another’s label. After our first trip overseas I became aware how much our clothing declares our nationality for better or worse so that others have a perception of us before we even speak to them. That is an entirely different type of baggage but baggage all the same.

Sometimes we say that a vacation is to get away, but I think a vacation can be an adventure to engage in a different culture or environment, to see the world differently and ourselves as well. Be aware that in our new role as a traveler we might grow in such a way we no longer fit into our old life. Like our favorite summer clothing we outgrew over winter we may have to re-envision ourselves. An average caterpillar lives on just one host plant, but once mature Painted Lady butterflies migrate thousands of miles over many environments to fulfill their journey. Are we to be caterpillars nourished on a single plant or are we to be travelers engaged in a more satisfying life?

Parts VIII of The Guild Cygnet considers the dangers of leaving their prison for the unknown. She recognizes there is more than one kind of courage; the ability to endure their confinement and the audacity to escape from it.

Image created on Strathmore Mixed Media Toned Blue paper with       Caran D’Ache Pablo Pencils and Caran D’Ache Supercolor Soft Aquarelle Pencils.

The word forest has for each of us a realm of possibilities. Hansel and Greta would not be the impactful story it is in another location such as an urban metropolis, it isn’t the witch intending to cook them that is the crux of the story but of their desolation in a wood. The path of bread crumbs is not really a well thought out plan and sure to fail.

Another of the classics Little Red Riding Hood is again set in a wild wood where a little girl must be wary of a big bad wolf intending to eat her. Grandmother’s house is the destination but only a kindly woodsman can bring a happy ending to the story.

Walt Disney did much with the tale of Brothers Grimm’s account in his depiction of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. Inanimate objects such as mirrors and even the trees themselves come alive in the story of an innocent maiden at the mercy of an envious witch queen. Briar Rose, known to Disney’s fans as Sleeping Beauty is a maiden again at the mercy of a jealous and immensely powerful individual. This time it is a wicked fairy that is the villain that twists the wood with dark magic to create a wall of thorns.

The forest is one of the most important supporting players in many of William Shakespeare’s plays as well; what would A Midsummer Night’s Dream be without the forest? Can we imagine Tatiana and Oberon arguing convincingly in a park in an urban center? Could we picture Puck be the devious sprite in a town square? No, is the resounding answer for we need those wild places that haven’t been completely discovered and mapped to imagine that there is in some small corner a little magic left to find.

In our big blue gem of a planet I am always pleased to hear when a new species has been discovered. Whether it be plant or animal I want to believe we haven’t found everything there is to find…that there is still some curious item left in the bottom of the drawer and that the end is not in sight.

I have shared before about the post Revolutionary home my maternal grandparents lived in for all of my childhood and even many years of my adulthood. Their home for a child was a wondrous and dare I say it even a magical place. A visit was something we cherished long after we were back in the hub of a cosmopolitan city.

First there was the food; my grandmother was an excellent baker and cook. Dinner at their home with my grandmother’s homemade bread and real butter spread across it was a meal in its self. Once the meal was complete with dessert of homemade apple pie or peach cobbler (many times these were fruits harvested at our relative’s farms) we pushed back from the table spread with antique china and glasses old but still new to us. Her table was like the heart of a beehive and around that were rooms and rooms of antiques, old books, magazines and other oddities that had survived the generations for us to explore.

In their tiny parlor stood an antique desk of dark and mysterious wood taller than tallest men in our family. On rainy days my grandmother would open the lid and I could pull out the top drawer and there were things that children had found interesting and curious for nearly one hundred years; bits of ribbon with stars and stripes to show patriotism from different wars, old fountain pens, cardboard pennies, small pocket knives and most important paper to draw on and colored pencils.

There were things that I usually played with but the thing that I remember most was I didn’t try to discover everything at once, I wanted to always save something to discover later. For me woods and wild places are like that big antique desk; a repository of adventures yet to come, and something new to discover later.

We are through the spring of 2018 and on the cusp of summer when the days grow long and the nights short. The rains have left our woods lush and green and sometimes as I sit near our flagstone patio and listen to the wood thrush’s flutelike song in the lapis lazuli twilight, I feel that just possibly there may be magic left in the world, or at least in the wild places.

Parts VII of The Guild Silas and Cygnet have found they are not alone in their dungeon. Will these newly discovered inhabitants be friend or foe? Only courage will reveal the truth.

