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British Columbia, Canada
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The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. ... Albert Einstein

I'm a creative. I don't know how to be anything else. Everything I see, hear, smell is fuel for my muse. I've had several careers, but was never content until I found my niche.

Now, I run a home-based studio, FyreWork Designs where I freelance as a photographer, writer and designer. I wear many hats, but love what I do. I enjoy working in variety of artistic venues: digital alchemy, multi-media as well as mixed media. I often use my photography as a springboard to create fanciful images.

You'll find variety here, complete with comments as the muse sees fit. You've been warned ;-)

Oh, and in case you didn't know ... I'm a cancer survivor. Every day I wake up, I've survived!


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Sunday, October 24, 2010

Aiming for the Stars ...

"We don't have an eternity to realize our dreams, only the time we are here."
.... Susan Taylor

Once upon a time, a million years ago in a land far away, a baby was born. A beautiful little girl, that seemed to come from the skye. I held her close and tried to freeze time. But time, like squirming babies, will not hold still. And I wept, as I cherished the moments that time would soon steal away.

I remember when, as a little girl she would cry, telling me she never wanted to leave home. Even when I would tell her that one day she’d grow up and have her own life, she would stubbornly tell me that she was always going to stay with me. 

Although I taught her to be strong, I never thought that she’d be the one to walk away. And that has delivered the hardest blow.

I have three wonderful children -- three brilliant masterpieces for whom I cannot claim responsibility. But children are never to be seen as extensions of ourselves. That can lead to such sorrow. Rather, as the great Kahlil Gibran said when asked:

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archers sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also loves the bow that is stable.


Dream on ... Dream until your dreams come true! said...

bff I am SO SORRY for your pain. I cannot imagine ... but it is clear.

young-eclectic-encounters said...

Beautiful poignant post. Having raised six children (my youngest is 21) I can certainly relate to this post. so glad to have found your blog.
Johnina :^A

Anonymous said...

This Poem always stuck with me as it helped me understand raising children is simlpy a part of the whole that is our life.

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