Healing Through Art: My Soul House

Where have I been?

Meandering through the blistering pain of pericarditis, pleurisy and a mo-fo muscle pinch under my right scapula that has left me shaking and nauseous for three days.

Not very fookin’ social, I can sure as shit tell you that.

But, as I’m one to talk the talk…I felt I could best make use of the solitude to walk the walk…figuratively, of course, as I can’t so much as crawl up the stairs without tears…and own my shit.

My focus of late has been on a concept introduced at the beginning of the Soul Restoration workshop I’m taking through the Brave Girls Club.

“Soul House.”

Where I can let people in that I feel can best augment my life.

Right now? I’m flyin’ solo…just me and MOI…gathering my thoughts about myself…denying the shame and the guilt I’ve put on myself by believing the bullies and the haters All. My. Life. Trying to turn that frown upside down and believe (truly believe) that I’ve had so many bullies and haters that I *must* be some kind of special…otherwise, who ever notices the mundane? The unoriginal?

I’ve cleaned out my house. Stripped it down, repainted and am about to start adding “life.” So?

I felt the need to put it into a project. A physical representation of all that is my “Soul House.”

I found a log cabin-ish kind of wooden thingie at my local craft store, Michael’s. Y’know…those plain wooden shapes you paint or whatnot and create something with…??

I like log cabins, but have never had the privilege to have been in one.

EVER.

I felt compelled to make it mine…so I bought it. And it was on SALE.

*jazz hands*

Thusly, it was meant to BE. 😉

Anyhoooooooooooooooooooooo….fast forward through the mind meld of thoughts I’ve possessed over the past few days and I give you wood (shush it), paint, distressing and lil’ bits’o’fabric…using sponges, paintbrushes and a whole lotta soul

There is a clean house…and it is mine.

It’s a little log cabin in the woods on the land that I love in the depths of my mind.

My sanctuary.

Where truth lives and scars are visible…because that means that the lies have been ignored and that wounds have healed.

I hung some curtains in the window…my Soul House has transformed into my:

Soul Home

Foliage, even...because it's just gotta be as natural as...healing...

Foliage, even…because it’s just gotta be as natural as…healing…

I'm ready to own it...

I’m ready to own it…

Welcome to my crib...

Welcome to my crib…

Know what the best part is?

I’ve already started the healing, of course…but what’s my representation?

I’ve put into my home healing herbs that I’m currently studying…to remind me of why I work as  hard as I do, and of what I must endure and overcome in order to regain a stronghold on my health.

I’ve put into my home magickal herbs that I have to augment my spirituality and connection to my ancestors and lands.

Where a house becomes a home...

Where a house becomes a home…

 

My home resides on my mantle, where I can see it daily…and remember what it is that I’m endeavouring to accomplish:

Soul Restoration.

😉

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