The day I declared, “I am an artist,” I unknowingly did something that would unexpectedly open a gateway, not in the outside world, but deep within my inner landscape. That doorway gave my spirit, my imagination, and my heart permission to rise, to move, to express without apology.
When I hear myself say, “My canvas is calling,” I am naming a sacred moment. It is not just a whim, nor a hobby, but a signal—a pulse from within that stirs me toward the imaginal.
This calling is not about perfection, nor about predictability. It is not about producing something to please the eye of another. It is the quiet, potent courage to let my true presence take hold and simply paint. In this way, art becomes more than my craft; it becomes a demonstration of what I call my authentic authority.
Authority, in this sense, is not control or dominance. It is a natural sense of being aligned with my deepest truth. I let go and trust what moves me and moves through me. When I listen to the call of my canvas, I honour the mysterious current that I guess runs through every artist—a whisper that insists I am more than a maker of things, I am a vessel for something eternal. And by the way, I had no idea that embodying my artist archetype would emerge with such emotional potency.
To answer this call is to give myself to the process of my visionary archetype. To trust that even the mess or accident has meaning. I am beginning to trust that when my canvas calls, it’s because I am ready to let my presence become visible, to let my soul become form, and to let art be the language of my freedom.
Because somewhere deep within me, I know that Art is Life and Life is Art
In an act of creation, there is a moment when the world falls silent. It is here, in this holy pause, that the sacred enters.
For most of my life, I have attended to these three practices — a trinity of presence that has shaped both my creative path and my way of being in our world:
Listen to the Silence—Enter the Silence—And become one with what I am creating or doing.
These are not just steps; they are doorways to another way of being. Each one draws me deeper into surrendering to the present moment — where spirit and matter weave together. Over the years, I’ve come to see that this process is also the key to truly being with people. Not just hearing them… but listening with the kind of presence that can be felt.
In a world vibrating with a digital cacophony and opinion-laden voices, the most radical act is no longer to speak, but to truly listen. Not listening with the mind’s impatience or the ego’s interruptions — but the deep listening that disarms the ego, stills the inner noise, and allows the other person to be fully received.
If the unseen realms kept a karmic measure, it wouldn’t be based on how many hours we sat in meditation, but on how many hearts were spent feeling fully heard. Because listening, in its most valid form, is meditation.
It is the discipline of presence — the art of letting another soul unfold without resistance.
The true alchemy is becoming one with all that is, another human being and discovering the extraordinary in that moment.
It can be incredibly difficult—sometimes almost impossible—to forgive those who have hurt, betrayed, or traumatised us. When someone’s behaviour cuts deep, leaving wounds that echo across years or even lifetimes, forgiveness can feel like a betrayal of our pain, a dismissal of the truth.
And yet, when we hold on tightly to the story of the wrong, something else begins to take root—Rage, Resentment, Blame, Hatred—These energies may seem justified, even necessary, in the face of cruelty or injustice. But over time, they lodge themselves in our emotional body and nervous system, quietly distorting the very peace we yearn for. We lose touch not only with the person or events that hurt us, but also with ourselves. With our own essence and the humanity we are trying to protect.
Here’s the paradox: The longer we withhold forgiveness, the more estranged we become from the very qualities we value—empathy, compassion, self-trust, and connection.
But there is a powerful, transformative path available to us…
To love anyway. To love radically. To love unconditionally. Even when it defies logic.
Now, let’s pause here. The phrase unconditional love has been tossed around so frequently that it’s lost its gravitas. It’s become a buzzword in self-help circles and spiritual memes. But true unconditional love—the kind that asks us to see another’s humanity even through the fog of our pain—is not passive or naive. It is the most powerful of all forces.
To offer forgiveness and unconditional love to someone who has harmed you does not mean excusing their behaviour. It does not mean denying accountability, justice, or healthy boundaries. But it does mean choosing to transform the energetic imprint you carry—And that changes everything.
When we forgive, we shift our resonance. We reclaim our own clarity. We stop feeding the wound, and instead begin nourishing a new pattern of response. We become part of the solution.
