Wednesday, 1 July 2015

I Will Never Stop Believing...

Image shared from Google.
 
Deep inside I've always had a special feeling; it’s never left but on occasion its gone quiet.
 
Through the trials and tribulations of life I quickly learned you have to love what you do. I love words, I love people, I love messages and I especially get a super duper, blissful feeling when I plant seeds. As a child I learned with sadness that it’s best not to wait for anyone.  This became instrumental in my life and as I plod on and make the best of everything, I see much beauty in this day, and no matter what, I’m on the right path and even if things had been completely different I think I would still be where I am right now because it really is the right place for me.  
 
My dream has yet to materialise but the other fabulous thing here is that every single day I get to do what I want, and I’m able to pick and choose what, when and if I write. The icing on my cake would be for a publisher to see potential, and give me a chance... A chance I wouldn’t waste, a chance I would work hard with. Mind you, as I write these beautiful, heartfelt words I realise 100% that I write what others feel, dream and share.
 
We are not alone, and it doesn’t seem to matter where you are because there is always another wonderful writer close by.
 
~Jane Ewen~
© July 2015.

 
 

Saturday, 13 June 2015

Dreams & Drama...


I have a sleep condition which unfortunately, seems to prevent me from dreaming. Despite this, but prior to being diagnosed I always use to dream, I loved my dreams. I have to share that I’ve never dreamt about my father... I’d like to say he was the best dad in the world... but he wasn’t. I know if he was here now he’d tell you the same. I don’t understand why but for the past two weeks I’ve had several vivid dreams, and in each one he has told me something special...

The road is long... through the haze of a dazzling mid-day sun; I watch speckles of dust as they dance high into the air... Looking around there are no signs of life, except for a single dwelling with a separate garage on my left, and a single double fronted shop on my right.

My focus is the shop.

Without taking my eyes off the shops door, I notice I’m breathless; I became aware of a dog running. There’s tightness in my chest as I flick frightened eyes to the left... oh my God, no, no, no... A Rottweiler is running after me. In sheer panic I wrap my arms around myself. It zips through my mind like a gramophone player, don't you run, don't you run, Nooooooo... don't you dare run... Oh god it’s on me.  It rises up, wraps huge front paws around me and as if in slow motion it walks in a grotesque fashion, alongside. I don't falter, I don't stop but I'm choking, my eyes stream. Terrified, I’m petrified of dogs.   

Growls, snarls, the glint from polished teeth snap, snap snapping.

I’m going to die, so with one last effort I push open the shop door... My eyes meet his... I open my mouth; I struggle, and in barely a whisper

"Dad... dad, Dog"

He knows I’m frightened, his hand reaches across the counter, and he grasps a handful of sweets, colourful, sugary temptations.

Defiantly he steps towards me and in a booming, Irish voice he commands the dog to sit. It falls away from me exposing angry red welts across my body.

It sits.  

His gaze steady on the dog as he offered more sweets.  

Standing at his side I continue to shake from head to toe. I become completely overwhelmed by my dad’s presence and the most incredible feeling of love, warmth, and safety permeates me. Grateful, I watch as he continues to feed the dog, he tells me not to worry, he says he’s been poorly for the longest time, and that I need to listen to more music, he says on the other side he’s a teacher, and as if by some form of magical enchantment, a magnificent white, grey horse appears, and when dad turns his attention to give it a sweet, for me it’s all too much.

In my roller-coaster of deep, dark emotion, I finally break down and let it all out.

Opening confused, sleep filled eyes... I realise I've been in a land of the unknown, and that I’d met and communicated with my deceased father...

Once I'd calmed ,and in soulful reflection realised there was evidence that my story is set to continue. I felt fortunate to have acquired essential knowledge that this journey is far from over; holding that confirmation fills me with ease.

As I dress and plan for the day ahead, in my mind's eye I see the old Irish rogue who very rarely smiled but oh when he did my world lit right up...


~Jane Ewen~


Sunday, 17 May 2015

The Loft... In My Mind.

