My Mystical Side

I find myself being mystical sometimes. Well, really more than sometimes. I don't know if this is a common thing with artists in general or if certain people are generally drawn to the otherwordly and fantastical.

How is it possible that there aren't any fairies living in here?

I look for fairies among the flowers and in cracks and crevices in the rocks and trees. I listen for the trees to talk and messages in the wind.

I keep crystals and gemstones in hopes of good fortune, health, balance and wisdom. When I am feeling stuck, I sometimes pick up amethyst (my birthstone and favorite) or quartz crystals and look for inspiration. I wonder too if there isn't some way to see into the future with a crystal ball and I think I may have to get myself one just to try.

I hope that I may discover that dragons, unicorns, and phoenix were really real.

A dragon rattle in a nest of stones, crystals and some prayer beads I made.

I put some stock in palmistry and tarot readings. I've never had my palm read, though I have tried interpreting it myself. I had a tarot reading done last year and was amazed at the things she saw in the cards.

I look up the meanings behind the imagery and symbols in my dreams, when I remember them, and try to see how it translates to my waking life.

I think there is truth in karma and I hope I'm not messing up my chances of a good life simply by being myself.

I make a wish at 11:11, though I'm not sure where this one came from or why you are supposed to make a wish.

A tree made of gemstones, my sage bundle I made, and a mandala-esque stone I painted.

I have written hopes and wishes on paper and then thrown them into a fire with the thought that burning the physical form of a wish would more readily carry it into the void and maybe it would be heard more clearly than the mumblings in my head.

Just one of many candles I have burned throughout the years.

I light candles for peace, cleansing and hopes. I burn sage bundles and incense for the same purpose.

I wish on shooting stars and look for angels and spirits in the clouds and Northern Lights.

When I find a feather in nature, on a hike usually, I look up what the colors mean because feathers are messages from the spirits.

Black, white and blue denote change on the horizon.

I find myself talking to myself, but am I really talking to only myself? Is there really that thing called a 'Creative Genius' standing in a corner waiting for me to address it? Or maybe I have a spirit or animal guide.

I hope my sculptures one day might find they have heart and spirit all of their own and come alive. I hope for magic in my life. Real magic. Like the kind you find in Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. I hope I haven't really been passed over to be accepted to Hogwarts. I can't seem to help myself.

To look at me, you wouldn't think I was this mystical. I appear, at least in my mind, I appear to be an average person worrying about everyday things. And I do worry about those every day things. Although I also worry about upsetting the fairies; and what I might see if I look into a crystal ball; and who or what is out there listening to my greatest hopes and dreams and if someday, if I believe enough, they may answer me.