Energetically, forgiveness liberates. It creates space where blame and resentment can’t exist. It invites a recalibration in the wider field, often in unseen but impactful ways. Your forgiveness might be the very light that helps tip the scales in a more life-affirming direction.
Even if you never see the results directly, your act of inner alchemy becomes a living prayer—one that supports the emergence of truth, healing, and greater harmony.
This is not blind optimism. It is the wisdom of universal balance. Forgiveness is not about forgetting. It’s about freeing.
It’s about choosing love over bitterness, and coherence over chaos. It is how we reclaim our deepest humanity—And ultimately, how we help heal the world.
Something is soul-stirring about beginning again. Not from scratch, but from the place within that has waited patiently, quietly—for decades. Recently, I set up a small art studio at home and picked up the brush, beginning to paint—a passion I’ve carried in my heart for years.
Being creative has always been my go-to for self-regulating and healing. It helps me stay connected to Source and grounds me. Thankfully, my creativity has taken on many forms over the years, including cooking, writing, designing, fashion, and hairstyling.
Artist Statement:This painting is born from a layered process — a hidden painting rests beneath this one, like an ancestor beneath the skin of the present. Guided by instinct rather than intention, I surrendered to the pull of bold colour and instinctive gesture. The red ground holds a sacred intensity, while the bursts of purple and gold emerge as energetic forms — wings, flames, perhaps even messengers. Eyes or portals appear, suggesting presence, perception, and prophecy. This is a painting about emergence — about the unseen becoming seen, about memory taking flight through colour, texture, and motion.
But painting feels different; it asks more of me. It requires more space—physically, emotionally, and spiritually and invites a deeper kind of surrender. There is a stillness within its vastness, and in that space, something sacred begins to emerge.
In my case, it was born from the whispers of my longing. I didn’t have the space or time to create in the way I truly wanted. My life had asked me to pour my creativity and energy elsewhere. But now, the conditions have ripened, and my inner artist has been allowed to reawaken.
Each morning, I rise with a sense of excitement, passion, and purpose that I can only describe as cellular. My hands are remembering, my eyes are seeing anew, and my heart—oh, my heart—feels wide open to the mystery. I’m not just painting. I’m discovering the rhythm of my process between the pauses and the messes. I’m allowing myself to live in the unknown, safe within the sacred flow, living in a mix of peaceful intention and instinct, and it feels like home.
I reminded myself that artists throughout history have not been remembered for mimicking trends or pleasing the masses. They have been remembered for their truth. For daring to stay faithful to the thread of their soul. They listened inward, not outward. They created not because the world demanded it, but because their spirit did.
However, in a world of algorithms and ever-shifting aesthetics, it is all too easy to drift. Social pressure and external validation can creep into the artist’s world, subtly promising visibility and applause.
But what is visibility worth if we’ve become invisible to ourselves?
Whether we are painting, dancing, writing, sculpting, singing, or simply dreaming, we must always return to our essence. Our art does not need to trend to matter. It does not need to go viral to be valid. The truest thing we can offer the world is our undiluted presence. Living our inner vision, and heartbeat in our colours, in words, or songs.
My position is to remember what art is for, knowing that it is not to be explained, but to be felt and not created for applause, but to awaken the sacred beauty in others. I have decided to make the kind of art that stirs the soul and sparks the spirit. Even if it’s creating for my own spirit. See, art is both a pleasure and a necessity. Humans are indeed designed to be wondrous and creative creatures.
Our world needs to celebrate life by lifting one another, not toward perfection, but toward the beautiful presence of being our creative selves.
Heart to Heart and Spirit to Spirit, Elizabeth
Artist Statement – This work emerged through a process of intuitive layering — a painting beneath another, guided not by plan but by presence. What lies beneath still breathes through the surface, echoing a deeper memory or message. The monochromatic red evokes both intensity and intimacy, a kind of sacred bloodline or inner fire. This is a piece about remembering — not with the mind, but with the body and the soul. It is a portal, a pulsing veil, a hidden rhythm revealed.