Picture kindly shared from Pinterest.

The loft in my mind is open 24/7... It’s a place for characters who want to transpire in my next story, or book. I’ve heard them say they chose me to ensure their story is heard; they need a connection, oh and a place to stay... It’s disappointing but I've had to disengage from a couple of characters; they were dark, too dark to live in the loft. With help from the rest of the residents, their removal was relatively quick because the lofts residents won’t put up with anything, or anyone who tries to take over... Dear lord, don’t ever let anyone try to take over.  The chances are the residents will take over, and we won’t see the character again.

(At first it was as if the statement below was heard through an old radio)
“My dream multiplies; it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time”.

These words greeted me last night as I tried to relax. Initially I attempted to ignore them because I knew this had to be a new character trying to move into the loft but I'd been writing all day, I wanted to rest.  
“If you don’t listen then I’ll keep saying it, my dream multiplies, it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time” (Silence)

(Someone) breathes a heavy Sigh... 
“My dream multiplies; it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time”

That someone is breathing to the point where I can literally feel its frustration as it seeps into my bones.
“My dream multiplies; it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time”

I should speak, maybe even acknowledge its presence but to be honest I can’t tell whether it’s male, or female. Maybe it’s neither, maybe it’s from the other side? I’ve had a few of them, and again, not a pleasant experience.
 “My dream multiplies; it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time”

“Ok, ok... Bloody hell I’m coming”.
Reluctantly and with much annoyance I progress towards the staircase... here is where I always find them. Their either sat on the bottom step, draped over the banister, or persistently knocking on the lofts huge double doors, which by the way would never get an answer, because the residents have stopped opening the door to strangers. So they wait for me. 

The smell was atrocious ... I smelt him before I saw him, and I wasn’t prepared for what I was about to see. A small skinny man with knobbly knees, he wasn’t wearing any trousers, however he was wearing shiny shorts. His white string vest had seen better days. I couldn’t believe the oversized trainers with no socks, and his small bony face housed dark sunken eyes, it was as if two thumbs had pressed them into an oversized skull.  On his head wispy bits of what looked like hair waved like seaweed, but for the most part he was bald. On his forehead he had a long, rather strange looking scar which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. His hooked nose protruded like that of an eagle.  I noted and quickly recoiled from his grubby hands, nails were bitten and black, as if he’d been digging dirt all day. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, and lying on the floor by his feet was a small, brown, dingy looking suitcase.
Clearing my throat I asked what I could do for him.

“Ahh you came” he boomed.
Now there was a voice that didn’t suit this man.

“Yes I usually come when summoned, especially if a room is needed for the night”
“I need it longer, much longer, and maybe longer still”.

He stood, moving from one foot to the other in a most irritated fashion.
“What can I do for you sir?”

"I need somewhere to stay, and with someone who can make my dreams, nightmares go away”
Uneasy, he looked around...

“What are you running away from?” I enquired, (no point in beating about the bush)
"Nothing... no one, just down on my luck and need company”

“You wouldn’t be bringing any bad luck to my door now would you?”
No answer...

“Would you?”
“Of course not, like I said, need a place to stay and some company”

“Do you work around here?”
“Yes I work close by, came straight from there and needs me a shower”

Lip licking and nervous tension, (I didn’t like this...)
“Tell you what sir; I’ll see if there are any vacancies... I’ll be right down”

I knew I hadn’t made the right noises, his dark eyes smouldered as dirty, bony fingers twitched.
At the top of the stairs I knocked, a resident opened it a crack.

“Any vacancies?” silence rebounded as the resident stepped forward, and looked down the stairs eyeballing the character.
“Who wants to know” the resident replied hoarsely.

“I do” came the skinny mans booming response.
“Come closer and we’ll discuss”

The skinny man dragged his suitcase up the stairs; his eyes never left the resident.
"I’m looking to stay for a few days, need company and some routine”

“Is that right?” said the resident as a few more voices vibrated from the door.
“Well this is how it goes, we don’t like noise, disrespect, or parties; no strangers are allowed, and no smoking, we have a rota for cleaning the kitchen and bathroom daily, any problems with that?”

