It has been wonderful offering this session for free to the public and I am hoping more people will hear about it and join in. For centuries meditation has been a tool for well being and connecting with our Divine Source. It can be done any time of day, and when it is done first thing in the morning, it calms the mind and helps to set up your day for more meaningful, pleasing, and easeful experiences. It brings perspective to the way in which you are looking at the world, and helps you to “not sweat the small stuff!” Flow Painting, also known as Fluid Art, or Acrylic Paint Pouring, is a fun way for everyone to create stunning abstract images, relax, and “get in the flow.” You do not have to be an “Artist.” Being you, is enough! Join me, for this unique opportunity to learn not one, but two extraordinary techniques that can assist you in managing daily life by bringing more calm and peace into your day. These are stressful times. What are you doing to decompress? Whatever works for you, do it. Stress is toxic. This is my way of handling it. Fun and focused upon my wellness, not broken-ness, or what's wrong-ness; wellness. Pouring Paint + Meditation = Feeling Good. Come and get it! Sign Up at www.motherturtle.com/classes
Mother Turtle Blog and Other Ramblings
*From a blog by Patricia Fuller:
The Twelve Steps of Pouraholics Anonymous
- Admitted I am powerless over acrylic pouring—that my life and my Facebook feed has transformed from the quintessential, “I hate Donald Trump and everything he stands for” to a calm, beautiful place of my and others’ creative expressions. All day long acrylic pouring art floods my screen, and it makes me happy. I admit that I dream (literally) of pouring; I tap my foot impatiently for my husband to leave in the morning so I can break out a canvas and make something gorgeous; and I no longer care if he hogs the remote control and watches another boring show about physics…because I can watch YouTube videos on my phone with people pouring paint!
- Came to believe that a website... is greater than myself and could restore me to sanity, but I was wrong. It just made me want to try different types of pours or perfect my technique. Let’s face it, my sanity was in question to begin with! Keep reading and you will agree.
- Made a decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of Deby Coles, founder of the Facebook group Acrylic Pouring. She is awesome...
- Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself—and my paint supplies—then went and bought more paint. And some Floetrol. Hmmm, I need more wax paper, and a palette knife. And, oh, hey, are those disposable gloves on sale?
- Admitted to my husband, my daughter, and my mother the exact nature of my wrongs…while I was doing my fourth pour of the day (and it was only 10 a.m.). Hand painting birch trees over an acrylic pour, oooh, ahhh…
- Am entirely ready to have Deby and the Acrylic Pouring staff remove all these defects of character. Especially when I see the male anatomy in sooooo many paintings—too many paintings. A fellow pourer calls this pournography. I’m not looking for them, I promise you! They’re just everywhere!
- Humbly asked her to remove my YouTube password because it is interfering with my obsessive YouTube viewing of Wigglz’ Art, Nicky James Burch, Sandra Lett, Annemarie Ridderhof, Caren Goodrich, Rick Cheadle, and MelyD.artist, just to name a few. You would die laughing if you saw my feeble attempts at recreating anything done by Wigglz’Art or Sandra Lett. Seriously. I’ve never let anyone see those disasters.
- Made a list of all persons I had harmed and became willing to make amends to them all. …So I invited them over and we had a pouring party. Coasters for EVERYONE!
- Made paintings for such people wherever possible, except when doing so would injure them or others. Heck, who am I kidding? I made them a painting anyway—buy some health insurance.
