Thursday, October 27, 2022

A Victorian 1885 October At Sea



Hello, dear friends, 

Good morning from lovely beautiful, and sunny Florida. Here's a sweet photo of my beach. There's a quiet little bench cradled between two stilt homes, and if one is mannerly and respectful, the homeowners will allow the resting upon to appreciate the waving sounds of bliss. The beach has always been a tonic for this ole bygone Weeki Wachee Springs mermaid. I love to beach comb also. I have collected shells for nearly all of my life. If you ever purchased one of my paintings, you'll remember I slipped a small shell wrapped up in a little brown painter's paper bundle. 

In 2015 when I ran away (back home) for a respite, I would drive my mum's little chariot and sit on the bench in the picture above. I had a broken heart, yet not shattered because I had a forlorn temperament for how love went wrong. My story isn't like many love romance stories. Actually, I was happiest I had broken out; if you want the truth. I was severe on the sex and finished with men. I was quietly tending to matters as I had plenty to occupy myself when unexpectedly, I found myself (twin flame) attracted to Jeffrey Shawn. But then again, I am getting ahead of myself. I'm writing a book all about it. I know I've written oodles here on ye olde blog, however it'll be nice to have it in chronological form. It is a love story (about my dearly beloved Jeffrey), a life story and a self-development/ mindset book. It's so many things all wrapped into one. You may have heard me speak about it from the title The Little Mermaid's Transformational Tale.
 
I plan to write and paint it, as Susan Branch did for her book The Fairy Tale Girl, yet with my snarling slice of mermaid twist. 

It may sound to some as though it's a sad tale; however, that is life, and for a book to be good and best, I think It's vital to obtain all the nitty gritty bits and bobs, don't you agree? I have no regrets about how my story has turned out thus far; it's actually a lovely story if you were to ask me. My book will most assuredly explain in the most delightful and hopeful way how a person can turn something terrible into something lovely. As young girls in love, we are starry-eyed at the start, especially in those first relationships. We're entirely naive. An exceptional illustration of naivety is Keira Knightly, starring in the movie The Duchess (2008).
Let us not fret any longer and get on with the pleasurable portions of this post by telling you what I have been up to as of late—well, mostly sketching and dreaming about all the enjoyable days of splashing in paint. I am pleased to write and paint books for your dear hearts. I've been thinking about you and where to have book signings, what to do to make them unique, and how much I can't wait to meet you all, that have supported me so lovingly. The Tale of Sawyer Lamb and The Tale of the Christmas Bunnies comes out next month (November 25, 2022), and I want to make it spectacular. I want to take questions, as when I would have little author tea parties. The children would have time to ask questions after I read my story to them. The children were so fascinated and always wanted to know all manner of details about being a real-life (Weeki Wachee Springs) mermaid. After they wrote down questions, I put them in a message bottle. I also want to order some delightful fancy candy from England as giveaways to go with Sawyers's book, chocolate and lemon drops in little sack bundles, precisely as in the story.


What else have I been up to as of late? A little nesting, cleaning, organising and purging olde items such as clothing and things that are no longer serving the new version of me, playing in the garden, sketching ways to add onto the cottage, plotting the rose garden, drinking loads of tea and filling vases up with fresh cut flowers. Oh, and one of the most fun things Jeffrey and I love is to work in the garden together. This weekend we will be planting nine boxwood (in addition to the ones we've already added and the two topiaries) and about nine Viburnum (variety is suspensum) all along to cover the air conditioner on the side of my parent's home. I'll post some pictures when they're all planted. 


I've been slowly transitioning my photos to a sepia tone or black and white on Instagram. It creates a more authentic aesthetic that I'm setting in motion with my business branding. I tend to love it; however, for those who adore colour, I also add colour photos to be admired when you slide the images. 

As always, I am Taking Joy and remaining on the sunny side of life. Here are a few pretty pictures of the peer near our home when Jeffrey and I went for a walk along the beach. 