“No problem at all, I’m not after looking for any trouble, just need accommodation”. The resident made way and made a gesture with his hand towards the door, and as it opened all that could be seen from within was dark shadows.
Just as he got to the perimeter of the door, skinny man looked around, winked at me as he whispered,

“I’ll be seeing you”. He was gone.
“You’re letting him in then?” I nodded to the resident.

“Yep, any funny business like the last one and you’ll hear from us soon enough or maybe you won’t”.
As the resident blinked green, lizard like eyes, I rubbed my chin as I considered our new character, a character that will certainly get creative juices flowing; he obviously has issues, possibly some interesting history. Doesn’t really matter, he managed to get his oversized, sockless feet through the door to the loft, and if you knew the Loft’s residents that is indeed a massive achievement. 

Stay tuned for updates.

 
©2015 Jane Ewen

 

 

 

Sunday, 10 May 2015

How Writing Has Positively Influenced My Life...


My own Image used.

“I am participating in a Writing Contest: and it’s all about:
How Writing Has Positively Influenced My Life ~ Hosted by Positive Writer.”


Memories are sometimes beautiful and often painful... but in my opinion they are oh so necessary, and help to make us who we are...  

Addressing the question, in what way has writing positively influenced my life?
I am showered with immense possibilities...

Mist descends as my mind becomes a black and white film-show; it takes me back to unimaginable years.  Bleak rooms, with bad people... I owned a voice that was never heard, and an imagination never nurtured but despite all of that I miraculously possessed a burning desire for the impossible.   In dark days I walked a lonely path where I made up invisible friends. It was only when I learned how to read and write that I sensed real magic. As a child I stayed with that magic as reality was cruel. I recall making lines and circles, and then pretending to write amazing stories, I could be whatever character I chose to be, but always I wanted to be the mummy.  Some years later I was surprised to hear that the authorities believed what had saved me, was my gift of holding my hands over my face to pretend I was invisible.  

When I was  fifteen years old I put pen and paper away, I destroyed all the stories which promised someone to love me, and I threw away precious magazines, and books, because the time had come for me to look after myself...

I didn’t know then that it would be quite some time before I picked up a pen again, and feel those long-lost stirrings of my own magic, but I did and I never looked back. I realised even then, that writing, sharing, and caring was an extraordinary way of connecting, communicating, planting seeds, to learn, and show those that are interested it’s possible to connect on another level, a deep level where a writer is able to express, or better still give a piece of themselves.  As you may imagine when I started to write again, it was like I couldn’t stop, my heart, head and hand just produced all these thoughts and words, my blog received some and the rest I filed away.  

During my absence from writing I did not waste time, I had a career, married and I became a mother. All those dark years of pretending... finally a mother and I confidently say I’m the best mother I can be. During those wonderful years my yearning to write did start to tap-tap me on the shoulder but I was fulfilled and happy for the first time in my life. I had a family. Then a crisis, a heartbreaking tragedy struck my heart. One afternoon for five hours I waited by the hospital bed of a loved one, I went over my life; I made promises to god as I begged for help. I also made a promise to myself that I would no longer put my writing on hold, and I would write as often as I wanted. Within that writing I knew I would always spend time to pass inspirational messages on to whoever was interested, because as a reader I also knew that we often read things, they strike a chord and again those random words touch a place that helps, and heals.

Of course I have dreams... I happily work on projects with the vain hope that one day when the time is right they will be released, but for now all I want, is to see my words flow and know they mean something to someone. As a writer I also understand words can be powerful, and I will always remain mindful to make sure my words won’t hurt, wound or maim, aha, unless of course I’m writing a story.   

In a flurry of writing I am clear that for me there are no expectations, in fact it would be fair to say that despite no expectations, my beloved writing has indeed healed me, and it’s in that gratitude I want to share my positive journey.

