Like a Russian doll

Yesterday, we had a lovely SoulCollage® Studio card-making day in my garden, in the beautiful Brisbane winter sunshine. 

Last week I'd come across this lovely poem by Mark Nepo:

At Fifty-Seven.

I feel like I stumbled

down a hill of years, only

to land in a pile of my books.

Along the way I cracked

like a Russian doll, finding

something smaller and more

essential inside every version

I've known as me.

And now, when all I know

bursts into flame each time 

I try to give it away, I'm asked

what matters.

There's something perfect

in how we're worn; like sculptures

left for Spirit and wind to finish, the

film taken from our eye just as

our heart is exposed, one

crumbling into the other.

I was reminded of an image of Russian matryoshka dolls I had amongst my clippings, and yesterday I made this card:

If you'd like to find out how to discover more about yourself through making SoulCollage® cards, book in for my one-day 'Introduction to SoulCollage®' workshop next Saturday 12th. The Early Bird discount expires tomorrow night (Monday 7th).

All the details are here.