Most affably yours til my next swim, Raquelxxx

Sunday, October 23, 2022

A Bit Of Writing Advice, The Process Of Writing And A Few Personal Stories From My Past

My dear hearts,

This post is quite nefarious, and to protect the innocent {wink} is the reason for it being behind a paid wall. I am also near completion on the victorian sofa project, and it will be published on Patreon before the month of October is over.

I've taken to the new madcap adventure of publishing two of my children's books within three fortnights and the self-imposed deadline to publish a book a month. Are ye mad, Lady Carter? Conceivably or am I a trade intellectual? Join Patreon

Tuesday, October 18, 2022

Darling, It's All In Your Head And My Epiphany For The Tale Of Sawyer Lamb


Firstly, dear hearts, allow me to embark and perform a bit of housekeeping by saying how appreciative I am for your friendships that I have engendered here on my blog. Of course, I am finely aware we have not met in person; however, I feel a sincere fondness and look upon you each as actual friends.


When my dear son (Sawyer) departed, and I went through my bereavement, I developed such loving friends who budded in intimacy here on this small snippet of the befangled interweb. When I had my conundrum with my British friend Tracy, I shared with a relation of my struggle of how, unfortunate; she chose to remove herself as a friend (which remains me unaware and befuddled as to why she unfriended me); they said to me, "who cares, Raquel? You don't know those folks reading your blog or on Instagram; good riddance." I beg to differ. I said, " Oh no, I feel very close to those on Instagram and who read my blog. I consider them my friends.


I have some exhilarating news. I am releasing my two books (hardbacks), The Tale of Sawyer Lamb and The Tale of the Christmas Bunnies, on November 25, 2022. I have been feverishly toiling away at illustrations for Sawyer's book; next week, I will begin painting both books of drawings. I also plan to release a book a month forthwith.


After several years of emotionally remaining on the hamster wheel, my daylight thoughts were no longer washing away my night thoughts. I felt I was losing my faculties, so I petitioned the universe to send an answer to assist me. If I were hindering my personal growth of success (pride goeth before the fall), I desired the solution. That exact intention is what I gave birth to a fortnight ago. I knew intuitively I was keeping myself from progressing, yet I did not know how to unlock it. I was not allowing for advancement, and I understood that perhaps my strategy must also pivot. This next portion of the story is about how the universe works. I've known and have loved Russ (the rap artist) for many years. (In fact, Sawyer and I loved his work. I remember Sawyer would study his strategies for success in the music industry.) However, I do not follow celebrities on my Instagram platform or spend too much time on the app. Yet, last week Instagram algorithm suggested a reel of Russ speaking about positivity and self-worth, so I clicked on his account and learned that he had in his highlight section a book he wrote. I immediately bought it because I knew it must be positive; I enjoy supporting independent artists. I read the book in less than 40 minutes (it's an easy but profound book) and then read it twice further. I highly recommend Russ's book if you want a little grit in your literary diet. It's All in Your Head by Russ, and a few lightbulb moments went off, and I instantly felt enlightened that was the answer to my earlier intention that I had sent out into the universe. I wish to share the mermaid secrets revealed, and you might benefit at some juncture down the lane.


In the last fortnight, I have been self-reflecting my view on my circumstances as an author/ artist, and why my success has not erupted to the degree, I foresee. It has not been for lack of enjoying the process or my work ethic. The work determined resilience never has nor will ever be my dilemma, so I knew it had to be something I wasn't recognising. I am endlessly in love with my craft, which will never change. However, I realised I was also aimless and reluctant to send Sawyer's book into the world. I began to notice I would feel quite vexed when I progressed to the book's completion and then would become highly fatigued. As I am known to do (ask any of my relations), I conducted internal self-concept work to uncover my hesitancy.


