tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151936812024-03-07T15:55:36.443-08:00The Art of LifeGillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.comBlogger385125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-49767680284446600242020-10-20T14:04:00.024-07:002020-10-21T20:01:20.225-07:00Navigating Puddles of Loneliness with Leaky Boots Crikey, what a time it’s been for the whole world this year with each of us facing the challenges, horrors and, yes, even blessings of the COVID-19 pandemic.I have been taking some time off work to rest this past week, being fortunate enough to sustain employment during this time.I have not gone away for reasons of logistics, a medical appointment and public health safety. I’m okay with Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-66281564368668916862017-11-29T22:11:00.003-08:002017-11-29T22:11:58.358-08:00Justin Trudeau's Apology to LGBTFor all the people who have told me to "just get over it" this is what I have been talking about and continue to talk about because it happened and still happens here despite the laws changing and the public apologies.
Don't get me wrong, I am pleased to hear this apology finally happen for lesbian and gay people. It is the throwing open of a door that makes me weep with relief and Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-14814900138824460872017-10-15T12:22:00.001-07:002017-10-15T17:01:17.682-07:00Be Where You're At
Roses - Princess Gardens, Edinburgh
Photo: Gillian Cornwall, c. October 2015
Happiness is great. Who doesn't like being happy? The thing is, if you're not feeling happy, that's okay too. Be where you're at. Feel what you feel. Walk through it in a way that makes sense to you and in a way that is sustainable within your truth. Let's not talk about "making" people better, rather let us stand Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-3274244816708073312017-08-20T11:44:00.000-07:002017-08-20T13:09:30.349-07:00Cleansing the River Woman
Gillian Cornwall, c. October 2015
She is but a river exposed to the ways of man. There are those who have stolen from her pure banks, pillaging pirates who took what was not theirs to steal. She has risen up again and again to rid their violence from her waters and wash their hurt from this life she claims as her own and one with all. She tries. She flows. At times, she fails and hangs her Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-34466148999425826102017-07-30T14:27:00.000-07:002017-07-30T14:38:19.947-07:00Empathy
Life is a Ride
Gillian Cornwall, c. Spring 2015
Re-posted, selfishly as a reminder to me more than anything. For those of you who have not read the article, I do hope you enjoy it.
Empathy - I have been thinking about how we behave on a daily basis in our personal and professional lives. Leaders and colleagues may have a void of empathy for those around them. In a professional Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-59698532997061427442017-07-23T09:53:00.001-07:002017-07-23T09:53:28.938-07:00Let's Talk
The Hands of Time Sculpture - By Crystal Przybille
at The Empress Hotel - Victoria, BC
There is little in this world that can top a great conversation with a friend, new or old, over a cup of tea, coffee, ...beer. There is something powerful and comforting in the verbal exchange between two people. It can be likened to a restoration of the mind, a revitalization of our systems and our Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-84588848707769095992017-07-16T12:28:00.004-07:002017-07-16T12:28:48.398-07:00Fear-full
Letting Go
Garden of the Gods, Lana'i, Hawaii
Gillian Cornwall, c December 2102
How many people reading this have enough to eat every day?
How many own your homes or have a place to which you can go no matter what happens in your life?
How many of you have steady incomes or are self-employed with sufficient income?
How many of us have at least one person we an call a friend?
How Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-2315008628394896812017-07-09T13:46:00.001-07:002017-07-09T13:46:43.991-07:00Food
Fresh farm produce in exchange for work
Lana'i, Hawaii, c. 2008
Food. Sustenance. It is the fuel for our bodies, our minds and, yes, I believe, our souls. They call it soul food for a reason, right? So, why does food cause so many people so much trouble?
First, I want to acknowledge the biggest problem around the world with respect to food: hunger. Millions of people around the world, Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-9495664202651967452017-07-02T12:01:00.002-07:002017-07-02T12:01:55.376-07:00Land Tenure
Somerset, UK
Gillian Cornwall, c. September, 2015
FACT: No one owns anything, most particularly, the earth. No one owns land. The best you can be is her caretaker and, if you are gifted with this role, the mother may support you in return.
