Monday, June 23rd
This begins to be more of a monthly journal than a blog; my own form dependent on inspiration and time. Life has been full but not overburdened and summer in my garden is a delight. The plants have taken a liking to their home on the mountain and fairies and unseen creatures, having discovered their joy, cavort with them in the evenings. When I go out in the morning, the particular spot where they’ve spent time still holds the memory of their presence; they leave behind a different quality of light – a gleam. Nothing could so assure me that my efforts are accepted by nature as in this evidence of obvious approval.
For the time being I’ve set aside the marketing of “Time and Transformation” and returned to complete the long novel of the Minoans. The Minoan story is told to a young girl growing up on Crete in the home of an archaeologist, by her Cretan nanny. It will be two books for it’s far too long for one which gives me the liberty to fill out the girl, Gloria’s side of the story as she struggles to overcome the debilitating effects of a dark mother. The Minoan story is already complete. As much as I enjoyed living among the ancient Maya and bringing Balamka’s adventure to life, the Minoans are the people of my heart and the characters who lived in their time are my very soul. The first sentence I ever wrote was devoted to them, many many years ago when I went looking for a culture in which to place a story of healing caves; ancient places of psychological birth. On Crete I found the birth place of Zeus in the Dictaen Caves and so began a sojourn that became three different versions of their story. I would put it aside, go back and start again, and again. I know that I must finish but I will never leave them, nor they me for nothing that ever was can not be, and everything loved is forever held in the soul.