I then allowed the waves of spirit to guide me after making my intention with a deep desire to be a vessel for bringing forth good and healing into the world. This desire is my life purpose as an author and artist, and I know this truth deep within my core. I am kind-hearted to myself as I know I needed a soft place to land while grieving my son's death. However, I am so profoundly determined and fueled to create a legacy for my son and the world over I will not let anything prevent me from vast success to be a force for good which I desire to linger in this world long after my departure. If needs be, I will plough the door down with my success in authorship.


Jeffrey Shawn and I have benefited from living with my folks, and they, in return, also profited, although intuitively, I feel the cycle is dropping anchor to a close for Jeffrey and me. We will be on madcap adventures in the new year. It's not always best to reveal one's circumstances, yet, I am very accessible when it pertains to sharing mermaid secrets in the sand if I feel my conscious prompts me, which, let us admit, I'm one to be spurred on at frequency.


In all earnestness, I share the start, middle and (eventually the end) because not many folks discover a voyage reference in life for achieving their success. It's as though many cloak their methods in vaults which does no favour for those labouring away at their dreams. When someone does not have a reference raft to seize hold, it will require lengthier intervals. I feel it a travesty to withhold secrets to success. It's similar to many very acclaimed celebrities who possess vast platforms, and they do nothing with them to make the world a better place. I want to question their motives, as they seem to be self-serving and ultimately worthless if we're speaking long-term in leaving a footprint of expansion and progress in a positive way.

Allow me the opportunity to share a few particulars I discovered about myself after reading Russ's book for the third time. Before I got on, I felt inspired by how Russ used each chapter of his book with a song title, so in a fashionable way, as Austin Kleon would say of Steal Like an Artist; I think I will do similar but use my book titles for my self-help book coming out next year. In part two, Persistence, Pull the Trigger, Russ speaks on hesitation (move with purpose), and behind hesitancy is fear. Upon reading the line in the book, I felt somewhat gobsmacked, as I wouldn't have thought myself in possession of even an ounce of fear. After reading that text over three times, it popped off of the pages as if illumination in fluorescent light. I am transparent and truthful with myself and confidently aware when the truth is staring me square in the eyes. I then, at that moment, realised, indeed, I was fearful of releasing Sawyer's book into the world as I had such deep sentiments tethered to his beautiful book.


I want it to help multitudes of people, and if that did not happen (it's all in my head), the prospect rendered me frozen in fear, and I would be gravely disappointed. I have grief, healing, pain, happiness, joy, and hope tied into his book. Each time I thought about releasing it, I felt loss and apprehension. In my head, It was as if I were letting go of my son, and that sentiment in my craw seemed unbearable to swallow. I know you can understand my sensations if you've ever lost a child. I also realised I have the personal capability to decide what definitions I am applying to each scenario in my life. Russ often states in his book; It's All in Your (my) Head. The first was my hesitation; the second bit of profundity is the journey and bounce back in Part three. I define success as knowing that my success is renewable; it's not a matter of IF my work is successful; it is a matter of WHEN it is successful. The details of how I will give rise to success are not my concern but the universe's. Among the many feathers in my cap is that I am a mindset coach, yet frequently when one is so into their vocation, they can miss the message for themselves. Often one cannot see the forest for the trees.


I can pinpoint every individual's difficulty I've ever worked with, but it is unknown when I attempt such declarations for myself. Zoë Kennedy told me when I read The Tale of Sawyer Lamb manuscript to her, my book helped her more than anything ever had, and that makes it all worth it; I've done my bit. The witty notion is that I did know that intellectually but perhaps not profoundly believe it at the time; nonetheless, today, with a fresh perspective, I do, at my core, know it without an ounce of doubt. The truth universally fixed in manifestation is to get out of our own way. Too often (and in a few distinct areas of my life), I have enormous resistance, and I can beat myself about the head by remaining in the way of the universe. If I can not let go and allow things, I am the one keeping myself from my dreams. Most often, folks push forward by trying to hammer a round peg into a square wooden hole. 