It is interesting to review the term, land tenure etymologically. When we consider the French word tenir, meaning to hold, that, in itself, Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-78611462614330270012017-06-25T11:14:00.001-07:002017-06-25T11:14:56.630-07:00It's All Good
On the way to Somerton, UK
c. Gillian Cornwall, September, 2015
"It's all good." Is it all good?How many times do we hear that phrase bantered around? If someone tells us they are sorry they were late, sorry they hurt our feelings, often we assume the best and say, "Don't worry; it's all good." Sometimes, the actions of others impact us and we feel worthless, saddened and invalidated.How doGillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-36161056365565969572017-06-18T12:49:00.002-07:002017-06-18T12:49:50.501-07:00PRIDE
Pride - as opposed to shame or social stigma. We took the word and marched with it. Pride. It's not about tolerance. No-one wants to be tolerated. It's like putting up with something irritating or bad. I don't want to be tolerated. I want to be celebrated. Every soul on this earth, all living things can be celebrated - even for one thing, even for potential. From the smallest of Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-81979645679047743372017-06-11T11:14:00.000-07:002017-06-11T11:14:53.343-07:00The Art of Language
Fog in English Bay, BC
Gillian Cornwall, c. 2009
Sarcasm: Noun. The use of irony to mock or convey contempt.
More on this word from wikipedia
Irony: Noun. The expression of one's meaning by using language that normally signifies the opposite, typically for humorous or emphatic effect.
More on this word from wikipedia
While recognized as literary tools, perhaps Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-15998046184584285922017-06-04T11:09:00.002-07:002017-06-04T11:09:46.460-07:00Despondency Epidemic
Brighton Pier, England
Gillian Cornwall, c. October, 2015
Is there such a thing as a despondency epidemic? I feel like there is.
This BBC report by David Robson from July 22, 2016 on the possible causes and impacts of exhaustion and burnout is not only something which I have experienced on and off since the 1990s as I struggle to survive in a world rocketing forward while I Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-73747360077540863312017-05-28T12:05:00.000-07:002017-05-28T13:15:14.575-07:00We Are One
Plumeria, Lana'i, Hawaii
Gillian Cornwall, c. 2012
At the risk of going all Game of Thrones on you, let's talk about being the faceless human or actually, the downside of individual identity - because I am really starting to question how it serves the one or the many.
Now, to qualify a little bit: Sure, it's just grand to be unique but I am considering that it is only great to be Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-79265322145421332832017-05-21T13:49:00.005-07:002017-05-21T19:13:59.503-07:00Rock to Sand
The Beach at Hulopoe, Lana'i Hawaii
Gillian Cornwall, c. 2012
I was born a rock, projected into this world, whole, a unity of DNA from all of those who have passed before me in the paternal lines of Cornwall and the maternal lines of Jay. I am searching back through these lines, searching for the end of the strand, knowing it lands in the cradle of the world from whence each one of Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-33237584523544876862017-05-14T10:17:00.001-07:002017-05-14T10:17:55.245-07:00Mothers Day
Me and my mum, circa, 1966/67
Cape Cod, Massachusetts
Photo by: Brian F. Cornwall
Mothers. Everyone has at least one in their lifetime. As far as I am concerned, we all have a minimum (mini-mum?) of two:
1. The mother who physically birthed us into being and
2. The great Mother Earth who has birthed everything and all of us and sustains us through the abuse she suffers at the hands of herGillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-46401400961899933352017-05-07T09:00:00.001-07:002017-05-07T09:00:20.384-07:00The Life Compassionate
A Path to Knowledge - University of Victoria
Gillian Cornwall c. 2013
I am breathing life into this article from May 2015 because I am struggling right now and I very much know what it feels like to wonder why some people lack compassion and, I think, if I am struggling, others must be as well. This is for you and for me. I am thinking of you and holding on, letting go and doing my Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-9574830924434539312017-04-30T11:59:00.001-07:002017-04-30T11:59:11.031-07:00Belonging
Swimming Alone, starring Gumby
Gillian Cornwall, c. 2010
I don't think there is a living soul who does not struggle with a sense of belonging at some time.
