oncontextmenu="return false" onselectstart="return false" ondragstart="return false"

Sunday, December 20, 2015

Gypsy dreams

New pillows for the Gypsy Caravan...


Sometimes a tiny place is all the dream we need.

Imagine the crunch of rocks under the wooden wheels of a gypsy caravan train, the rhythmic motion rocking colorful porch lanterns which throw glittering rainbows as they catch the rays of the sun, swaths of rich tapestries and velvets, and the sweet tinkling of coin belts.  The freedom of taking yourself wherever you want to go, whenever. The call of the neo nomad.


Tuesday, December 15, 2015



Maybe the fairy is a bit more crone like now... innocence is lost at some point 
and that's OK when wisdom is gained in its place.




Sunday, December 13, 2015

Mornings


I'm restless. 
Things are calling me away. 
My hair is being pulled by the stars again


(Anais Nin)

Wednesday, November 18, 2015



"Her soul was too deep to explore by those who always swam in the shallow end." ---A. J. Lawless


Monday, November 2, 2015

Gypsy days...













The wistfulness of these autumnal days moves the mind to dream. 

By the natural withering of leaves and the shortening of days...    

Autumn places a ruby jewel in our hearts

It brings out the gypsy in me...

So I've been hiding in my gypsy world a lot lately...

Reading

Dreaming

Hiding secrets in jeweled filigree journals... 
                                                                       
Long fringes gypsy shawls

Mad hair

Shoes in the colors of rainbows

A bunch of happiness in a bouquet

An eclectic, fun and always-welcoming room

A room bursting with color, texture and patterns

Mixing and matching patterns to my heart's content.

Embracing the carefree, the relaxed and the unusual... 

Browns, terra cottas, gold and jewel tones...

Saturated purple, fiery orange and electric blue...

Whatever is good for your soul....

Do that!!  




Are you a hippie/gypsy at heart?


Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Summer of firefly memories...


A firefly illuminated summer night...

“People never grow up. They might be adults on the outside, but inside they were all just children. They only needed the opportunity to act like children. She watched admiringly at her...” 

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

The gypsy's song...


I have a dream, a song to sing
To help me cope with anything
If you see the wonder of a fairy tale
You can take the future even if you fail
I believe in angels
Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels
When I know the time is right for me
I'll cross the stream, I have a dream

I have a dream, a fantasy
To help me through reality
And my destination makes it worth the while
Pushing through the darkness still another mile
I believe in angels
Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels
When I know the time is right for me
I'll cross the stream, I have a dream
I'll cross the stream, I have a dream

I have a dream, a song to sing
To help me cope with anything
If you see the wonder of a fairy tale
You can take the future even if you fail
I believe in angels
Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels
When I know the time is right for me
I'll cross the stream, I have a dream
I'll cross the stream, I have a dream




Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Bandolera



A la carrera, por los caminos
su huella va alcalzando mi destino 
en la galera de los cautivos 
hoy paga penintencia mi castigo. 
Pero como iva a darte yo lo que tú mereces
si ni mi propio corazón me pertenece.
Se lo llevó de aquí dejándome esta pena
la que robo mi amor, Ay Bandolera.

Como iva a darte yo lo que tú mereces
si ni mi propio corazón me pertenece.
Se lo llevó de aquí dejándome esta pena
la que robo mi amor, Ay Bandolera.


Saturday, July 25, 2015

In the mountains - a love story

Right when the sun was high up in the sky, the little gypsy girl and her beau collected some of their belongings and followed the steep narrow row that lead from their little white cottage up the mountains.  At that time of day, clouds were low and hanging from strings made out of heat.  Birds and other creatures of the woods behind their garden were very quiet; hiding somewhere from this conundrum of heat, humidity and overcast skies... 


Up in the mountain... the Blue Ridge Mountains as they are called, the air ran smooth and heat was somewhat tolerable.   They parked their gypsy caravan and set up tent. 


One minute, the little gypsy girl and her lover the Fisherman were working together on getting their camp ready to spend a night or two and the next, the girl found herself  abandoned in frightening forested mountains...


She looked to her left and then to her right.  She turned around and looked north and south, but no sight of the Fisherman was to be seen anywhere.    


It took the little gypsy girl a minute or two to see clearly...  but finally, she understood.  Ah, the lake beyond the camp steaming with fishes... the Fisherman....


Indeed, when the little gypsy girl came to her senses, her lover the Fisherman was already heading down the lake...  


She decided right there and then she should follow him.  Swiftly, she took her most valuable possession her camera, and down the path she went...  


A terrible idea that was... she soon realized!.... you see, the trails down the lake were covered in poison ivy...  she was already flushed with an early bout of poison from her own garden and was afraid things would get worse if she'd to continued down in noxious weeds.... besides, she was wearing the wrong type of shoes for such adventures...  but it was already much too late to go back...


Making sure not to step on any poisonous weed or touch the wrong bush, she continued walking through the perilous routes in direction towards the lake...



For one terrifying moment the little gypsy girl thought she had lost her way.  Things were getting quite creepy by now.  Nobody was to be seen for miles around, not a hush to be heard, peculiar roots protruded from the earth in strange forms and trees and lush vegetation obscured the trails, making things look distorted and remarkably creepy...   


Even tree stumps protruding from the waters resembled ghost and the dead, feeble and wet, coming out of muddy graves to the frighten little gypsy girl....


Until finally... over there! 


...the dear handsome comforting sight of her lover the Fisherman! 



You must forgive me if I won't finish this tale here... you see, the little gypsy girl and her lover the Fisherman are still camping somewhere deep in those mountains... hard to tell what they'll do next, or what food they'll eat or trails will have to be discovered...  For now I will sit down and have a morsel of food until again, night will come near and trees, forest and mountains as one will rest sleepy heads in the lovely arms of another day...  


Would you be here then to hear more stories?  I hope you will my friend!

I'll be waiting inside the old gypsy caravan....


See you then!