All things being equal

    Tree Glow | Suzanne McDermott Watercolor

What with Mercury going direct, waking up a bit too late this morning, and starting up this transformed blog today, I almost forgot that it's the Autumnal Equinox. This topic deserves a nice, juicy, long post but I'll just throw a few brief thoughts out to acknowledge and honor this oh, so important moment of the year.

Here's what I'm doing:

  • Writing this blog post!
  • Reading this National Geographic article.
  • Lighting a candle and
  • Some sandalwood incense*, too! (Okay, just did both.)
  • Give thanks for the summer and all that we learned from that season this year.
  • Ask for blessings and clear direction in how I may now best serve earth and my fellow earthlings
  • with special intentions
  • Go out and touch the earth
  • Feed my azaleas

Those are my quick tips for today's Equinox except to turn you on to my favorite incense! (See below.)

*The BEST sandalwood incense in the world is Mainichi Byakudan Premium Sandalwood Incense. I discovered this incense in a fabulous home and garden shop in Providence, Rhode Island about ten years ago. It spoiled me and is the only incense I've ever bought or used since. Pure, woodless, rolled by hand, it's expensive but worth it.


Things are changing. But you know that.

In 2006, I started this blog as a watercolor artist and kept up that show and tell for about six years till I moved from my home and beloved studio in Nashville, TN. What ensued was an odyssey of sorts but that's another story.

I kept up with intermittent posts excerpted from weekly missives to my mailing list illustrated by my drawings and watercolors. Those posts stopped, more or less, when I succumbed to a series of health issues at the start of 2015. I'm much better now, thank you.

Jonesing for a new writing discipline and an outlet for my healing work, I've toyed with starting alternate blogs and platforms but have finally decided to pick up here where I left off because this virtual real estate is established, deeded in my name and why move if I don't have to? I'll fiddle with the design and decoration, how I'll illustrate these posts, with what's previously been posted and, eventually, this transformed blog will settle into its own gestalt.

Here in Raleigh, North Carolina, much needed rain is falling, quenching exhausted earth after relentless heat and sun for most of the summer.

Over this past weekend, I reconstructed my garden, pulled out remains of the poor summer veggies, spent a stupid amount of money on dirt, amended that dirt with lime and other goodies then planted sugar peas, rainbow carrots, baby carrots, Romaine lettuce, French baby leeks, Russian Kale, Lacinato Kale and Italian parsley. The new cuke crop is already started. The rain arrives with perfect timing.

It's fitting that I reawaken this blog as the seeds in my garden germinate and I'm intentionally scheduling this to coincide with Mercury going direct.

Sure, I'm still making watercolors and teaching drawing and watercolor. I just finished a lengthy illustration project and book design. But what I'm really interested in—or called to do—is to develop and expand my healing practice. Of course, my music, songs, watercolors and teaching have been conduits for healing in their own ways but each of those forms of expression have played the starring role. Now I am putting healing front and center.

That is what this transformed blog is all about. Healing. I am writing (teaching, coaching) on healing from a creative perspective, calling on extensive experience with a myriad of tools, traditions, modalities, via a long list of teachers, trainings and personal trial and error. My intention is to empower you to heal yourself. This is nothing new, I'm just formally, publicly, claiming this place as a healing space before I proceed—mostly as a way to put my own ass in gear and get going with this project.  As a matter of fact, in my ten years of blogging, my most popular post, hands down, on any of my (many) blogs is "How to heal your fractured foot and ankle: an artist's guide."

In a way, I'm picking up where I left off and yet, it feels as though I am starting something new. I feel less wishy-washy about what I'm doing as a healer, more confident. The essence of what I am doing is not so different and yet the vessel, the form is new. And that, my friends, is the definition of transformation.

Thunder rolls. More later. Love. Soon.