Spirit-shards.

Collecting spirit-shards is no fun.

It is what I do.

I collect spirit-shards.

Some people collect shells.

I used to collect shells on pretty island beaches.

Now I collect spirit shards.

I am thinking that it is time to open my own little store on etsy. Maybe I will name it spirit-shards.

I will sell the shards of my spirit out to whoever may find beauty or peace or friendship in them.

What else can I do with my art, if not share it and offer it as gifts of my perseverance.

Art keeps my spirit from being crushed underneath the pain, the anxiety, the terror.

I keep my sanity, my spirit in tact.

I would like to have my own little store on etsy.

And I would like to publish this little blog.

I have to clean it up first.

I pray for you, that your pain levels get controlled again. I pray for you that you regain strength and health and stability and balance. I pray for you so much, with all my heart cuz I know what good spirit you are. And I love life through you cuz I know you so intimately and I love you and cherish you in the way that I want all living things to be respected and honored.

The sheep. The wool industry. Factory Farming.

Factory Farming is a monster like Pudendal Neuralgia. It tortures and subjugates.

My little spirit is a part of a much larger spirit. I long to touch this larger spirit. Sometimes I do. Dear God, thank you. sometimes I do.

Love,
Atara

Blog, hello. I wish that I had happy words to write to you.

Happy things: I found cruelty-free wool. Now, I can continue making my angels. And my angels, in turn can teach about the horrors of the wool industry and about the small farms that sell roving wool from sheep that grow with love, compassion and appreciation.

I wish that I could do more to fight against the meat industry and the wool industry. I wish that I could live my life in a healthy body. Every day is a new mountain to climb. I have to push my way through the anxiety, through hours of sleepless nights, my body, I try to  work hard within myself, to give myself compassion and patience. I try to love myself, to respect myself, to honor my efforts, my perseverance...

I dream of my art, of creating art with other women. I dream of hope and faith and the alleviation of suffering. Angels, sheep, my own little spirit bound to this little body.

I try to remember that I am not useless. I try to keep my spirit alive and awake and engaged, believing that I can be a leader somehow, a guide somehow for others that are new to this suffering. Every day is its own little mountain, my little flag of life raised above my head, marching onwards, to where?

Small sweet things. Small sweet things.

Fall.

Apart.

I gather.

Gather.

Gathering.

Small. Sweet. Things that mean something to me.

Spirit. Art. Hope. Faith.

My little worn out body.

In a world that moves so quickly.

I have fallen way behind my flock.

Me. Spirit. And another mountain to climb with the little flag of life raised above my head.

For me. For me to see. To keep on moving.

I would like to continue to grow
That is my prayer and my hope
If I cannot grow here then I will grow somewhere else

I will go
I will grow

I will seek understanding and wisdom,
always

And I will find humility
and forgiveness

within myself

I am sorry

for your suffering

deeply sorry