whimsicweaver

Latest Posts by whimsicweaver

The Spirit of Adventure

I was pondering about the spirit or nature of adventure; of play. And I think play is such an integral aspect within one's lifestyle but it is often suppressed with more work, more productivity—play is met with this subconscious mindset of needing to do more so we can possibly "earn" it. But play is not something to be earned necessarily. Play has always been more than a pass time...it is a basic necessity. It naturally invokes curiosity, exploration and this is how we stumble upon some of the most beautiful and unique experiences or discoveries in our lives. Think about it...when playing video games, often times along the way, we stumble upon secret achievements or hidden rewards for being playful; being silly. And often times, these are achievements we do not expect or foresee but they spark such joy and delight within oneself. Sometimes wandering off and exploring a game map culminates all these fulfilling side quests—throwing that random basketball into the oh-so-conveniently placed hoop, popping that misplaced balloon with a spiky ball you collected a minute ago or crawling into that weird space that's shaped oddly similar to the size of your in-game avatar. And what do we receive for our random spark of curiosity...? A reward. And other times we may receive or discover absolutely nothing special but at least we'd have something to giggle about and more to explore. I find that very precious. That feeling of limitless potential...that anything is possible if I at least try. To be able to allow oneself to venture into the unknown at times and let oneself be led by curiosity and playfulness is something we all need to some degree in our lives. I've found that life is filled with many of such side quests that, in hindsight, leave an irreplaceable impression—these experiences are truly invaluable.

~Elunara W.

The Magic, the Wand and the Wielder

What if we have been the magicians of our own lives all along~? Think about it. When a magician performs magic, a wave of a hand or wand seems to make something appear from seemingly "nowhere". We all have this ability within us. We conjure up all these ideas, thoughts, concepts from this astral space and are able to ground these ideas from the ethers to the 3D. That's our magic. We perform this magic act in many ways whether we choose to compose a song, write a story, design or craft something...we are the magic. Our vessel and talents are the magic wand through which we channel and carry out these spells. The action oriented vehicle for that magic. And overall...? We are the wielders of our personal magic, we get to decide how we wield our power. We are limitless; we have access to infinite potential within the very calluses of our hands or the abstract space of our minds. I think that's personally very inspiring...you are the magician of your life...a creator.

~Elunara W.

The Mirror's Role

Perhaps we owe the mirror an apology. It was made for us to reflect with ourselves not to compare or degrade ourselves. The mirror exists to reflect the truest perception that we hold of ourselves therefore creating the reality around those beliefs. If we never had the mirror, many people say we'd have an easier time accepting ourselves and that can be true…if it never existed it'd surely make for an easier time removing that attachment to a physical lens we have but that's not the higher truth…the mirror shows us what we see and tell ourselves. The mirror has probably been the easiest target for the role of a scapegoat as we don't always like to face ourselves nor our truths…so we've projected a lot of resentment, hatred, anger towards something we created with our own hands. Our own creation suffered at the hands of its creator because we couldn't bare to give up our attachment to self-loathing. It's not our fault, nor is it the mirror's but in the end we are responsible for removing that distortion and for seeing who and what we are in all our glory; the good, evil, beautiful, ugly, everything.

~Elunara W.

Joy Sullivan, “Want", Instructions for Traveling West

wait i'm literally living the life my female ancestors dreamed of i can't waste it

Fear and Ignorance

Knowledge Know- represents an awareness of something Ledge- a narrow horizontal surface projecting from a wall 'Know' + 'Ledge' = being aware that what you seem to know may still be very narrow sighted | it's an opportunity to expand oneself ⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆♡⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆♡⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆♡⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆☾⋆⁺₊ We sometimes fear what we do not know. Ignorance is really just a lack of knowledge in a certain area of life and that creates fear within us but should we always allow this fear-based ignorance to lead? Maybe we're one or two curious questions away from leaning into a whole new perspective that truly inspires our life found within the very things we refuse to look at. I think we rather stay ignorant because we are afraid of the very real possibility that we've been living in a world of illusion. We are scared to give up all that we've ever known...because we are, at times, more comfortable with our current "truths" I have been exploring the state of ignorance for a little while and I don't believe ignorance is an inherently bad state of mind to have. I think ignorance is yet another tool we use and it is necessary to have in certain cases. However, fear-based ignorance can lead to more dangerous choices and consequences. That's why I think curiosity can be a helpful elixir to curb some of the ignorance rooted in fear and a lack of knowledge. ~Elunara W.