The many rainy days has given me time to draw these images on simple construction paper with wax and graphite pencils, much like I would have done at my grandmother’s home.

Tonight if the skies are willing we may view our beautiful May full moon. Be it over the ocean, a lake or in a quiet wood take a moment to listen to a soliloquy by nature and untouched by the commotion of society.

April finishes with our fifth full moon of 2018. Five full moons equals five more chances to see our world in a light other than an artificially created one. Our computers, our televisions, and even our cellular phones are artificially created by human beings. When a bird creates a nest for its eggs it uses elements from nature. Twigs, leaves, stems and even mud are all incorporated into the architecture of their home. If we look at the label of a garment natural fibers are always more desirous than artificial or fake. Humans it seems want the real until the artificial seems better.

Letters were how we use to communicate with our friends and family before email and social media. Letters written on paper extracted from wood pulp with ink derived from plants and carbon or lampblack. If we look at the civilizations of the ancient world that recorded their business and social correspondence via plant fibers and we can see them clearly through the span of the centuries. Their words are not lost and their emotions carry them forth to a new population of people.

We read the sonnets of William Shakespeare and his words are conveyed to our heart and minds as if they were spoken to us alone. We can imagine the bard at his desk quill pen in hand a sheath of handmade papers to record his theatrical plays, sonnets and even letters to friends. Now try to see him with an electronic tablet doing the same type of work.

I firmly believe in the little bits of magic in the world and I do not think the eternal muses that have guided artists and writers throughout human history will be revealed via a box of light and a pad of letter keys… it just doesn’t seem possible. Art and writing are an organic activity and it may be conveyed to the world through the internet but it is fundamentally grounded in an organic creation; us.

We forget that through all of our grooming and polishing we are an organic creature, a real live breathing entity that relies on a mini computer in our palm to be our calendar, and our town crier. We may install apps to keep us on schedule, properly fed and even to screen our activity on the said device.

I love watching films set in time periods before the creation of the telephone because it is interesting to me to see how humans’ problem solved before they had that technology. As helpful as all the modern gear is it does present a lot of noise, a lot of chatter and that is extremely distracting. I think of Boris Karloff’s voice in Dr. Seuss’s How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Noise was his enemy only once he understood the noise he joined right in. Who would we be if we were transported back to a Roman Coliseum to watch humans pitted against each other? Would we become part of that crowd and join in the cheering? Or would we try to slink away into the shadows and hope not to be noticed?

Humans for all our advancements are an organic creature and we look to others similar to us to find unity and purpose in our world. We don’t want to be alone and yet we want to be special so we join clubs and organizations to feel we have power. Our phones make us feel connected and involved with our community. The blind of our contemporary world is that we go with the flow. We don’t want to be a stick in the mud, but technology is a slippery slope and we must be careful how enthusiastic we are to the new, new, new.

I doubt the lions in the Roman Coliseum were any happier with their accommodations than the humans forced to participate in life or death combat just so the crowds would be entertained and pacified. A quote from Alcaeus from ancient times reveals, “Wine is a peephole on a man.” What does our choice of entertainment and activities expose about us. Is that how we wish to be seen and to be remembered? Can we choose to peel back the artificial to become more organic, more natural? Are we our own masters or is society secretly guiding our path? And is that the path we would choose to be on?

These are question I ask, but perhaps you have your own questions. I find getting away from the keypad and picking up a pencil and a blank sheet of paper is sometimes the clearest choice. Every site on the web is fraught with advertisements from the ridiculous to the obscene and a blank sheet of paper is like freshly fallen snow, only you will know where the path will lead.

Part VI The Guild: Cygnus looks into a secret cavern that was painted by her father to reveal the world above to his children and to the other prisoners of the Guild.

Images were created with Caran D’Ache Pablo Pencils and Sennelier watercolors to produce a batik effect.

Every year at the beginning of the school year we would be required to purchase supplies for our art kit. In those kits were many things, but one purchase we were to always have available and yet we were never instructed on the material was pastels. We were not taught the difference between soft pastels or oil pastels, and yet there in my art case was a box of pastels; oil pastels. When I tried my novice hand with them over summer break I was thoroughly disappointed and discouraged at the waste of a sheet of my Grumbacher tablet. I began to well, hate even the word: Pastels. Who even did anything with these messy, unresponsive sticks? I was young and it almost brings tears to my eyes when I consider how very naïve I was to this medium and to art as a whole.