 
~Jane Ewen~

 

Saturday, 28 March 2015

Knowing...

'Sad Child' Image from www.pxleyes.com

I know... I don’t know how, but I KNOW... have you ever felt the presence of knowledge, yet you couldn’t explain how, why, or when you became aware of the information... It isn’t knowledge of a prediction, and it isn’t looking into a crystal ball at the future and feeling certain about someone’s life... it’s a knowing which magically hits you. The knowing can happen when a person is talking, listening or simply stood in your company... or at an event and suddenly you feel overwhelmed with information, feelings, opinions, beliefs and views. You could be writing, watching TV, making plans...  The information can be so extraordinarily strong, that you know without doubt how another is feeling, what they need to do, and nine times out of ten you’re able to execute a plan without hurting the feelings of any sensitive soul... Back in the day my knowing was scary... but not anymore, I know what I have to do. I truly believe this came from a whole childhood of feeling inferior, and uncertain.

There is a beauty to uncertainty and I’d like to share with you what it means for me... When you’re stuck in that moment, that frozen, dying, period when you feel your losing it... stop... wait and feel the tick of time as it allows you to hold on to permission to do something about your moment of truth... You do not have to rush for anyone, time was made for all of us to relax in whilst we made good decisions, and if you made a bad one, that’s ok to because mistakes are made to learn from...

Lifting a clenched fist, rage overwhelms the whole of his being. He stumbles...

A weird motion of uneasy slowness all around catches in his throat, he realises this isn’t normal, this is not what normally happens, and this is definitely not how it had gone before... what the hell was different?

The stupidest gaze lands on the baby, she turns and looks deep into his soul... He flinches, anger stabs at him hard, and he raises his fist higher. Anger at boiling point, he needs to vent, to let go... Baby blue eyes flood with liquid, and her warmth strikes him. Reluctantly he lowers his hand, and picks her up; insistently he lifts her high into the air. Her job is done...

As a child growing up in an uncertain world she knew things...  she knew stuff she didn’t understand, she knew death was not the end, and for reasons unknown she also knew it was simply a transition. She knew she was wise beyond her years, she knew a great deal of information, information that was inexplicable in terms of how she could have known such things at her young age. Knowledge gave her power, a power she had always been aware of, but thankfully way back then she’d always felt the all consuming power would remain with her always. The important thing through all of this is that the knowing is, and would always be the truth. How she knew this she couldn’t say... she just knew. The strange thing is it wasn’t just a clear knowing; there were other things, things she would only be able to share as her journey unfolded... There’s no rush, no need to worry, only a delightful sense of peace, and calm.

 
© Jane Ewen

Tuesday, 21 October 2014

Halloween Wishes...

Image used: Bloody_Mary_by_LunarDiamond 2
 
It’s 1904. Pretty Ella Wilson is a very excited young lady. She is going to be allowed quite a unique opportunity of taking a glimpse into her future ... Ella has a dream, she would dearly love to see her future husband-to-be, and on this ‘Hallows Eve’ she has been told her wish will be granted ... But listen, and remember... (Be careful what you wish for)  
 
5-45pm... Monday 31st October 1904
I’m overjoyed, my shift is finally over. It’s Monday 31st October in the year 1904, and my friend Polly from the kitchen has told me it’s ‘All Hallows Eve’ but wait, here’s the exciting part... if I really, really want to, then this would be the absolute, perfect night, to sit in a darkened room, hold a mirror out to my front, just so I may catch a glimpse of my beloved, my future husband...  The very thought that this might be so, fills me with astonishment.  Oh I know what you’re thinking, ‘what on earth is she going on about’ but please, listen...  For over two long, lonely years, my dream’s been love, marriage and babies. Yes, I realise I have to find a partner first, sadly though to me this dream’s a million miles away....
 