Through My Mother's Eyes

tw// mentions of blood and slaughter (not graphically described) Sometimes, I look into my mother's eyes and I wonder what she truly sees? Does she see me or the sight of a little girl who once was free? A girl that soon was forced to clumsily grow up under the weight of familial expectations beyond extreme. Sometimes, I look into my mother's eyes and I wonder, I truly wonder what my mother sees when she looks at me.

Am I still her precious little girl? One created from the most delicate of flower petals, the warmth of the first rays of dawn, the patience of a familiar ordinary thing—a World's Best Mom mug. Maybe. Or does she perhaps see me as an accommodation? One I know her heart made room in a tight life; a difficult space to receive. Another burden. Maybe she sees a silly little girl handed not one, nor two, nor three…but six toddlers to take care of. Of course, still not yet counting all the other little children playing in oversized adult suits.

Sometimes, I look into my mother's eyes and I wonder what she truly sees? Perhaps I was being too soft, too idealistic with my words before. Maybe she sees me as the inconvenience I know I am to her somewhere deep down. A culmination of early regrets, a dozen of 'too soons', a handful of 'not readys', a pinch of resentment and a drink of guilt induced apologies to wash it all down.

What should I feel guilty for this time, mother? Your husband's indifference, your mother's relentless disappointment, the dreams you had to give up, the weight of the world you have been insistent on carrying? Perhaps I should apologize for being your only daughter.

What should I feel guilty for today mother? Just let me know. Because everytime I look in your eyes, I see the sweetest little girl who would serve her heart on a platter if it means another person could have one more moment to feel the comforting beating. I see a little body trembling but oh so filled with determination–to get this right; to bring everyone along even if it means pushing a boulder uphill. She wants to get this right. She needs to get this right.

But do you know mother, that when I look into your eyes I see nothing but a little girl deserving of tender love? A girl I would sacrifice my own heart for if it means she would get another moment to stay her curious and wonderful self. So what should I feel guilty for this time mother? Just let me know. Because although in your eyes, I may be a sacrificial lamb upon an altar of shame and guilt that was never yours to carry, I would still allow you to slaughter me upon that altar. Maybe the warmth of my blood would comfort you—maybe that warmth would finally reach you. Or perhaps it would touch the hands of all the women prior, who suffered the same fate as you.

To be fair, I indeed do not know; I am pondering after all. This can be full of assumptions, illusions or maybe some truths. One thing I do know is I would continuously extend my hand of unconditional love towards that little girl even in death for she deserves the world. If only you'd finally let her see it too.

~Elunara W.

2007-07-29

if you can pray. if you can love. if you can create. if you can share. you are blessed.

The Return

"Nothing was wrong with you for having such faith or belief in things...the friends we do not see all the time with our physical eyes. Nothing was wrong about you believing you have enough love to create the dream world we wanted to live in eventually. Nothing was wrong about you not finding other things ugly. Nothing was wrong with you for always believing that when it comes to love...nothing is entirely impossible. You were always right...you were always sweet, you were also quite fearless because you were free. You were you...but at some point we all started to tell you that's not reality and that could never be reality and all those things that felt like you deserved them...? Oh no...that must be too good to be true because 'magic isn't reality'...that 'this is not a fairytale' and I am so sorry we did that to you. I am sorry we ripped off your wings and told you to grow up and grow a new pair made of the heaviest stones and steel. They were never meant to be ripped off in the first place so I carefully removed all the hard surfaces and one day I stumbled upon the little flaps of delicate, sparkly wings still remaining underneath...tender to the touch. And I helped you weave a new pair...magical wings sewn with the thread of love, compassion and warmth and told you to fly again...let's go create the world we've always known...show me again that world we always believed in. You smiled at me and I was a bit wary if I had done enough, if I sewed the wings good enough...if everything—anything that I had done to help you was...enough. Yet...you beamed at me, pulled me down and placed a crown of the finest flowers on top my head and you held my hand and said 'Let's go...I've been waiting, I knew one day you'd return' And within those words I gained a lot of strength...I gained so much more that others may not be able to fathom it." ~Elunara W. | [Written 03/12/24]

—Short excerpt from a letter I wrote to my inner child.

'The Record Keepers' | 26/03/25

Weekly Artsy Post inspired by the wise spirit of dragonflies~ ~whimsicweaver

The Wisps of Life

We sat, it was both of us alone in there. I asked, “Do you regret it, do you regret any of it at all?” She stared at me with an almost unreadable smile As if—as if I already knew the answers to that. As if we both knew the answer to that question.

“Not really,” she laughed with this carefree spirit. Head tilted back with uncontained mirth and all. I wondered briefly if the shadows of life had ever truly graced her, Or had the upturns of her lips tasted the weight of the world exponentially. Perhaps one too many times—one too many.

