Tuesday, 20 October 2009


I knew for certain that I was depressed when on the bus at Hyde Park corner I had to wipe away a tear from my eye as the horse-guards crossed the road in front of the bus on their return to the stables after standing so still for many hours protecting the ahem!..queen. . “They are so beautiful” I thought “and ALL black, a series of identical (to my eyes anyway) shiny black stallions with a series of men in such very shiny golden helmets all glinting in the sun … London is so beautiful “I thought as I blew my nose feeling like a fool.

I was on my way to a long avoided visit to the hairdresser thinking “I really have to do something with my hair. I’ve been doing this wild woman of the Himalayas thing for just too long … I’m supposed to be “groomed” at my age!!!!” Those horses were groomed to an inch of their life it definitely suited them and was in their job description.
My job description as I saw it was along the lines of …..Be invisible; preferably stay at home under the duvet. Expect nothing, look after your elderly mother; give the kids all your money….Uhuh? Definitely low on serotonin this a.m. even though I had had my chocolate!

lost and looking(in the wrong places)
I considered every female’s hairstyle the length of Piccadilly and up Shaftsbury Avenue.” No notlike that ..,”that doesn’t work.”…” Don’t like that”….” Definitely not that.”... “What

about that older woman with the longish dyed hair lighting a fag in a doorway” … funnily enough, not bad in a very old rock chick way … hmmmm? “Maybe I could dye my greys?”…” …..”Maybe grey could work … how do you get it all the way there though without cutting it all off?” I got off the bus now really uncertain about the hair thing

Working my way through Covent Garden, I window shopped. By now I had decided that I needed A COMPLETE MAKEOVER! I went into a couple of places and looked about and considered red plastic stilettos , spent far too long in one shop choosing a black patent handbag and two floaty numbers but I began to dislike the experience of shopping there, it was dark and the girl that wandered about with her arms folded seemed dim also. So I left after attempting to engage with the dimness that was there, feeling really flat and slightly more depressed than ever thinking … “gosh! I won’t get made-over at this rate… All is lost ,whatever will become of me?”
Being guided to the source :getting back on track
Before I knew it I was in “Tibetan Dreams” engaging with the lovely Tibetan woman who was keeping busy in good light, making jewellery. I’ve shopped there often. It is an inexpensive Quality experience. The stock varies but as far as I know it is from the Himalayas or thereabouts by Tibetans. I was beginning to feel better.
We chatted about my hair and she advised me. “No “she said, “You don’t need a makeover maybe a little trim that’s all. Tibetan women all have hair like yours at every age.” I bought a little OM pendant and crossed the road to the hairdressers. My hairdresser was having the day off!!!! Now I felt even better still.

I had a lovely lunch of pumpkin soup and coriander cornbread at Neal’s Yard salad bar. Charmingly served in a pleasant peaceful albeit strangely eclectic Brazilian /Buddhist atmosphere … A quality over quantity experience… I was back on the blues-beating track for sure.
I felt light –hearted. !!

Returning to the source

I taxied to Central Saint Martins (my alma mater) to catch the last day of the Cecil Collins (who taught there for 30yrs) exhibition “Fools and Angels”
Cecil saw both the fool and the angel as sacred aspects of our selves.
The fool does not think but feels and acts from the wisdom of the heart risking failure. Cecil said “you don’t have to understand to create but you have to create to understand” this was a lot to do with his teaching. It was to do with taking risks with materials, marks etc., being vulnerable.
The angel is the bringer of light that connects us with our higher selves and therefore wisdom. Both are wise, the fool despite errors and the angel is unerringly wise.
I have a great fondness for Cecil Collins he is one of my favourite people ; he is like a father to me. I turn to his philosophy often to check that I am OK and on the right path. I had re-entered his world, a real world where there is no place for the ego. A place where the artist has a responsibility to focus on the light. Artists do tend to focus very intently on what they are making and we all “become that upon which we focus” and we all benefit from more light in our individual lives and as a species.
I was once again a-fire, blazing with light not depressed in any way neither by my lack of grooming or the pain in my hip from my outing.


The FOOL in me took a RISK and got me out this morning . The fool in me gave reign to my feelings as I sniffed tearfully on the bus at the beauty of the horses and allowed me to own them without fear of embarrassment, perhaps the fool was just my plain silly ego (and we all have one) given some air.

The angel in me guided me with unerring wisdom and led me to the source ,to that place of grace where one can draw on unlimited joy beyond ego .

I won’t be thinking about a makeover but I will be fulfilling what is my real


focusing on light, love and peace whilst dreaming of the Himalayas and a free Tibet.
Imagine if those beautiful Tibetan women were given the “Ten Years Younger treatment!!!!!!
I don’t think that any of the makeovers I see on TV make anyone look better do you?

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