Let me introduce myself, my name is Ella Wilson; I work as a domestic maid for an eminent Doctor and his family in the heart of London. It is unusual, but I live out which suits me just fine.  This evening as I leave work, I distinctly feel a lighter skip to my walk. My emotions are high, and although I’m not sure why, I feel overwhelmed almost like I’ve won a prize. I feel hopeful as well as in suspense with recent advice and information; I carefully store a list of things in the twirling vortex of my mind. My first stop before catching the tram home is to pop into the nearest shop; I must obtain a bottle of wine, just to help me relax for the evening ahead.
Within the quaint little shop I smell the over powering aroma of liquorice. As I Look around I spy big juicy pumpkins, and decide there and then to make a Jack-o-lantern. I smile at the thought of an enclosed candle flickering warmly. With a most welcome relief I realise it will illuminate the surrounding darkness in my little room, which is where I will sit for the event. With all my heart, I hope and pray that tonight I will get to meet my future husband. The very thought seems nigh on impossible...
10.00pm...
Sat in my favourite armchair, excited, and dressed in my Sunday best with gas lights extinguished, I relax as it grows progressively darker... Two more hours need to pass... as I lean back I admire the pumpkins big bright but scary face, its candle flickers in a sinister way, whilst nightmarish eyes grin back at me...  Outside, the night is black and icy; cold begins to penetrate my little room.  In the dark, I’m able to watch as fine spits of rain, sizzle on the gas lamps outside my window, causing little puffs of smoke to evaporate into the chilly night. The front door’s been knocked countless times; I ignore them, because this evening is mine. I must remain calm, relaxed and open to the fact that I’m going to see my one true love, my sweetheart... tonight.
 
The clock strikes the 11:00th hour, only one more hour till magical strike of midnight. Slowly, deliberately, I pour another glass of deep, dark delicious wine; as it usually does, it hits the spot. My eyes close, my mind slides to an inviting grey light, which nestles snugly behind tired eyelids, here I see myself and the past... I do hope day dreaming is allowed before one sees a future vision... I shiver as I observe loneliness, and as I behold my eternal wish for a proper family, and sense its importance as it illuminates through the greyness. I know my past has not been good, but at least I work, and I have a place to stay.  I want to be positive. I need to concentrate hard on the good bits of life; anything extra would be the bonus I’ve long waited for. Maybe this dream is for idiots or for fools who want to wish their lives away... Who in their right mind would wait till midnight to catch a glimpse of someone they don’t even know... smiling, my grin spreads wide.  I already know the answer to that laborious question. I also know it would be a fool who did not seek-out what they want.  All I know is that I need to know, I have to know, even if the answer is good, bad or indifferent, I have to see.
 
Pouring yet another glass of wine I visibly flinch at the time.  11.56pm; I need to set the scene. Gripping the cold wine glass, I take a final sip... looking deep into my beautiful mirror, which I acquired when I took up residence in my little room... I admire the stunning, ornamental decor of this outrageously heavy mirror which is made from solid oak; it stands upright on its own stand... To my right, the Jack-o-lantern flickers softly on my little wine table. In a heartbeat I note the air abruptly chills... its deathly quiet. Unexpectedly I smell apple cinnamon, not sure why as I don’t recall buying any. I hear the ticking of a clock; I don’t possess a clock that ticks... Why?  Because I can’t stand them with their perpetual reminder that life ticks on by....
12:00 ~ Midnight:
I wonder if these new sights, sounds and smells have anything to do with the magic I’m about to witness... Motionless, I tentatively peer into the mirror, nervous now by the sudden appearance of swirls of fog, its denseness goes from thick to thin, then abruptly it starts to clear... stretching forwards I crane my neck further towards the mirror.  I don’t know how, but I do know the time is imminent; fog seems to be disappearing, but then the odd swirl blows towards me from within the mirror... is that possible? Polly said nothing about fog penetrating my front room, but hang on, there’s something else, my body feels strange and oh so peculiar.  I cringe as I feel the hairs on my arms and neck stand to attention. A petrified feeling within my stomach churns over, and over, I’ve felt this feeling before... its fear.   Fear with its tentacles begins its climb up towards my chest. I’m unable to move my eyes, staring hard into the mirror; under no circumstances do I want to miss my loved one... I know as if by instinct that something is about to happen, the room starts to turn, the mirror clears again.
 