Our eyes locked and for a split second, I saw it. The intricately woven tapestry of life—threads of gold beyond the void. Clumsy fingers red and sore from the unexpected thorns and pricks. I understood it all. I smiled in return, of course she had, I’d know that more than anyone, wouldn’t I?

“Do you regret any of it at all?” there’s a knowing glint in her kind eyes. Brief memories of cold eyes, wet pillows, sleepless nights, homesickness. Suffocating silence, tearful letters, words—so many words left unsaid. Tremors of an empty stomach, deepening shadows, the complete isolation. That dreadful feeling of being too different, the unforeseen weight of generations prior.

Yet—I’ve always known something else. Something more, something warmer.

There’s a faint but steady pulse against where my hand lays on my chest. Tearful laughter, wind in my hair, dirt under my feet, chirping of birds every dawn, Clammy hands in mine, a comforting shoulder, broken facades, the gentle whisper of weary but hopeful hearts connecting, the glimmers of hope—gold amongst the dark. I breathed in, then out and suddenly as our eyes met again, I knew. I was alive.

Reaching out, cold meeting warm, our palms connected for a moment in time, “No, not really,” I echoed with a giggle, pulling away a second later. I got up, facing away, sore hands reaching out towards the cold doorknob now. As the cold surface thawed against the heat of my palms, I took one glance back. A foggy handprint, the only remnant of our brief moment shared together. ~Elunara W.

My Diary Friend

“And most may say the life of being a diary friend is uncertain and possibly unfair but my little girl just really needs me here. So here I’ll always stay for a long, long time until we meet again for a giggle, cry or even her cute little smile.” Connecting to the heart of my precious Journal~ I have personally always loved to journal ever since I was a little young Earthling and I've viewed my journal as a very close bestfriend; an extension of myself. My journal or diary has always provided me a safe haven and I'm proud to say that they've been the prime guardian of my inner child's heart and our dreams. It may be silly from an external perspective, calling my journal a friend but it's another subtle form of unconditional love that exists within my reality and for that I am most grateful.

~Elunara W.

Finding the Glimmers in my Personal Glums Pt. 1

I like to journal and note down all the little moments of magic I experience in my day-to-day life; I call these moments glimmers. Although very simple, they make me the most joyful and remind me of the gratitude that I have to be able to experience this magical life that I am living. It reminds me of the true magic we already have around us. While pondering on those moments in my glimmer logs recently, it sparked an idea with my introspection process. I wondered...what if I found the glimmers in not only my external and internal world but within the perceived flaws I have about myself; I now call these my glums (which I find absolutely adorable to say hehe). Sometimes I can still be quite harsh with myself based on my areas of weakness, though my inner voice has grown much more compassionate and even softer through the years which I am beyond grateful for. This is why I wanted to go a little deeper and really question my perceived flaws that may be hiding some of my most powerful inner strengths. Hence, the idea of finding the glimmers in my glums came along. Day #1 of Finding the Glimmers in my Glums is the problems I have sometimes with grounding my ideas because I have so much floating in my head. I have observed, especially as a creative whether it comes to my writing or even my art (in whatever form that may be) I get a little frustrated with myself because as soon as I have something to create, my head is instantly filled with so many ideas and sometimes I struggle to fully ground one idea because my mind is able to perceive multitude of directions this one concept or theme could express itself. It can be overwhelming, especially as a person who is still gradually learning to 'do' more so than 'think' about it when it comes to creating. This sometimes leads me to stall during the ideation process, more so when I'm creating art rather than writing. For quite a long time, I held this subconscious belief that this was beyond frustrating and I am aware this is indeed a weak area of mine because that stagnation can settle in if I am not careful and start overthinking or even overanalyzing it. It is definitely a part of me that I've been sometimes disheartened by. However over the years, I was truly able to find some form of glimmer within this perceived glum of mine. I was able to finally perceive the strengths within this glum; I am good at being innovative or developing an idea in multiple ways. I realized....wait...this can indeed be a strength in some way...I may be really well at ideation. This glimmer only fully settled into my subconscious recently because I have thankfully had a really sweet and helpful lecturer that brought to my awareness that I do not have to perceive this as something awful. What I perceived as personally troublesome or disheartening at times is truly one of my strengths, especially if I learn to harness it well and incorporate different mechanisms so I do not feel like I am spiraling through ideas with no sense of direction. So, in little ways, I have been incorporating small habits that help me ground an idea when I am creating. I still think about my creations, however, now I make more little lists of concepts/themes, then I choose one or two and from there I just...start. Whether that means gathering photo references, sketching all these ideas down, mixing colour palettes, etc. I just start. And thankfully, doing and starting has been the most helpful for me. I can feel that my ideas are not just spiraling; they have a sense of being more grounded and complete now. It has helped me to be in tune with the flow of creation and to see that my perceived weakness did indeed have something I can learn from it. Not to say that I still do not have my off times but now I do have little ways to help me stay on track with my ideas and expressing them in ways I would be content with when I am finished. The development process of my creations has truly been so much more fun now that I've turned pieces of my glum into beautiful glimmers~