I am an adult now and I don’t want to sound as if I am bragging but for the individual who finally achieves the ability to own a luxury motor vehicle is probably how I feel about my opportunities to visit legendary art museums. I have been able to visit and to stand in front of, close enough to touch but never would ten paintings by Leonardo da Vinci. That may not sound impressive but in the entire western hemisphere there is exactly one painting by that particular artist; The portrait of Ginevra Benci at the National Gallery in Washington D.C.

Having visited many museums in France, Italy and England, what I learn about art is small beside what I learn about myself; I love pastels. In the hands of an accomplished technician they are to paper what frosting is to cake. Time and time again visiting a prestigious museum to see world renowned paintings such as Leonardo da Vinci’s Madonna of the Rocks at the National Gallery in London England, I had the chance to see the cartoon of The Virgin with Saint Anne and Saint John drawn with charcoal and white chalk. As thrilled as I was to see the very mysterious and unfinished Madonna of the Rocks, it was with sheer wonder I viewed this cartoon. First, let me say the word cartoon has been diminished to something we read in the Sunday paper. This work of art is enormous and astonishing in the scope and dimension. I was transported not to London but as a fly on the wall to a studio in Florence Italy where the master drew those lines and blended with his very hands. Pastels, and even chalk and charcoal are a sport for the fingers, a get your hands dirty experience. The dilemma for me is Leonardo da Vinci’s paintings are so superb, so elegant, that it is nearly impossible to imagine how to begin such a masterpiece. His cartoon in the National Gallery is like a spy glass to the past.

Pastels are the most subtle of works and like the notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci the closest we shall ever get to see the muse that whispered in the ear of the artist. In every museum I have ever visited there is of course that art that draws the crowds, the ones that are found on postcards, and stationery in the gift shop; however what about the artwork that isn’t so famous? Those are the ones that stand quietly on the edge of our vision, waiting to be seen, waiting to be heard. We may skim by them quickly missing their ethereal and misty presence, but when we do see them they are perhaps like spying on someone else’s dream like a voyeur. And that I fear is why many of us pass by pastels quickly because they are the rawest and most personal of works. I am always amazed at the courage of artists to reveal that inner portion of themselves; to hold it up for the world to see and judge.

If there be artists there will always be the critic and yet I wonder about our Stone Age ancestors and the motivation behind their cave art. There in the dark a dish of lit marrow fat to light their way they experimented with simple raw pigments to create the divine that would outlive their culture, their language, and even the names of their tribes. My summers in McConnellstown, Pennsylvania were punctuated not with just the present but the very ancient. Crooked Creek swept by the local quarry and scallop shell fossils were a frequent find. We used the red and ochre colored pebbles we found in the creek to draw on the road, and even to draw on the concrete walls under the bridge that crossed Crooked Creek. Standing in the water up to our knees we didn’t just look for bait to fish with but red and yellow pebbles to draw with as well.

Now when I see pastels displayed in museums I don’t just see the immediate work but the lineage of the media and that ghost of a muse that made them believe in the impossible. My full moon posts are about discovery and none more so than my love of pastels. It is the ultimate irony that this very medium I actually despised has become what I yearn to explore more and more. Imagine a cat learning to love to swim with dogs and you might have an understanding in how far I have come. Of course a visit to an art museum isn’t just about what you see, but what you feel as well.

Part V of The Guild we find Cygnus ready to explore the dusky caves of their prison to identify the lost muse that channels her words into their dreams. Chiaroscuro; the light and dark interplay not just through art but in our lives as well. The bright full moon is best viewed at night with a clear indigo sky. The most recent Nor’easter left us without power for a few days and the gilded candlesticks and picture frames in our home that seem so loud in bright sunlight almost appeared luminescent in candlelight. Sometimes to see clearly we do not need more light, but the inky dark to see what shines forth.

My Angel pastel drawing was done with Faber-Castell Pitt Pastel pencils and accented with Sennelier iridescent soft pastels.

On March 31^st our second full moon this month arrives, a blue moon as it were. We have all heard or said, “Only in a blue moon will…”    Well here it is a blue moon shining down on us. Our chance to reexamine our choices for anything from the color of our hair, our leisure pursuits and even to what it is we want to achieve in our days. A blue moon isn’t necessarily blue in color but in its rarity like a true blue diamond. Treat your days and nights like they are gems and you will spend them carefully on the pastimes that really, really matter.