When I lived on Key West, I spent my days in the water and nights playing music. As you can imagine, this was an easy routine to settle into. The ocean called to me every day, and every day I answered. I began my relationship with her by learning how to snorkel, which for me at the time, a marginal swimmer, felt completely liberating, as breathing underwater became possible! I first explored the shallow waters and was amazed by the beauty of the sea. The fish, the underwater landscape, and, oh, the black coral! It was mesmerizing. I played amongst it for hours. Even now, when I think of it, I can feel its rhythm and grace, swaying back and forth under the seas’ current. I so loved that. Fast forward 25 years and here I am living on a hilltop surrounded by state forest, where I am working with acrylics and creating what is known as Fluid Art paintings. I call these creations, "Whirldz." Over the past several months, what has emerged, is a series of abstract ocean images. I am reveling in the feelings that they are bringing up for me and the memory of a time I spent submerged and in discovery. It was a magical time. One I’ll not forget, and now, I am enjoying that experience of the ocean on a mountain, amongst the trees. Funny and yummy too! There are more abstract seascapes to come, and I look forward to the body of work created. For now, I’m happy with what is here and very eager for more!
"Snorkeling" by Marsia Shuron
For more "Whirldz" Go Here
We tell ourselves stories in a myriad of ways that once practiced, creates what we believe. Belief affects what is experienced. What are you thinking about something you are wanting? Is it in reach? Whatever you believe about it, the laws of Physics come into play and you find evidence of those beliefs. What if you tailor your negative beliefs and choose to practice thought that builds powerful confidence, feelings of greater security and well being, and holds beneficial results for your life? Healing the Stories We Tell Ourselves with Mother Turtle can help you look at your beliefs, and how they are working for or against what you are wanting in your life. Together we will journey and I will take you through a process to uncover your stories and bring them into the light where you can decide to keep them, shift them, or let them go. It's a wonderful ride that 100's before you have taken. If you are here, perhaps there is something that is calling you to this work. Many come into it not knowing what to expect, and they leave having found deep healing, self empowerment, personal growth and freedom. If you are thinking about working with me and healing your stories, I encourage you to get in touch with me today. More Info
"Follow your bliss and don't be afraid... doors will open where you didn't know they were going to be." ~ Joseph Campbell
I have walked my own path from a very young age. I never did quite fit into "the norm." So, I went my own way, believing in my inner guidance and trusting my gut knowing. Some assumed I was naive, because I actually believed in what I was doing! I didn't care what they thought, I followed my bliss and it has led me home, to myself, which winds up being where bliss resides! Wow, revelation. My path has been one of transformation and personal growth, perspective, and one extraordinary experience after another. My world has expanded. It is enriched, and continues to unfold. I appreciate this journey, this Earth, and this life. Follow your bliss. It will not fail you.
1 year ago, the Purple Prince departed. He was found in his home on the elevator. Unknown wether he was going up or down! lol. Death humor... I know it seems silly to some, but I truly love this man. There is so much people don't know about him. A prolific philanthropist and maybe the most talented artist to have ever graced this planet. Did you know Prince played over 24 instruments masterfully? Sheesh. That was a lot of talent in that little body. I look forward to hearing the 1000's of unheard songs he left tucked away in his vault. He'll be around for a long time to come. Long Live Prince Rogers Nelson!
I have had chocolate once since the mid 90's. I had terrible reactions to it. Emotional, mental, biochemical. Thanks to a dear friend who figured it out before I did (Adrienne)... I figured it was some kind of allergy, so I stopped eating it in 1995. I did try it once in the early 2000's and that brownie left me feeling suicidal! So, no chocolate for me. People try to convince me to eat 100% cacoa but I don't have the nerve. Too risky, as I see it. But maybe the mystery has been solved, to the reason for my chocolate induced insanity! Check out the link below to an article that says there is both lead and cadmium in most major brands of chocolate! Wow. Go here:
LEAD & CADMIUM FOUND IN CHOCOLATE – Is it in your favorite brand? Check here!