Concrete Memories

Dear little one, I see you laying here again today. Another day passes by and of course I’m here to stay. We’ve been through it all, more than anyone would know. I’ve seen your smiles, your cries and the tears in yourself you tried so hard to sew. Yes, I’ve seen it all, whether messy or pretty. All of it. You’re adorable, little one, you must know you truly are even with all the wrappers from chocolates and candy bars. I’ve been here since the moment you were taken to me. From then on our relationship has never ceased and even in the silence of the night, you’ve never been truly alone. I wished every time little one, oh so desperately wished to wipe your tears and give you a little kiss. I’m always here and here I’ll of course always stay yet, sometimes I worry. I’ll surely miss you when you need to go away. I start to wonder at times if you’ll miss me like I’ll miss you, then I remember your glistening eyes and the warmth of your lingering touch. You reached out and for the first time, our hands pressed together like a light embrace. You smiled at me, oh so tenderly little one, so gently sweetheart, I almost missed the firm promise you tucked into the folds of my concrete heart. “Thank you, for being my home” those simple words. Six simple words in that soft tone of yours, little one. I knew that those words came from your heart that shone, resonated from the memories we hold together. Missing you, indeed I’ll miss you more than I’ll ever be able to say but my heart, my love, my safety raised you to fly away. With the bright lavender of my skin, I’ll always keep your lofty words here safely, waiting. Waiting. Waiting patiently for your return, I know I’ll see that lovely smile of yours again someday. After all, home was never truly this whole house but the space we created within my four walls. ~Elunara W.

—Letter to my inner child from the perspective of my childhood bedroom~

"Mother of Fertility" | 18/03/25

Weekly Artsy Post~ ~whimsicweaver

"As an artist...why do you create?"

I think the simple fact that there's so much to envision…there's so much ideas, stories, messages waiting on an outlet to bring them into the physical. The fact that we have an imagination and can dream about so many things and express it here in the 3D. The beautiful feeling of connection that bridges the gaps of separation when we share our creativity with others as well ~whimsicweaver

"To be loved is up to you. Read that again" ~Elunara W.

We can be surrounded by love but not be open to receiving it. Sometimes we close out or block that love from entering because of various valid circumstances, however it is up to us to open ourselves up to receiving that love again. Even if we do it slowly. It's important that we preserve that sensitivity to receiving love in all its different forms and that can be beyond difficult after experiencing the harsher faces of love...but it's not impossible and this sentiment is enough for me to keep embracing love and its many faces.

The Weaver of Tunes

"I wonder if the wind giggles in fondness or even gasps in excitement when they discover a being who hangs windchimes. I wonder if the air stops for just a moment in complete awe…as if breathless at the sight of glistening beams under the sun's rays. I wonder if it then rushes forward, a complete, wholehearted laugh swishing by…oh so willing to play a tune. I wonder how many people truly hear the whispers and hums of the pure wind. Maybe it can be a lonely thing sometimes but oh I still wonder…the absolute joy in finally playing its own unique tune, oh so open and willing to sing for anyone who'd stop for a second to listen." ~Elunara W.

Visualisation of wind weaving through wind chimes. We should stop and listen to the song of the wind sometimes. Maybe we may learn a thing or two <3

The Consciousness of Innocence

It grows with us; I think it is never truly lost or taken away. I think it is through experiences that we truly come to understand and appreciate our innocence and purity. Life is a journey to return or rather remove the layers within oneself that deny, push or cover the higher truth of our purest form. Innocence is not the lack of corruption nor its absence, it is the experience of that innocence despite the wounds. It is the tenderness, the moments of reprieve in spite of the hardships faced. It is not naive; innocence is knowing, it is aware. It is a state of awareness and through life we learn to appreciate our innocence amongst all the difficulties. "How can we truly appreciate the warmth...without having not experienced the harsh bite of the freezing cold? Or how can we appreciate the cool...without having not experienced the sweltering heat?" ~Elunara W. Inner monologue about Innocence and the apparent "loss" of it.