My partner and I have decided to market our home and so all my tubes of paint and canvases have been packed away for the move. I am an artist to my core and so when I considered what would be handy and compact I nostalgically thought of those little metal tins of watercolors my mother taught us the fundamentals of painting. It seemed such an easy option when I first considered it; however those days of finding a little tin of paint at the local art supply store is long gone.

I searched and researched to find a quality little tin of paints I could easily take to the beach and capture the wildlife and dazzling turquoise water of the Gulf of Mexico. What I purchased on my last venture to the Blick store in Philadelphia was a smart little travel case of watercolors in half pans made in France by Sennelier. I liked it so much and the honey based colors are so much more vibrant than my other watercolors that they almost seem as brilliant as acrylics. I decided to invest in the tin of 48 half pans. A very beautiful and smart tin arrived at my home in January and I naively thought of all those crisp and bright winter days perfect for relearning working with paint in pans.

Well that was several weeks ago and as we have all experienced the weather together we know there has been precious few bright sunlit days and those I fear were used prepping our house for the future move. When there was a free afternoon the light was weak at best and so I looked at my other art media that has lain dormant in my re-acquaintance with painting.

Pencils are an item we all learned to master with our early school days of writing our ABC’s. We would travel from our home in Virginia to visit our family in Pennsylvania (a six hour road trip one way) and colored pencils were a great way to pass the time. Colored pencils are an easy introduction to art in our primary years, but needn’t be left there. There are several companies that produce a lovely product one may stay with colored pencils entirely.

Pencils were something that I enjoyed drawing on black paper because then the jewel tones really shine out like satin embroidery on black velvet. I think they are the perfect distraction from the lack of sunshine because they are all the more gorgeous on a dark and dreary afternoon. To be perfectly honest I am drawn to the dark and mysterious in literature and in art as well. My teenage rainy summer afternoons were spent with the writings of Edgar Allan Poe and the wood block prints of Albrecht Durer are something I still go to for inspiration. Gustav Klimt however, I believe mixed the dark with a gilded light better than any other artist I can think of and it is to his masterpieces I thought of when I pulled my pencils into service.

Rain may fall and even turn to ice but the bulbs we planted are all starting to peek up out of the soil. The bold and brave little crocus has the very first blooms of the season and they were my inspiration in nature to the Earth waking to the cold and gray spring.

March 2^nd is our next full moon we may enjoy the cool moonlight over our still sleeping landscape and I reveal the next installment of The Guild. In her prison Cygnus may find inspiration from a long forgotten muse; what inspires you in these days of rain and clouds?

My drawing was drawn with Faber Castell Polychromos pencils purchased at Blick in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Pencils are available in tins or individually in open stock. CARAN d’ACHE Swiss made Supracolor II Soft Gold pencil provided the gold accents and their Luminance Light Malachite Green pencil added to the blue-green highlights.

If the weather makes you feel as if the sun is a distant memory than why not reacquaint yourself with art. It can be as simple as a box of colored pencils and a blank tablet from the grocery store. We enjoyed that quiet time after lunch in kindergarten, a big blank sheet of paper before us we could map our own secret country. The more we are responsible for doesn’t lessen our longing for a little quiet time; it only enforces our need for it. If a spa day isn’t in your budget, or a tropical vacation; art might be an easy therapy because that blank sheet of paper in front of you is yours entirely and we’re not likely to have that much seclusion on any sunny beach. Rainbows and unicorns are always welcome.

Say the word cold in June, July or the dog days of August and we all smile in anticipation of ice cream. In the thick of January we all know what cold means and quite frankly most of us want warm; as in hot chocolate to warm us up, and a sunny window for our pets. A nice warm seat in front of the fireplace is what we wish for while we navigate the treacherous ice at the grocery store parking lot to restock our supplies before the next invasion of snow.

In January Summer is the most beautiful word to keep tucked away as a secret weapon when the desire for seconds from the pasta bowl call you back. As brutal as that forty mile an hour wind screams by us in a temperature of ten degrees eventually we are going to see the thermometer rise to 95 degrees and we will to want to fit in to our shorts and sandals. So summer is in my inner arsenal during extreme cold weather; Summer.

Summer seems such a long way off in January and in July no matter how hot it is few of us would wish away the season. When cabin fever sets in that is an excellent time to thin out our closets and garages. Excess baggage comes in the physical kind and even the mental baggage we need to let go of. Many of us set out to remove bad habits with New Year’s resolutions but what about that repository of unwanted mental stress.