This actually does happen all the time. We're just not always paying attention. We think the irate customer or aggressive driver or the kind stranger, surprise gift, or the myriad of other, what I call, "mirror like events," is something outside of ourselves. When really, it's a reflection of something within us. Don't you find, when you're angry, and you stay focused on that anger, that it just gets worse? The momentum of that emotion has a snowball effect. Why not, direct your focus? That's how "Vision" boards become so effective. They help us to focus. They lay out our desires and we give them our attention. We notice how they make us feel. We become aligned with it, and inspired. The vision board is an amazing tool because... it is visual. Images are powerful, and that's why I am excited to now be offering photo sessions that blend some of my work in Healing The Stories We Tell Ourselves with Mother Turtle, with Fine Art Photography. The photo shoot is for anyone who wants to stand in front of the camera lens and affirm their vision for their life. What do you want to see when you look in the mirror? Let's photograph you like that! More info
"Flock Together" on Soundcloud
I think I wrote this song about 15 years ago. Relevant now. Check it out and share it if you like it. Thanks! Mother T.
I never knew that was in question. According to an article I just read, apparently, it is, as this image was never officially authenticated by the Van Gogh Museum. While the masses now see this as his face. Is it really him? I find this question fascinating. Here’s an artist whose work I love. He was a prolific painter and produced one great image after the next, only wanting to show and sell his art, but selling only one single piece in his lifetime. He died miserable. After his death, he became known as one of the greatest painters to have ever lived. Funny/odd. Sad. It’s all so tragic and ironic. The work of this master Impressionist, is some of my most favorite. His unique style and expression of brush stroke, color, and emotion, are for me, quite magical and transporting/otherworldly. Brilliant. You can see some of my favorites, in my growing Pinterest Board entitled Van Gogh
So, who is the man in that now famous photograph?
Vincent ages 13 and 19.
It is said that Vincent despised photography and supposedly never sat for an adult portrait. There are two rare photographs of him in his youth (above). When I look at these I notice the male in the adult photo has a much sharper nose. Like, a lot. Luckily, we have a means of comparison. VG painted over 34 self portraits, so we at least know, how he saw himself. I myself think that’s enough to know the man’s face, which is uncannily similar to the one in the photograph in question. But…
Could this be a case of mistaken identity?
We most likely, will never know. History is curious. Somewhere along the line, someone offered this image as Vincent Van Gogh. Now more than a century has passed and it is believed to be him. But is it? There is a larger conversation here. Much more to contemplate. For me, it’s an opportunity to look at history, and who wrote it. How much do we really know about anything in this vast universe? Are we simply believing what we have been told, and, following suit by doing what we are told?
Questioning like this, is quite needed in today’s changing world. It is time to engage our minds and read between the lines. To look closely at what is being said and how that affects our lives and the greater collective. Indeed it is a good time for questioning, and correcting, ourselves. The perfect time for opening our eyes and hearts, learning, growing, understanding that we are all in this thing called life, together. As for Vincent, he still lives through each and every one of his amazing paintings. He probably could care less about the guy in the photo. I would imagine him being more upset about dying destitute, and not seeing a cent from what is now a multi billion dollar estate! Go figure. The life of an artist is not always easy, but it is ever so important and potent. Long live the Artist!
Two of my VanGogh favorites:
I couldn't believe it. The wind picked up quickly and it began to snow like crazy. In minutes, blizzard conditions occurred. Visibility all but vanished. As I pulled out of the driveway, an unfamiliar animal crossed my path. My first thought was, "What the heck was that?" I answered myself and said Bobcat, and then I stuttered, Lynx. Honestly, I know little about Lynx and may have even thought, she and Bobcat were one in the same. I know now, they are not. The Lynx is taller, has a shorter tail, and wears a smile. Kinda reminds me of Alice's Cheshire Cat. The look on Lynx’s face suggests that she knows something. Secrets. She is said to be quite elusive and loves, loves, loves feasting on Hare.
So, Lynx or Bobcat? I may never know exactly, but I searched the internet looking for the animal that I saw. First searching images of Bobcats, but I couldn’t find one with the coloration I saw. However, I did find images of Canadian Lynx that matched exactly. Except I didn’t think she was very tall, though she was crouched down and running directly into the snow bank. It was almost like she dove down into it when she heard me approaching. It was quick. A glimpse. Lots of snow and wind… yet I did see her.
She looked like this Canadian Lynx below, though she had a nice coat of snow on her.