Hang on I see something...  someone’s moving, crawling forwards, perhaps like me wanting a better look... I see a figure from the other side pushing closer to catch a glimpse... Heart truly singing now... I know I’ll see him shortly. Damn the fog is here again... the mirror darkens, I’m almost standing to catch a glimpse of who’s within my mirror; I hear something, someone... he’s calling my name.  Clearer now, “Ella, Ella... Closer, come closer, I can’t see you... Come to the Mirror Ella, come...“ Standing tall, this is it, I touch my face and smooth down my dress, I feel a heart full of love as I nervously step forward... A gurgling sound echoes throughout the room...  another step up to the glass, then a crescendo of a thousand bubbles explode as they escape from the mirror...  
 
A green light throbs as it pulsates from behind the glass. I’m just able to make out the outline of his skull; he’s here, my beloved... His arms open out towards me, lovingly, I thrust my own arms forward, I am quickly horrified to see them disappear into the mirror; the glass gives way like liquid metal... but before I get a chance to scream, I’m noisily sucked into the dark green, murky water, like a loose weed I’m gone... Gone forever with my love on the other side of the mirror, lost in his twilight misty world of fog...
 
Disorientated, I float helpless back towards the front of the mirror. From here I look... and scream as I witness the absolute horror of it all... and as I frantically push both hands onto the inside of the glass ~ I look out to see the Jack-o-lanterns chilling, twinkle as it stares menacingly back at me, I catch a glimpse of my upturned wine glass, with its contents still seeping into the carpet, but oh my god, that’s nothing to the most frightening sight of all...
 
A grotesque man sits in my wonderful, comfortable armchair, and with a ghoulish grin he waves at me.  
 
© 2014 Jane Ewen  
 
 
 



Friday, 26 September 2014

Peace...

Image used from Pinterest quoting Jimi Hendrix.

I read this on my travels today...
One finds peace in their life when they first find peace in their heart.
~ Sue Krebs~

From Soul-Speaking
https://www.facebook.com/Jane.Ewen?ref=hl#!/SoulSpeaking?fref=ts 

Peace has always meant a great deal to me, and given I have walked a journey where at intervals I have known such unpredictable disturbances, and lived through catastrophic changes; it is not surprising I understand the importance of such a beautiful gift. Seeing the above quote caused a whole array of thoughts, and feelings to spill...

There is something in understanding that when you feel no peace there is always, sadly, a catastrophic reason... I don’t mind sharing I was once in a place where I felt no peace at-all. Its one thing to be restless and wonder what the hell’s it all about, but for it to be taken, broken, and thrown to the four winds, making you question everything you thought you knew, now there’s something that could and virtually can destroy you. Occasionally it’s realistic to be acquainted with the perplexing knowledge, that maybe one or two things might knock you off guard, but when the big one comes, and literally floors you... you know without doubt, you’re in trouble.
I don’t mean to ramble, because my intention here is to bring a specific point in a concise piece, you may be on your knees, and the problem might still be in your life, but surprisingly it’s possible to come to terms with its devastation, because the strange thing about life is that mostly it has an out of the ordinary way of turning around, and unexpectedly, it can present you with questions, and answers that actually you hadn’t thought of.

I can only report I am victim, and a witness to this testimony, that no matter how dreadful it gets there is usually a way forward, and I suppose that depends on you, your strength, your support, the resolve, and commitment to stay upright and focused on those around you, including yourself... Give yourself time; make a plan, and never mind taking one day at a time, sometimes it has to be an hour, a moment or even a minute. It can be done, but take the pressure of yourself and those around you by keeping your expectation to a minimum. Remember stuff happens but life goes on.

Good Luck my friend.

 If one breathes in hope, and then breathes out peace, a ripple will crisscross the world.
~JaneEwen~