The interesting thing with the concept of belonging is that, by its very nature, it creates a barrier - an inside and outside. There is a concept of belonging within each of our individual relationships, be they familial, Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-38435647358793978682017-04-23T09:01:00.001-07:002017-04-23T09:01:09.078-07:00Signs of Life
Gore Park, Brentwood Bay, BC
Gillian Cornwall, c. April 25, 2015
Signs of life
in every sense -
to hear, to see,
to feel and taste
- the scent upon
the ocean breeze
Gore Park, Brentwood Bay, BC
Gillian Cornwall, c. April 25, 2015
the beating heart
in the earth
below our feet
Gore Park, Brentwood Bay, BC
Gillian Cornwall, c. April 25, 2015
she Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-16506595199079315012017-04-16T11:32:00.001-07:002017-04-16T11:32:39.139-07:00Easter
An Easter Bouquet
Gillian Cornwall, c. April 2015
Beliefs - we all have them. Our collective human history is filled with them. We base our culture and our systems on them. In some ways, they are the building blocks of our lives. They are held from perspectives - our own, that of another or our own translation of that of another.
A timely example: There is a bunny and he has a Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-17480652318993036072017-04-09T09:00:00.000-07:002017-04-09T09:00:19.468-07:00The Life of Words
The Garden Gate -West Saanich, BC
Gillian Cornwall, c. 2015
Some days it comes more easily than others, this business of writing. There are days when the pages fill as though the lines of the story are forming queues in my mind, awaiting their turn to travel from my brain down my neck, across my shoulder and down my arm and through my hand where they travel down a river of black ink in my Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-66595072798641422102017-04-02T09:00:00.000-07:002017-04-02T10:28:30.717-07:00A Woman of No Nation
On the way to Stow on the Wold
Gillian Cornwall, c. September 2015
I am a woman with her feet each on two different islands with a continent and an ocean between. I am alone, singular. I belong to no-one and I have few people near. My life lacks an embedded continuity and I have never "fit in." I have rarely had a sense of belonging and now look to it only as a sense of place in the Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-45896606663682557232017-03-26T12:05:00.000-07:002017-03-26T12:05:04.008-07:00Filling the Space
Into the Light
Gillian Cornwall, c. 2015
I am posting this again because I know I have gone off the rails again with an inability to balance, to stop, to breathe and to pay attention where attention is due, to this gift of life.
I eat to fill the space
that once was filled with a whole me.
I yearn for sleep that lasts
more than
two
hours
at
a
time.
The Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-66897154796059663582017-03-19T11:09:00.000-07:002017-03-19T11:12:32.202-07:00Renewal
Light Unfolds from the Winter Darkness
Gillian Cornwall, c. March 2016
This Spring, let go. Put down that which is not yours to carry. This is the season of renewal and rebirth - a chance to reinvent yourself. You owe no debt of servitude to another soul. You are unique and whole and perfect on your path. Respect all women for they are the life-givers and must be celebrated for Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15193681.post-76744617295786237492017-03-12T12:55:00.000-07:002017-03-12T12:55:24.710-07:00On Writing
Russell's Books
Gillian Cornwall, c. 2015
"Show me!" I beg the page. I coax it forth with my pen, massaging word upon word unto the paper or, hands hovering over the keys as though it were some mystical Ouija Board, spiriting the truth from the world beyond.
"I believe you!" This is what I say to the universal energy, for whom I am made the conduit of my stories. For it cannot be Gillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07299013182300335255noreply@blogger.com0