Once down the mountain, the blizzard stopped completely. Abruptly, like I had come through a curtain or veil. It was a snow squall, and wow oh wow, did it dump a bunch of snow and make driving treacherous. At one point I could not see the road at all. This provided me with a metaphor for life. Often the road I travel, may not be visible, but I know that the road exists. During these times of darkness, it’s important to trust what I know, to continue on my path even though it be unclear, to continue with courage and intention, knowing that the fog shall lift and my path once again revealed.
I am thankful I made it down the mountain safely and I am intrigued by my sighting of Lynx. Life is spectacular. Love is all we need.
In the early 80's a high school friend invited me to a concert. I hadn't heard of the artist he spoke of, but I liked my friend (he was really cute) so I accepted his invitation. During the show, I remember looking at him (my friend) with jaw dropped in utter disbelief at what I was witnessing and hearing come from that stage. I was blown away to say the least. That was the day I met and fell in love with Stevie Ray Vaughn, guitarist extraordinaire; one of the very best. What an incredible musician. How brightly he burned. And how swifty he left us. Here's to all of the bright stars, those artists who have that certain something, not found anywhere else. This one was a gem. Thanks Stevie. Rock on brother.
Stevie Ray Vaughn playing Hendrixs' "Voodoo Chile."
When I was two, my mother tells me that I stood up on a coffee table, assumed the guitar position, waved my arms and proclaimed, “I want to rock and roll!" She laughed, but something must have resonated with her as my young journey with music began at age four. My mother sent me next door to our neighbor's house, where I took organ lessons. I was pretty overwhelmed by the instrument, and the giant, amazonian, old woman teaching me. I remember my little legs swinging on the organ bench. She would tell me to sit still. I felt so small at that organ. It was somehow, like my teacher, bigger than life. It was hard to wrap my brain around what I could possibly do with all the petals and buttons and sliders and keys… I was curious, but the sound scared me! So, at five, I started violin. I really enjoyed playing it. To this day, it is my most favorite sounding instrument (the strings of Gustav Mahler speak to my soul!). For whatever reason, my days as a young violinist were short lived, and I stopped lessons after the first year, but not before excelling to the top of our group and playing a pretty mean Twinkle Twinkle Little Star! lol! Next, came the baritone horn. Brass! I love brass and playing this horn made me happy. I have actually been thinking about playing it again. As a kid, I lugged it to and from school, which was about a half mile or so from home. After a couple years, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was tired of carrying it! It was a little too much for my nine year old to bare. Then at ten, I asked for piano lessons, promised Mom I would stick with it, she spent thousands and bought me a beautiful upright piano, which still sits in her living room today, and I, stuck it out for four years. Thing was, by the time I was twelve, I had lost interest in classical music, but continued to take lessons anyway for the next two years. During that time, I began writing music; mostly, to fool my mother and father into thinking that I was practicing! lol. What a hoot, thinking about that now. I would simply make stuff up. Somehow it came across believable to the parents, but when I went for my next lesson, my teacher expressed great disappointment in my lack of study. She eventually told me that if I was not going to practice, than I should not waste her time or my parents money. She was right, so I quit. Then came high school in the late 70’s. I was familiar with great artists like Stevie Wonder and Aretha, and Mavis Staples and Gladys Night, and popular 70's bands like the Beatles, the Stones and Simon & Garfunkel, but in 1977, I started listening to groups like Crosby Stills Nash and Young, the Grateful Dead, Led Zeppelin, Jethro Tull, ELP, etc. My life was forever changed. I wanted to play guitar! My mother said no. I couldn't blame her. She had invested a lot of time and money already. I told her it would be different this time, and preceded to beg her to buy me an acoustic guitar. She told me no again. I pleaded profusely, “But mom, I promise I’ll play it." She had heard that before. "Really mom, you don't even have to pay for lessons. I'll teach myself. You'll see. Really. Mom? Mom? Mom!" It was an uphill battle, but she finally caved in and bought me the guitar. No lessons. I didn’t care. She took me to the music shop, and I picked out a lovely guitar. It cost a whole $150. 00. I was so excited when I got it home and opened the box. The smell of the wood, the ting of the strings, the velvet in the case. That was it, I fell in love and this romance has lasted for nearly forty years, through which time, I have indeed, rocked and rolled, and sang to my hearts’ content! In retrospect, I see now, that it was all a perfect unfolding, leading me right to where my heart was guiding me. I'm grateful to my mother for allowing me to explore, and discover what was and is my passion. Once I found her, she became my lover. There is nothing that feeds my soul more. Music is my direct connection to the Divine, and a source of strength and inspiration. Music allows me to traverse the universe. Music sets me free. Music is everything. Thanks mom.