It is too cold to walk away our doldrums and retail therapy can be as bad as stress eating. Where to go when the weather is more than unpleasant? My choice is a museum and particularly an art museum and we have so many in our area it’s easy to do. Last month my partner and I took in a visit at the Barnes Foundation in Philadelphia. There are several galleries to sit and ponder the work of the masters over the centuries. While we are seated gazing at the stunning works of Vincent van Gogh or Pierre-Auguste Renoir or even Hieronymus Bosch consider that while they were creating these timeless treasures they were also working through some of the daily stress we all do but without cell phones, polio vaccines, antibiotics and healthcare that may include bloodletting. We as a society have come a long way and it becomes all the more poignant looking at paintings that illustrate corseted women. Those women didn’t have a diet mantra; no they had a whalebone girdle laced up their back to remember to avoid overeating.

Savor the time in the heated galleries viewing masterpieces that have stood the test of time and then when sustenance is needed enjoy a gourmet lunch at The Garden Restaurant at the Barnes foundation. The food is delicious and they have a very nice wine list to compliment their locally sourced menu. If retail therapy is still needed the gift shop has a brilliant selection of books and other things to enjoy at home. Having a souvenir of your visit can make it easier to plan what you want to achieve in the future. William Morris didn’t just leave us beautiful wallpaper he also wrote, “If you want a golden rule that will fit everybody, this is it: Have nothing in your house you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful,” And that I find is an excellent thought to keep in mind when editing our homes.

Tonight we may view our blue moon and also part three of The Guild, my mini graphic novella and while we have the outdoors and nature to fill our vision what would we as individuals become if we had no art but what we created ourselves? Enjoy each day to the fullest including the frosty ones, because they make Summer all the sweeter.

When it comes to journaling my travels I prefer unlined paper because I view lines like a fenced-in yard. To discover I need to see an unbroken horizon which is one of the reasons I also absolutely love the beach.

Last month my partner and I had the opportunity to visit the Salvador Dali Museum in St. Petersburg Florida. For me his surreal landscapes begin and end at the dunes of the beach. Florida is surrounded by hundreds of miles of beaches which lends itself beautifully to the setting of the master surrealist’s dreamscapes.

Living close to the Atlantic Ocean for most of my years the seascape is something that finds its way into many of my dreams and yet for most people the beach is a daytime destination. I believe the best way to really appreciate the sea and sand relationship is by moon and starlight. The moon’s glowing face reflected across the ripple of calm seas is like bread for the soul. While we were visiting a charming little island nestled comfortably in the Gulf of Mexico near the west coast of Florida we rose an hour before dawn to photograph the setting of the full moon.

There was an enchanting quality that the technical world will never capture; the cool sand slipping into our sandals, our flashlight’s beam furtively looking for the vertical pupil of a predatory alligator along the wooded path, and the calls of the sea birds hunting for their breakfast while the osprey and eagle were still sleeping. Were we alone in the dark on the beach? No, for there were others out to enjoy the huge full moon unobstructed by clouds. The beach bathed in the light of the full moon while inching closer and closer to the horizon and seeming to magnify in size all while at the opposite end of the beach the first rays of the sun were rising simultaneously; absolutely magical.

The arrival of the next full moon heralds the second episode of The Guild. Like my protagonist Cygnus we all may feel swept into a living dream of the glow of a full moon. Imagination swells under the freedom of the wide sapphire blue sky contrasted with brilliant points of light and queen of the night court is no other than our Bella Luna. Consider Cygnus who has never witnessed the night sky or the glow of the moon and yet she dreams of its glow leading her through a secret and mysterious hall. What passage opens for us all on New Year’s Day with our first full moon of 2018? Dream only the very best of dreams and may the celestial bodies light our path, a very Happy New Year to you all!

Christmas; according to all the hundreds of films, commercials and even literature we should be home for the holidays’. Why is it so crucial to advertising executives to sell the idea of being in the bosom of our family with beautiful snow falling outside during this time of year?

Let us take time to consider the very first nativity, as in the original nativity of which all our Christmas carols and images are supposedly based on: Mary and Joseph alone in a strange land during the census in Bethlehem. Were there Norfolk pine trees sprayed with glitter to enhance the poignancy of the moment? Was there anyone in this desert environment snuggled in fleece? Huge red poinsettias carpeting the temple; most definitely not, poinsettias like coffee, potatoes and, yes even chocolate are a New World discovery and were not available in the Holy Land.

