2016, a scar of poetic beauty, a piercing of joy and sorrow




Dear 2016,

You were a wicked bitch.

Sweet and feral.

Brutal and protective.

Raw and loyal.

Joyful and hopeful.

I was hoping for more lush and less dull thudding pain.

I was wishing for more luminous when what was required was more walking through the dark looking for the hurt places.

Grief was near. This second year without my mom was more real and had her missing from so much.

There was new life with sweet Nora that brought so much joy.

Deep pain, riotous happy.

There was relief from all the testing, growing, learning.

Pink rocks, hills of them on Georgian bay, stunning in their moss speckled beauty. The anniversary of your leaving mom. I was there then walking on them and remembering your endless love.image

I remember the moon that night. A sickle rising above the lake. All the humans sitting and watching as she rose in the pink light of the setting sun. Breathing with them. Life going on.

All the lakes, Superior, Huron, Michigan. Diving into their depths, immersed full body underneath, away and near.

Washed clean, new in her magic, home.

The Lake Superior shore, the heat, the heat and then the wet, cool deep. Frolicking like a seal, sealskin, soulskin. Back in her, beloved in her, found in her.

And the trees, the rocks, the endless forests along the road.

Time out of mind.

Beaches beneath toe and heel, stone sentinels of granite and gneiss. Speckled grey green and blue, peach and pewter. Each one a jewel in the sand. Guardian and guide post.image

Waterfalls and ancient cedars with gnarled roots like Tolkein forests with meandering stone walls marching along the ravines edge. Magic in the very air.


This beauty as real as any pain. This beauty as cutting to the heart. Wrenching open to all of this aliveness.

This leaving its mark, a poetic trail, a scar, inked in beauty on me.

Remembering a year lived in all its complexity, soft and sharp edges. Alive to live it.

Writing down its bones as the year closes not having written all year.

I have no answers as to why when it brings clarity and a settledness to my soul.


2017 you’re here. I want you to be full of wild luminous parties under the moon, Nora walks, girl gangs, new friendships and creative collaborations with other wild minded ones. Perhaps a wander through making and magic and reading tea leaves under the maple tree on chairs like peacocks. Maybe we could all play together in the wild luminous playhouse breathing in enchantment and dreaming while awake.

Life mark me with your poetic paths of memory, your runes of experience and adventure. Your piercings of joy and sorrow so that I know I’m here. I’m alive. I’m a part of it all. The spinning earth, this lush and luminous life. The wet, the dirt, the wild in all of it,


finding myself again in the dark forest under the moon,

love Melissa


Build the wild luminous tent and the magic will come

Hello all you lovely wanderers,

Come sit down in the tent I built for you. Come rest awhile on velvet pillows. Relax and ease all the should haves and the could ofs. Come let the wild magic reign.

be in the magic and mystery of all that you are

be in the magic and mystery of all that you are

I’ve dreamed about gathering women for so long. I’ve been in groups of women before and I know what happens there. Deep connection, inspiration and the holding of space for all to unfold in a safe and loving way. I used to do parties for my daughter when she was younger. We had in the castle, under the sea, mermaid parties and dancing with the fairies and fire goddesses birthday shindigs. Absolutely loved making these parties for the girls! Some wise one said to me ‘why don’t you have parties like this for women?’ So I did. I just stepped into all this magic one day with PM invitations to women I had recently met at the artists co -op I belong too and to my best friends. I was scared. Would they come and give it a go? Show up for my creative visioning nights and my other wild schemes? They did. They showed up and pretty much amazed me with their openness and fun spirit. My first gathering on the Summer Solstice got rained out. Damn. We gathered anyway and then again in early 2015. In the Spring I started pinning stuff on Pinterest. If you like that kind of unruly gorgeousness here’s the link to my wants and pinned desires  https://www.pinterest.com/melissakdesign/

I remembered the tents I had  pinned the year before and had been pining for since last summer. Why not this year? I thought even amidst my mom going into long term care nursing and all that led up to that. Some very emotional and draining times for my family. The thing was these dreams I had, they were what kept me afloat on this raging sea of sadness and pain. I learned that it can all have its place in me. The joy and the pain. The saying goodbye to the mom I once knew and the planning for this new happiness to come into my life.

:::the unfurl girls:::

So I dreamed along with the grieving. I knew that this witnessing of my moms diminishing health, though so brutal at times, was making me ask myself how I truly wanted to be alive. The answers were coming to me and this post is about so much of what they were. To create more magical spaces where I could be in my joy, be with my girls on fire. Let all the gorgeousness I conjured up in my head out in the world.

shes beckoning you

shes beckoning you

down the mossy garden path

down the mossy garden path

So here it is! I did it with some help from my guy who built the bamboo pergola and I hung the lights and created my nest. I was longing for these vintage Moroccan textile floor pillows. I did find some amazing brass enamelled dishes to hold crystals  and candles, lavender and sage.

photo cred. Elizabeth Essex aka the cat lady lawyer

photo cred. Elizabeth Essex aka the cat lady lawyer

I piled that tent with pillows ’cause can there ever be enough pillows? Not in my world. There was delicious food spread out on my grandfathers picnic table under the maple tree.

'Through the Veil

‘Through the Veil”

It was a chocolate truffle, wine, laughter and sex talk kinda night. When my local girlgang flung themselves down in that cushy nest the real started. The kind of real when the mind relaxes and the true voice starts speaking. The wild mused voice of this is who I really am, what I really want to talk about. What troubles me  and what makes me curious. What makes me feel lit up and what’s fucking awesome in my life.

there are angels and gypsy magic afoot.

there are angels and magic afoot 

so much magic inside the tent

so much magic inside the tent

This is the best, in my opinion, kind of magic! The magic of being seen and heard and of seeing the beauty, the fierce grace and fire in us all. So I built the tent and they came. In my field of dreams. Now you’re here too and I’m so glad you came! It is the best kind of joy for me to have you here. What I’ve wished and hoped for.

they will gather there

they will gather there

I’m hoping you might want to join me here in my virtual tent, in my joy. I’ll be talking about the circle I want to gather virtually really soon. I’m planning it for October. I’m so excited to share all the details with you. Next week I’ll post about it all. For now though I want to celebrate that you are here on my newish website! Yay! A long held dream and I’m going to give away a piece of my custom gemstone jewellery, some of my original art cards and some surprises too. All you have to do is comment here and let me know who you are and I’ll pick a winner on Sunday, Sept. 13th. The day of the new moon. We’re gonna talk new moons real soon. 😊 Saving a place for all you lovely, messy ones in my tent of dreams,

photo cred. the lovely Elizabeth Essex aka the cat lady lawyer

photo cred. the lovely Elizabeth Essex aka the cat lady lawyer

love always,

Melissa ✨💖✨