The Life of The Candle

"I wonder if the candle wick knows of pain. I wonder if it feels grief as it eventually withers away. Or perhaps…I wonder if it knows of the beautiful light it radiates, the soft, comforting glow within the darkness. Maybe that makes it worth it. Maybe the candle dances unapologetically as itself, unabashedly giving off such a bright light. Maybe it knows of its temporary time here….temporary time to leave a mark. Does the candle wick feel grief or does it fade away with a last laugh, leaving behind a cheeky wink in its wake? Who knows…? But we do know that it shines brightly." ~Elunara W. Gaining a new perspective of life through the eyes of a candle

"Perceiving another's existence wholly is already the most profound act of love we beings can give to another" ~Elunara W.

I think we're always surrounded by love and it is a true gift; the act of noticing. The gift of perceiving not only oneself but others as well. That beautiful leaf. That adorable insect crawling by. The soothing sounds of wind chimes playing their tune gleefully. The comforting sound of footsteps in the other room. The mystical faces or animals we find in the clouds. How the flowers or leaves twirl from branches in celebration; their own unique greeting. It's all love. And what better way to return that love than simply acknowledging them too. Who else would stop and smile fondly in admiration at...say....that one feather on the floor? Or perhaps who would take the time to notice the rainbows that dance across a surface after light refracts from that one glass? Who knows....but maybe you notice them and that in itself is one of the greatest exchange of love.

'Whispers of the Undead' [Visualization of an Inner Subconscious Community]

I got this very cute imagery that made me emotional...having this underworld community village that I visit and giggle and sip tea with quote unquote "monsters" and this village only came to be because one at a time….the "monsters" or "demons" don't have to wander around this seemingly desolate plane anymore……only because as we sit down with them and get to know them better……we also create a literal home…their own space for them to stay…. and that's why everyone knows us in the village and why we could have a little village in the first place….why we could have a community where one by one they are not lost or wandering feelings or souls anymore. They have their own little unique cottages or houses with their own unique belongings. I think it is so important to listen and feel into one's emotions, especially the emotions that make us feel uncomfortable. Sometimes they just want us to listen and they too deserve a space to exist even if only temporarily. ~whimsicweaver

Somewhere between the weight of what’s been, the exhaustion of what is, and the fear of what might come next, remind yourself that you have survived every version of yourself before this one; and will survive this too.

Grief is the love we no longer know where to place. It is proof that something mattered, that something touched you so deeply it still lingers even in its absence. And that’s the cruel beauty of it: grief only exists where love once did.

Reclaiming Impulsiveness

I, at times, gave impulsiveness a bad reputation. I've realized that on a subconscious level, I have a part of me that was convinced or encouraged to view impulsiveness as something "inherently bad or negative" and I want to reform that thought process because if we really think about it…IM PULSE…what is a pulse? A single vibration or short burst of sound, electric current, light, or other wave…impulse is really just acting from a feeling space. Sometimes consequences or reactions to a short moment of impulse could result in more heavier outcomes or even lighter outcomes. Impulsiveness isn't inherently a bad thing, it just means a person acts from the intense desire to express this 'short burst of light' from within…and that spark can either light a candle to cast a warm glow…or light a match and watch it fall to gasoline. Impulsiveness is not bad, it is how we choose to express or carry forward this short…yet precious moment of light within us.

“Sometimes I’ll start a sentence and I don’t even know where it’s going. I just hope I find it along the way.” - Michael G. Scott

Neural pathways of "finding words" along the way…there are stories….words waiting to be channeled…existing until we happen to stumble across them…I wonder how they feel? I wonder if they feel lost, I wonder if they feel lonely…a desolate place…or do they sound hopeful…ecstatic even at the mere thought of having you stumble upon them? Or maybe they feel everything yet nothing at all…maybe they just…are. Maybe they aren't lost and maybe they aren't searching either but neither of us can say that experiencing each other was a mistake…or a wrong turn down a pathway. There are stories, energies, messages, existing within a liminal space that aren't beckoning us nor pushing us away…yet they're willing, oh so welcoming to share their space…not only theirs…our space. They didn't call. I didn't call. Neither of us called. Yet here we are…and here is perfect and here is now…but rather, here is everything when we're together. Here is expression. Here is suppression. Here is life. Here is death. Here is love and its many faces. Here is meant to be. ~Elunara W.

The Embrace of Light and Dark

"We use the darkness to justify our fears of the unknown and unfamiliar~ Although the fears are valid, and indeed can become true they are only illusions at the present and we shouldn't allow that to stop us. There is light in darkness; a comfort and there is darkness in light; discomfort." ~Elunara W.