The Veil Is Thin. The Voice Is Within.

Happy Hallow's Eve and blessed Samhain to all!
The veil is thin. The voice is within.

I am shimmering with delight to be alive right now. Alive and with the gift of being able to cast my eyes like nets over a majestic and powerful, green ocean. Truly moved to be able to see my book through in Alabama, the place where my beloved Grandmother Sibyl grew up. The place where she also met my grandfather. I can almost feel their essence surrounding me as I type this -- The mysteries of love are greater than the mysteries of death and yet they are both one in the same. Today, I am drawn into meditations of the past...somewhere between descent and shadows - knowing that the spiral is evermore inward and evermore spinning like dark birds and that it is through that swirling and shapeshifting of past as well as my ancestors great spirit that I have been brought into these dreams of now...brought into this time with a deeper sense of wholeness, holiness and understanding. I will be leaving this magical place tomorrow so there is a great presence settling into my bones today and I remain in awe that I will be able to carry my visions and writings from this trip with me on the pages of my first book.

Sweet Home Alabama!

Woke up this morning to a sugary white beach that had the perfect deep blue green ocean backing and first email of the day was one from a friend who offered kind words and a projection that some of my writing reminded them of Kathy Acker. Thanks pal. That's a cool compliment. Thanks Alabama. I couldn't ask for a better Southern backdrop. You aide me beyond words deep into the land of visualization and more creation. Think I have the visual mapped out on how I want the cover of my book to look. YES!

In Dark Places

My bones ached a lot. When I was just a little girl my Mother thought I had a 'growing problem' so she took me to see the doctor to see if she could prevent me from growth. I remember her being very afraid - Afraid that I'd be too tall, that I'd be unlike the other kids in my class you know that I'd be 'different' and I also remember that in my mind she was afraid of my magic...or rather the things I knew and how I'd tell them because I wasn't afraid. I liked shining light in dark places and she was terrified of that. I was a curious little girl, curious about life and the food of the great spirit and always remember having such a quest for vision and I wanted to, without knowing what I was doing, to cultivate and strengthen that. 
I knew that that everything was just an illusion then again I didn't know how to know that back then but I knew something and at all cost, even if it mean my life I was going to stay on that quest to at least uncover my own eyes as they were always thirsty. I remember being told NO. I remember saying YES then going against that NO be cause I knew something, something deep down inside so I decided to set my sails and go out to sea. In my mind it was me on a boat with some cats and poetry, I was just a child so that's how I envisioned it. I was gonna take a few talismans with me, carry them in my in my pocket using my inner compass as a guide so that there would be no chance of getting lost but that's another story cause I got lost and I got lost even worse than a Chet Baker song cause that ain't so bad. Keeping illusion in mind , nothing was bad...it was just all part of the process when one decides to set sails up and go to sea. I was gonna be the mother fucking sea captain come hell or high water and my Mother was just gonna have to let it be. Ain't no doctor gonna shoot my bones up and try to prevent my growth but they did....they shot me up good....I don't know what it all means because it really doesn't matter but their shots did not do the trick. Mission not accomplished. 
You see when you're dealing with ones soul no one else is going to be able to take control. She nor the doctor could prevent this growth, spiritually but when I was out a sea a funny thing happened, I felt the need to come back, you know make a come back mainly because I was growing and my rose bones ached and yeah maybe being out there at sea really did something to me. I mean I died a thousand times out there, died alive. I got lost beyond words and when the words no longer made sense I knew it was time to hit the shore. And, just like the lover that I am I came back and I will die and die again.  
So when I came back, and just like some sorta passage outta a William Blake poem because I could never understand Nevermore but I do remember this passage that runs so deep, deep inside my endless eye "Some are born to sweep the light and some are born to endless night" and to that I say "Some may take the bone and lay down in the dirty cotton field with blood, when milk fed the grass and soul meets the flood, " but not me. NO. Not me. 
The slave inside of my Mother, that doctor or even the trees that tower outside of my window bay still be, they may not have grown, tried to prevent their growth with the alpha letters PhD but mine wont stop, my soul that is....in my world there are no slaves, we are all free.

Sneek Peek of Creation Stories by Alan John McGee

What a read!! Alan McGees new book Creation Stories will be out November 7th on Pan McMillian Press so I consider myself very lucky to have intercepted a copy of it from Alan before its release. I am currently on page 36 of 336 and cannot put it down. Creation Stories is not only inspiring and thoughtful it's an incredibly insightful account on what it was like for a young boy from a working class family to grow up in Glasgow and arrive by a strong hand of fate with a few good friends and foes into the music industry.

