Throw your woo woo hats on for a minute as I explain simply and sharply, how Shamanism taught me to respect subtle life. To journey between the worlds takes dedication, preparation and a degree of fearlessness. There are parts beyond the three worlds that make you lose your self, your singularity, where all your beliefs are shattered and the realisation that you are nothing and simultaneously everything, sets you free for as long as you dare to stay.

I’ve dipped my toes here and to go back has proved nearly impossible, it is no easy feat. Body and mind are tools, vehicles and stepping stones to other realms. Permission must be granted, and connections must be nurtured when using the same space as other people, animals, plants and land. I was fortunate enough so spend a brief encounter with a Shaman once. I will not digress too much detail as I like to keep this experience quite close to me, but he chanted, danced, performed his blessings and saw straight in to my soul. I hadn’t even uttered a word and he felt my heart’s reaction to his calling, prompting his next diagnostic performance, he cut through me and fixed me to tears. It took days after that encounter to level out to my basic self and carry on through everydayness, but for that, I now understand how much I don’t know.

The knowledge of the Shamans is ancient, wrought with wisdom and harbours a deep understanding of how each and every one of us contributes and is necessary to the network of subtle connections, operating the universal law of expansion and contraction. Unfortunately, the ancient’s knowledge has been diluted by modern standards and money machines, and their way of the worlds goes, buried with them. So, in my attempt to pay respects to this ancient wisdom, these natural healers and weightless travelers, I managed to meet a few individuals who were willing to organise an event and auction off my watercolour painting of The Shaman amongst a line-up of other talented artists. It was the first time I’d stood on the end of a mic in front of a huge crowd, but seeing my friends in the sea of faces gave me strength to speak about the lost art form, and I was lucky enough to speak with the winning bidder at the end of the event. I know the painting now hangs on a wall of remembrance and appreciation, as the Native Indians were part of her heritage, her ancestors.

I like to sketch out my paintings on paper before I hit the big piece with paint.
It helps me get a feel for how it’s going to look and fix anything
that has mistranslated from my head through my hand. Here’s my sketch for this painting.

** Wisdom in stuff

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