To live in a state of urgency is something I know well. After losing Sawyer, I understood that nothing or anyone is definitive, and I do not take anything for granted. To remain untethered in how we feel things should evolve is a complicated matter for humans. One must remain faithful and know without a doubt that; what we are diligently toiling away at IS at hand. Reminding oneself it will occur today, and if not today, tomorrow. There is no weighing that course; it is a matter of time. I keep no room in my mind for maybe.


One bit of debilitation is when a person self-talks by repeating, "I am going to do so and so." The word "going to" will perpetually keep one's dreams outside of achievement. I console myself with waiting because I want so much for my book to help millions of folks. However, that won't happen if I sit on the story and do not release it. So today, I got out of my way. I can now pass on the temptations to put off and override to the quiet calm without further loss of time. 



Most affably yours til my next swim, Raquelxxx

Friday, October 14, 2022

A Brilliant Manifesting Story And My Love Of Laura Ingalls Wilder

I had the entirety of a post of over three thousand words written for you, my dear lovely friends, and lost the totality. When I realised there wasn't a cat's chance in hell without claws of finding it, I must admit I got the morbs for a moment. However, I now feel sufficient, so let me get on with the post.

First, allow me to share a lovely manifesting story. I have thousands; however, it is very tricky to share all of them. Yet, I think you would like to hear the one about my daughter Zoë Kennedy. Zoë Kennedy rang me a week ago and asked if I would manifest for her. As a child, I took her to The Phantom of the Opera in Orlando, Florida, and she loved it so much it created an affinity for the broadway musical, and she eternally wished to go to the one in New York City. In February of 2023, the musical will end permanently, embarking on Zoë Kennedy to see it beforehand. Unfortunately, she had no financial means of getting opera tickets, airfare or lodgings. So, I said I would manifest for her, we hung up the phone, and I performed the visual technique before state akin to sleep I use from Neville Goddard. 

The manifestation took a week to materialise. Zoë Kennedy called me last Friday and said she was gifted round-trip airline tickets to New York, two tickets front row mezzanine to Phantom of the Opera and that she and Ethan's friends that live in New York invited them to crash at their flat for free for their week's visit. She said, "Mummy, thank you so much; you're magical!" She was so excited, and I am thrilled for her in turn! I love hearing success stories when I manifest for others. It thrills me. It costs nothing and is available to everyone to create their reality. 

I was a late bloomer growing up. However, when it concerns my love of Laura Ingall's Wilder, there is no question I have an immense fondness for her. As many of you know who've remained avid readers of my blog know, I grew up with two parents in the home. My father stayed in a constant state of slosh til I was eleven (No worries we’re very good now). My devoutly religious mum was a stay-at-home mother. I have no complaints; my mother sheltered me to the degree that she kept my siblings and me in church three times a week and two solid weeks when there were revivals and church activities. (Of course, as you know, I was Pentecostal until seventeen and later became a Mormon until I left theology altogether at forty-three.) 

My mum, a stay-at-home mother, was rather keen on us children being very smart, which meant reading was essential. So when I was young, I looked forward to the book fair order forms. Do you remember them? Before the fair even happened, the excitement commenced with the order forms. I would scour over it for hours, dreaming of all the books I wished to order. I would mark them in pencil at first, then in pen. Money in our home was plentiful at times and meagre at others, depending on spending habits that month. I believe many folks come from backgrounds that were not episodes of Little House on the Prairie having fathers like Pa. Perhaps that was the appeal as a little girl.