I'm currently packing to go on a trip to meet my press and lay out my own book so I'll be working 8 days a week from now on as my own book is about to birth into this life but one thing's for sure, this read is traveling with me. It's huge and inspiring, just what I needed as sometimes hearing someone else tell their stories really reaches you and feels like home. Alan often says 'keep the faith' and now I know why...whatever you may or may not believe in, life truly is just one big, beautiful, wild, flowing ride!

               The book Creation Stories is dedicated to Alan's Mother -- Pure Class Alan, pure class!!

Available hot off the Pan McMillian Press November 7th, 2013. 

WORDS © Wendy Rose Watson 

Church of the Victorian Cult: The Cream Blue Dawn

Church of the Victorian Cult: The Cream Blue Dawn: The strand of shadow in your eyes - to feel the history of your flesh beneath my skin - all of your pale colors stealing my breath - if i co...

American Spirit VS. Bleeding Vagina T

Dear American Apparel thanks so much for the invitation that popped up in my inbox with a menstruating vagina on the chest but next time you come up with such a clever idea you may wanna consider hiring me to do the design work as your designer obviously left out the teeth and come on, where's the proper companion shirt for the fellas? You know the one that showcases a giant erect penis across the chest? You have inspired me though as I now know what I'm purchasing for all of my family and female friends this X-mas. It is ,after all,right around the corner and you know that I love supporting businesses that once sexually harassed their employees AND has the highest paid immigrant rate in this great country we share. Furthermore, your team is clearly bursting with creativity -- if all else fails just put a bleeding vagina on it, this will surely boost sales in an economy that's cut throat busted -- gotta get your act together because the dollar is crashing and bleeding vaginas bring in the gold! Yeah. 

Meanwhile, after I make my early X-mas purchases you're emails are being deleted from my inbox. No, not because you are pushing the levels of so called creativity but because it's NOT creative and it stands for nothing except maybe the halt of child brides in other countries that die on their wedding nights from internal bleeding. Sorry, I can't think clearly because I'm currently bleeding, forgive me. I also forgot your line is made in America. So many happy good times indeed!

So, I just thought you should know that I'm not angry with you. However, since I'm an American woman I feel the need to exercise my fingertips (not my voice) a little and tell you that I have NO desire to wear an advert that greets the general public with a warm hello and a bunch of wiccan period blood. Sure, I may bleed and then draw down the moon from time to time but obviously whatever old sod created this is lacking the real muse, which IS The American Woman -- sure we bleed and yeah American Apparel as the song goes....stay (the fuck) away from me! 

Leaning Into the Afternoon

I know it's slightly premature as Picassos' birthday isn't for a few weeks but there's no better time for art that you identify with than when it calls to you. I've always associated with The Blue Period and Picassos angular, alien, melancholic images and this one in particular was in my mind when my eyes kissed the sky today. I remembered having this postcard taped on my dressing mirror alongside other precious images that spoke to me, tibetan incense, a bottle of my favorite fragrance called Bluebelle from Penhaligons (though I only wore it in the cruelest months of Spring) I remember having a collection of golden skeleton keys on my dressing table, a notebook to record my prayers for the day and other talismans that still remain very close to my heart. Anyhow, here's my favorite leaning Harlequin for no reason at all other than maybe sometimes you just come across visuals in your mind, images that still speak to you, that the silence cannot break... an image that can still go the miles and stir something up in you because you haven't lost that feeling and your limbs are still awake and alive and yes it's still one of my rituals to stop, to listen, to notice as each moment is holy, sacred and shining...each moment is just a leaning into the afternoon.

A Mother of Gold - A Mother of Stories

I Just found out that my Mother stole a pair of shoes for me when I was a wee girl going into pre-school and she was finger-printed and booked. Those were some very challenging  times for sure. I promised to her that she'd never have to live that way again as it touched me to think of her in that position, the struggle she went through to try to provide for me, the way she wanted people to know she cared, the way she wanted good things for me. I'm good with my old pair of boots right now - they are worn and cracked maybe but they have so many stories alive in them waiting to break through and just wanna say that I have so much respect for the people who I learn from - My mom, for one who is here this weekend with me- My Mother Rose in all her glory - I'm just the illuminated apprentice, I learn so much from others all the time. I have had lucky and unlucky accidents in this life  but I know that I am blessed in every way so it's a huge honor the I've been asked by RE/Searchs' very own Mother Meme to do a piece on Motherhood soon. I truly believe that every woman is a Mother of gold and a Mother with stories, and that we can all birth something beautiful when we look and listen inside. Honored when this sorta light takes my hand. Blessed to be a part of this higher plan.