So much has happened it has become a blur.

Wow I can’t belive it is almost June and Winter Solstice.

Half the year gone and so much has happened.
The best idea I have is to jump in a time machine and go back sharing what has been and gone and the lessons learnt. Time machines are not hard to find, are they? Hopefully you will get something that can be if use for you.
Starting this week we will travel to goals past, present and future.
We will navigate the trials and travels of art, storytelling and teaching. We can observe the success and failures of both my goals and others I help everyday.
But first to invent that time machine.
Anything is possible, even a time machine.
See you later this week or is that last week with a time machine?
Xx Allie



By A. Simpson 2015
The morning mist glues to my skin as I walk along the path.
Behind me lies yesterday, grabbing at my heals as it fades.
Auburn rays dust the leaves with light, the new day is dawning.
A day like no other, but the same as all that have come before.
As I watch the old day die and the new day birth, I feel apprehension.
A knot, a tension creeping through me, seeping into my consciousness.
The light traps my feet, flitting up to my eyes.
I cannot help but see it.
The new day advances and hidden in it,
is my birthday.
The self-condemnation is alive, like the light playing on the ground before me.
What have I achieved in the last 12 months, anything at all?
Opportunities missed, goals unrealised.
A birthday, another year gone, enough to bring me to my knees.
Remorse and thoughts of promise lost. Things undone, loss and grief.
My internal turmoil is interrupted as wet droplets run down my cheeks.
Could they be tears of loss, pride or of youth’s longing?
All symptoms of my thoughts.
Graciously the thunder rouses me and as the rain falls, I see.
The new day is here and of yesterday I only have memories left.
All my past birthday’s, kisses, celebrations, songs and cheers.
Days filled with love and life.
There will be no tears; for I have no dreams lost, only hope of dreams to come.
There are no regrets, for they are for days gone.
I stretch out my arms and tilt my face to the rain.
Sticking out my tongue to drink the cold raindrops.
5 or 105 it’s all the same; delight in what and who you are.
The chance of a new day
and the taste of
stolen raindrops on your tongue.


All new actions, deeds or ideas start with something small.

A seed of an idea,
A seed of desire,
A small thing that catches your imagination
or a small thorn that niggles you into action just to ease the discomfort.

A wish ladybug

But it is normally a truth of nature that we start with a small inkling of motion that builds momentum from there.
That is what I have now a small precious spark of creativity trying to find an outlet to build momentum.
I have again found a productive voice for my blog and a creative path in my stories.
I have been dealing with something that has for the last months taken all creativity and crushed it, that is why my blog has been silent.
I have learned many painful things and the odd revelation about myself during the grieving process (which I don’t think will ever stop)
Where my creativity springs from and what can sustain and nurture it.
which has greatly impacted who I am as an artist, writer and teacher.

Over the next few blogs I will share some of my lessons that may be of help to you in your own creative travels.
But Today I want to nurture this little seed and leave grief behind.
It will be of no surprise to some of you that I find artistic inspiration in the country I live in and the wonderful birds and creatures that inhabit New Zealand, it was through time spent in these rugged and beautiful areas (of NZ) I started to finally draw and write again.
I understand we all hear repeatedly the message of get out in nature, spend time in the fresh air….. and then we put our heads back into work or life and ignore the unobtainable great outdoors. The truth is I live in a country that is about 80% nature (my stats not actual measurements) and I can easily ignore nature, but I have found it so valuable as a creative (and emotional) sustainability tool that I must repeat the repeatedly repeated.
My takeaway message for you today a little seed of an idea is  this, take time each day to spend in and or with nature.I found that it enables you to create a form of white space in your mind that lets creativity (or emotional health) grow or heal. Almost like meditating whilst moving and with your eyes open. It also makes you slow down and hush for just a moment and that’s never bad. If you are in a city and cannot find any nature to speak of, then buy a plant that needs continual care or attention and loose yourself in it for 5minutes each day.On busy days I spend 5 minutes having a coffee on the back deck I ignore the cars and just hear the birds and the trees. Best medicine I have found for a wounded creative spirit is a little self-time in whatever quiet form it comes. Mine just happens to come in the form of a Tui or Pukeko.

We have a wonderful Kids club for enjoying and learning about our Great Outdoors, there may be one in your area. If you do not have a child …borrow one…just don’t loose them in said outdoors.
You can also join hiking or outdoor clubs or just a walking friend but be careful not to talk too much or there is no hush.
I am not the only artist to encounter grief, I truly wish I was, but I promised back when I started this blog I would tell you what I went through as a creative good and bad. Well my grief was so bad it took my voice and creative spark away for a while but thanks to time and care I am slowly coming back.