My father was in the home during my youth; however, he wasn't an emotional role model; in truth, I developed trust and men issues that would expand considerably for decades. In many ways, I raised my children with similar functions. The female figures (mothers) I remember being raised amongst were not respected, including my mother. The men ruled the roost. Today my independence and desire to be a powerful force in the female facet of this generational society is highly due to feeling downtrodden. My standpoint on ladies' value, being adored and respected, is vital. One shan't get it contorted; I find the role of a man in society (and in the home) quite significant too, yet there is no one above or below; we are all one. Men have their place, as does woman. They both work beautifully together when on equal footing. Many parents in the seventies (when I grew up), I believe, tried their best and were well-intended; that's all I can hope for, and I will continue onward. I refuse to reference my circumstances as perpetuating grim stories of my lot unless diving to depths of understanding and presenting logic facilitates growth. Too often, that state of woe is when too much emphasis is placed on victimhood memorialising. 

To try and fill in the backstory about Laura Ingalls Wilder, I'll have to take you back to when the fixation first began. I've spoken briefly in other posts about my neighbours from childhood that lived down the lane. They lived as close to the little house on the Prairie in real life, not by their desire to live old-fashioned. I know it was their poor mindset mentality, yet I never viewed them in that manner. I loved the sentiments when I'd feed (wood they cut themselves) Kate's 19th-century stove. They didn't have indoor plumbing; instead, they had an outhouse, gardens, a stream for water sources, fruit trees, and farm animals. I didn't particularly appreciate watching the slaughtering of the pigs or killing the chickens; however, knowing how food was obtained created newfound respect for it. I know it's a part of real life; however, i am a sentimental fool and wholly sensitive. As I would make my way to my neighbours nearly every day, I would also look forward to watching Little House on the Prairie. I was not only fascinated with the storylines, but I was more intrigued by intentionally focusing on the little house and barn, how they dressed and what everything looked like as a whole. I was enamoured with it, obsessed. I checked out the entire series of books, and as soon as I read through them, I continued that strategy over and over. I then began mimicking Laura; the schoolchildren thought I was mad, though I didn't care. I've always held a disposition of heaped delusional confidence. 

I would surround myself as much as possible (mainly my clothing) by emulating that historical aspect through my junior high school days. i recall my friend Cindi (she was very modern, and the boys were quite fond of her) said to me often, "Raquel, you need a makeover. You're such a pretty girl, but you wear those old clothes so no one can see how attractive you are." 

I never cared she said that; in junior high, however, I succumbed to the peer pressure when my cousin (who was much older than me) said I needed to get with the times and going into high school, I needed a fresh new look. I surrendered. Often surrendering occurs in youth because insecure youth want to fit in; I wasn't secure enough to stave off the new school and loads of teenagers, nor did I want to be rejected. I yielded. I would teleport into Laura Ingalls's ways for decades in and out, trying to return to that feeling when a little girl but never gaining much footing. I was constantly battling my true self and what I loved and felt comfortable with for many years.

I didn't have the luxury of having a mate that supported my fondness for nostalgia, olde timey ways, antiques or history. I was ridiculed for it if you want the truth. I look back and honestly feel it was a cloaked structure of vitriol. Mistreatment can be masked for lengthy periods when physically concealed; it's the subtle behind-closed doors of continuous verbal poking. In hindsight, I justified the abuse because he wasn't outright punching me; I assumed there was no abuse. I had seen my father abuse; that was no question. However, it took on a different appearance as an adult. When I began to question such matters, I repeatedly heard I was mentally ill, crazy and needed help. My family has a history of mental illness. That truth was weaponised against me. I am very far from mad.

My apologies; this is not a victimhood post, yet I wanted to catch you up with my past life and where I came from and to make you aware I am not ashamed. The truth sets a person free, and when one remains vulnerable, there are no defences. No defences, and no one ever will possess an advantage of leverage. I live by this truth well-fixed.

I have not an ounce of animosity towards those that have been unfortunately unhealthy to me; I am Indifferent, life is, and I know the universe has a karmic vindication debt of retribution. I believe greatly in the boomerang effect. Let's end this post with the inclination that on any given day, I wouldn't fancy them an invite to tea. 

Most affably yours til my next swim, Raquelxxx

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