It's no secret I live
in an imaginary world.
As a child it was survival,
and now it's a choice.
Others are rarely invited,
as by necessity one's imaginary world
is a sacred place.
To get there, you have to follow
the yellow brick road,
or eat through a doorway
made of porridge, or say, "open sesame".
Deb Obilby's studio assistant.
How delightful to be invited
into Julie Arkell's enchanted world,
and discover others
with their magical friends.
Some are born into this world
with one foot in the other,
with a kind of permeability
allowing them to glide between.
Julie's brooch summed it up
As most magical people know,
the test is to remain functional.
Some have such delicate fragile skins,
the world simply is too much.
The volume is too high,
and intensity shatters the soul.
In some places the sensitive ones are shamans,
revered for the gift of permeability.
Others are not so recognised.
The trick is to return from
the other place with the magic;
with the golden egg, or fleece, or ring
and plant the enchanted beans.
One by one,
we were invited to each other's special place,
and introduced to the friends residing there.
Barbara's world was rich in color and frivolity.
Clare's world was full of song and chaotic,
but held great charm.
Colleen Darling is the mastermind
behind Michael De Meng's famous workshops
in Mexico for the Day of the Dead.
Her world was rich in deeper meaning.
We were safe in Julie's world
creating puppets and bunting.
Our child selves came out to play.
Mary Alice's puppet had magical hair
and a wonderful dress.
Sarah's face lit up
as her bunny told the story.
Anna's puppet reflected
her own good taste in clothes.
was the centre of his own world,
dressed to the nines.
Of them all, Vera was my favourite.
An undertaker by trade,
a widow with a broad accent
and even broader heart.
Her tomcat puppet said the most
outrageous things and argued with her.
Susan Halme is a baker.
Her delicious world was full of pastry and iced delights.
Not satisfied with making a puppet,
she created an entire wedding cake as well.
Deb invited us to her world,
welcoming in the Shabbat
on Friday night.
If you dig deep enough
into our western faith,
most of our rituals are patch worked
from the Jewish faith
and parts of
for the Lord's prayer
gain their protective power
from Jewish provenance.
Then there was the reclusive
Named after the Catholic patron saint
of my birthday.
lives high on a mountain,
overlooking a small village and all it's goings on.
A fall from the nest as a baby raven
left a bald patch on his head,
which he disguises with an old kid glove.
It's best to ignore that whenever invited to his
hermit like retreat for afternoon tea.
Monsieur Rodruigez has sharp senses
and knows much.
Many come for advice which he rarely gives.
Instead he pours them French Earl Grey tea
from the Maraige Freres
and serves macaroons with buttercup jam.
It was a privilege to
be invited into Julie's world,
held strong for us
by her own faith in
buttercup jam and
the sketching of shipwrecks on the beach.
brooch by Julie Arkell
From Julie Arkell's workshop
I returned with the magic beans.
Faith restored, re affirming that
living in my own world is not only
necessary, it's where I function best.
brooch by Julie Arkell
I am blessed with many dear friends
who totally get this. Those who don't
will discover their special world
Next time you meet a person
who might live in other worlds, be kind.
Walk a mile in their bunny slippers
before you judge.
They probably know things.