As my light becomes dark

I intertwine my words and vision into woven light

Saturday, June 25, 2011


Friendships come in many forms and have many faces.  There are no rules in a good friendship......Below i wrote a year ago taken from words/text exchanged.....

Thanks for making my life better
She smiled
Thanks for coming back into my life in a big way
Thanks for bringing joy to my life
Thanks for caring and sharing
Thanks for believing in me
You are strong and have a beautiful soul
You are amazing and I believe in you
She smiled
Thanks for being you
The you I love

Words by Melanie and Sarah......all with love

Friday, June 24, 2011


On the 20th of August 2010 I posted my first entry on this blog

Its time to give in and let the journey begin.
May I firstly be inspired beyond my minds belief and the inspiration guide my spirit to
There are two key things here GIVE IN and BE AND BELIEVE.  I think (perhaps at times over think) the world.  I am not always convincing in my thoughts and probably at times present myself as less intuitive than in fact I am.  The reason I began this blog was to discover myself through my words and USE the words to speak through the darkness of living with Retinitis Pigmentosa.
A year ago I began the search for other young visually impaired artists, particularly writers to follow and be inspired by and I began following a gifted young woman, Laura Lawson, on Facebook and reading her blog Believing is Seeing.  This was the first blog that I found, ironically I soon discovered Laura too lives her life with RP, she is a gifted artist and was presented with the loss of sight as I was at an age where her life was full and the dreams were budding, the heart was alive and then BANG the"gift" of RP fell in her lap.  Today, on my train journey home from work I read an article that Laura wrote for Motif Magazine, which has cemented me in a place I have never been before.  I have had moments throughout my life where I have known that where I am is right, but after reading this article I felt a sense of self that sits in my heart.

The article is titled Believing is Seeing(page 29)

I want to highlight the word gift because I think that there is a curse of losing your sight when you paint, write, create anything through sight, where you heavily rely on visual cues to provide inspiration, direction and creation and to be faced with losing the key to the creation means you are losing your dream, your purpose,YOU.  However, once working through the grief the realisation is that the loss is also the gain, the gift.  This is because you are forced to open your heart, your mind and your soul to a world that would not have been experienced without the loss.  I personally draw most of my inspiration through what I don't see visually but what I see through my spirit and from this I write.  What I write I admit is not always uplifting and mostly about loss, but for me this is part of the acceptance of the gradual loss of sight.

Yesterday I was trying to work out how I can convince my world how much I have gained through the journey of loss.  I realise its not something I can convince anyone of, its something felt or experienced. For ME I find little joy in struggling visually, but I hope I do make it to a safe place where I can accept that I am NOT just my eyesight.  Where I am at now is still in a mixed up churning river, caught in the current and am trying to swim to the shore of the mean time it is the observations and poetry and hundreds of photos of fading sunlight skies and breaking dawns that will help me to float.

Earlier this week I was told "tell a story" and you know what THIS is my story, the shades of light and dark, the shadows, the fear of loss and being left alone and deserted.

a story
tell a story
feel the words
the fumbling
know the sunshine
wear it like the dress
with the pink button
you know that dress
folded into the yellow
and orange pleats
is the child
who danced
and glided in the air
holding out little hands
she still cups her hands
towards the sky
given away dreams
as the stars fall
from the neatly draped
buring the child in the soul
the rich earth
which feeds the presence
the child never forgets
her heart remains nestled
beside the longing spirit
her love endless
even when the darkness falls
she will remain

Saturday, June 18, 2011


I have always loved Sia Furler, her music hits the coners of my heart that I rarely feel and as I sat watching her on You Tube, this poem came to me, so I have included the video that brought forth the words....

The notes I take
Speak of the vision
Of remembered times passed
The void
The once loved
My words
Are of dreams
Enormous vessels of fear
The evaluation
Respect and admiration
Deepest moments of trust
And endless feelings of belief
I am a creature of desire
I am a creature

Sunday, June 12, 2011

heart shadows


I knew
I know
I have moved
My heart sleeps alone
I am now not the same
Violent violin
As I long
For the belonging
As my heart wants mending
Darkness throws wild threads
Around the edge of my dreams
The hurt doesn’t believe anymore
As today is confused
By yesterdays light
Comforting tomorrows fear
Surrendering to the dread
That makes the soul bleed
Breaking the dream of flying
I walk
Dragged down by the heavy step
The path hiding the glory
Shadows glide from the falling sun
Playing tug of war with the measurable beat
Drowning the thumping heart
As the sound won’t change
Feeling its deepest tunes
Empty words you have given me
Washing me with a wave of confusion
Lingering in my standing presence
Your free soul burns
And I continue to crave your warmth
But my chance has fallen away
As the truth hides behind the beat
The habit clutched in the hearts
Waiting for to me be fixed
The man with the red suede boots
Observes with his fountain pen
And crumpled paper
He lies about the heroes
That still cry
I knew
I know