We as rational individuals should take a moment to consider how we lost control and why this celebration of the birth of a savior has gotten so far from the original event. Commerce, plain and simple; people will be buying gifts to give even if they do not believe Jesus Christ is their personal savior. What are we to do?

The answer my friends is an extremely personal one, but here‘s an idea; next year do the exact opposite of what the advertisements are berating us to do. For example my husband and I one year for Christmas rented an apartment for the holidays in Paris. We did not know anyone there and we did not have a tree to decorate, but what we did have was time in the Cathedral of Notre-Dame during Christmas Eve Mass. The service was in Latin and French and I am not fluent, but I have gone to church on many Christmas Eve’s and I am pretty sure I know what the message was. Was it one of the most memorable experiences I have ever had at Christmas? YES! Would I do it again? YES! As often as retailers try to guilt us in to spending more than we should, commerce is not my religion, nor is the mall my place of worship. To be completely honest I feel closest to our creator on a quiet beach or hiking up a mountain more than I ever will in a manmade structure; however the Cathedral of Notre-Dame is a spectacular achievement of humankind and I felt honored that on one of the most holy days in the Christian calendar the doors were open to little ole me.

If a holiday has become a chore instead of a celebration than we each need to take a step back from being coerced into doing the opposite of what our heart tells us to do. Charity is an excellent way of expressing the love we feel for others at this time of year. Have a wonderful person in your life impossible to buy for? Discover their favorite charity and make a donation in their name. Green is always the right color and generous is always the right size when it comes to giving a gift that will continue to give to others and isn’t that the reason for the season?

When we think of repressive regimes that intrude on our liberties as beings on our planet what in effect happens is it influences our dreams as well. Of all the cultures that have been documented there is usually what we see as a counter culture of rebellion; as in the French Revolution, American Revolution, and even the Spanish Revolution. While these events happened decades or even hundreds of years ago the effects are still felt even today. Eventually I will see the wondrous city of Barcelona on the Mediterranean Sea with my own eyes but in the interim I have enjoyed the extraordinary images of Salvador Dali and unbelievable architecture of Antonio Gaudi via books, museum exhibitions and even documentaries on their individual works.

I am certainly not suggesting individuals imaginations be repressed, but it would seem in some cases it is rebellion that fans the flame of passion in an artist’s heart. If all things were exactly as we liked it and everyone had a mono vision of our society I believe we would be a colossal colony of ants and not human beings. How dull; but very efficient our civilization would be and yet we would lose the innovations of Leonardo di Vinci, and the wonder of Galileo all so we could be well organized and efficient at our productions. And that I think is what we as individuals must ask ourselves; what is our purpose?

Are we to be defined by our purchases and our possessions like the notorious magpie that seeks to adorn their nests with bright objects? Humans when able have gone to extreme ends to define themselves via ink, body piercings, automobiles, posh zip codes and even body augmentation. Why is the question that comes to my mind, will it make the human experience better? Certainly a posh address and luxury car will make the day seem sweeter, but for me many of my days begin with trying to capture and record the imagery and stories I witnessed in my dreams.

Dreams are that magic we strive to achieve or recreate in our waking world what we have only witnessed in our sleep. They are in fact that elusive creature like the mythical white stag of Arthurian legend we try to lasso and bring back to our peers to display as our greatest achievement. In art as in literature I have my personal favorites of those individuals that saw the everyday world that we all do and yet they had a vision of something a little more fabulous and more marvelous as in the golden paintings of Gustav Klimt or the writings of William Shakespeare.

Dreams are something that define us in spite of our modern affiliations. Dreams are an occurrence that science has many explanations for and yet what of those dreams that forecast the actual future? That would seem to touch on the divine; the ability to have a message delivered to us in our sleep by a guide or guardian.

Dreams are the beginning of change for my heroine Cygnus in my chronicle The Guild, introduced here on my website for the very first time and to be serialized with my full moon posts. Every full moon post will have a new installment, culminating in the final episode for December 2018’s final full moon. Here’s to a new year of adventure and revelations about ourselves and our society. Journals are a way of recognizing our own personal evolution and opportunity to advance our goals to a new avenue. Who will you be December 22, 2018?