Every now and then I bring this out of the archives. The line up is stellar and I love this song. I wrote it in 1991 and never seem to get sick of it, and it's a fun song for me to play on the guitar. This video was recorded by Ed Golrick in Great Barrington, Ma., not long after my father died. I was a mess after being at his side for 6 weeks straight. This was my first performance since his passing and gosh was I mentally and emotionally drained, just plum worn out and grieving, but the music lifted me. I hope it lifts you too. Great cast of characters: Peter Kim on bass, Jon Weeks - sax, Billy Klock - drums, Alejandro Fuentealba - guitar, Pipoca - percussion, Mother Turtle - vocals, guitar.
Story: standing in whole foods considering buying the chanterelles... a dark haired 40-50 yr old woman comes in, stands next to me, silent for a moment, then precedes to tell me that she was just screamed at in the parking lot by an apparently wealthy, crazy, racist woman, who attacked her Jewish heritage. She told me that no one was in the parking lot that she saw, and this woman came and opened her car door, which crossed the line for her, so she pushed back telling her to get away from her vehicle immediately. The woman kept screaming at her and went behind her car and took a photo of her license plate. As she told me this story my whole body cringed and all I could say is "I'm so sorry that happened to you." She responded with, "See? See what he (Chump) has unleashed?" I asked if I could give her a hug and right there in the produce section, we, two strangers, embraced. Truth be told, if she didn't need a hug I was going to ask for one! Her story went right through me. As we parted and she walked away, I reminded her that there are more of us then them. She agreed. Now, I am thinking about her story and wondering where her support was. WF has a huge parking lot and other stores besides it. The racist woman was yelling at the top of her lungs. It's hard to believe no one heard. If you were there, would you have stepped in? I think I am asking my white friends about this. I want to say that i never grew up describing people by the color of their skin. Never. My grandmother Mattie Poole taught me to love everybody. To be love in action. She did, and was. I am really sad that I have been using the term "white" as of late. Everything in my being knows that we are being called to move away from looking at skin tone, and toward looking deeper into one's character. But today, I find myself using this word, as i believe it is important that those who fall into this category, use there skin tone and their voices and their privilege to help set things right. Would you have stood up for this lovely middle aged woman? Will you stand up for me? I'm envisioning the planet wide awake and coming together to stand for each other. We are the more!
With all that is going on right now, in this country and abroad, it is more important than ever to focus upon our victory and less upon our challenges. We are a powerful people, and we are being called to stand up for what is just and in the best interest of all life. Too much focus on the problem keeps it active. Keep looking at and for the solutions. Take action where you can, and at the very least meditate/pray/focus your energy on our well being. It's pretty simple really. Ask yourself what makes you feel better, fear or hopefulness? To be hopeful is not to be blind to our present day circumstances. To be hopeful, is to create our future! I've said it before, the power of the mind must never be overlooked. When we create strong intentions and hold them steady, we attract exactly what we intend. So today I ask that you use your energy in mindful ways. Quiet the fear and imagine planetary well being. We're going to go through whatever is here for us, but we are not going to stay here, in this place. Life is evolving, the question is, what do we want to evolve into? Now hold that vision strong! Mother Turtle out.