Inspired by the quote: “Life gives you plenty of time to do whatever you want to do if you stay in the present moment.” — Deepak Chopra
This quote centres on a soft truth—a reminder that time becomes spacious and generous when aligned with your presence. We often battle with time in a world that races ahead with to-do lists, deadlines, and digital noise.
We say, “I don’t have enough hours in the day,” or “There’s never enough time to do what I truly want.” But what if it’s not the clock’s ticking that binds us—but our absence from the present moment? The present moment is more than a concept—it is the living gateway where life unfolds. It is the sacred terrain of the now, the only place where real change, healing, creativity, and joy can occur.
When we truly place ourselves in the present moment, we step outside the illusion of scarcity. Time slows. Space opens. You feel, see and hear your true self again.
You might have noticed it in small moments—when you lose yourself in your craft, a conversation that stirs your spirit, or the hush of nature. Time bends. Hours dissolve. And somehow, everything feels possible.
Many years ago, I experienced this truth in the most unexpected place—on a morning television talk show. I had been invited as a guest to do a makeover on a woman. We began with a heartfelt conversation on the studio couch, sharing pieces of her story. But it was backstage, in the green room, that the real magic took place.
As I began the makeover—applying her makeup, cutting and blow-drying her hair, and styling her in a new outfit—I entered a heightened zone I had never known before. It was as though time expanded, allowing me to create with precision and grace.
A chatty young woman hovered nearby, attempting to engage, but I simply looked up at her with a soft but clear gaze—a gentle authority—and she moved on without a word. I was entirely in the now. There was no rush, no cluttered mind, just my full presence. And in just 40 minutes, an entire transformation took place—not just externally—but something deeper, more radiant. A soul remembered.
Being present in the now, creates your authentic Presence!
That experience stayed with me. It taught me that your presence is your secret power. When fully engaged in the moment, without distraction or doubt, we awaken to an extraordinary creative force within us. It’s not just about doing more—it’s about being more present to what we are doing.
The truth is that life is not too short; we spend too much of it in the past or trying to rush into futures that haven’t arrived. We dwell on regrets, replaying old stories. Or we project our fears forward, trying to control outcomes. Either way, we miss the gift wrapped around the present moment. To stay in the present moment is not to ignore plans or dreams. It is to arrive fully in what is right now, so that our actions are infused with clarity, our choices are shaped by alignment, and our presence is charged with divine power. It is in the now that our true self speaks, our soul guides, and our deepest desires begin to crystallise into form.
So if you feel like you’re running out of time—pause. Breathe. Return to the moment that’s right in front of you. Here, you will find more than minutes or hours. You will find enough. Enough energy, enough grace, enough direction to do whatever it is your soul came here to do. Because life, in all its wisdom, doesn’t rush us. It waits patiently and faithfully until we are ready to return to the only place where magic, meaning, and miracles live: the present.
What is one desire or dream you’ve been putting off because you believe you don’t have enough time?
How can you bring a piece of that dream into this moment, today?
There’s an old Chinese proverb that echoes with quiet thunder:
“The person who says it cannot be done should not interrupt the person doing it.”
Ah yes. How many times have you felt the sting of scepticism brush against your wild, luminous vision? The world loves to remind you of the rules—what’s practical, what’s proven, what’s permitted. But you, radiant one, were not born to follow the lines drawn by someone else’s fear. You were born to be the artist of possibility.
Here’s the thing: doubt is loud when it’s idle. But creation hums with a sacred frequency, often silent and unseen until—suddenly—it’s undeniable. The ones who believe something can’t be done are usually standing at the edge, questioning the path, while you’ve already carved your own trail through unmarked wilderness.
You see, the Light Leader doesn’t wait for approval. She listens to the call of her soul’s blueprint, trusts the timing of her inner compass, and keeps weaving her sacred story in the face of doubt. While others debate, she builds. While others caution, she creates. This is not arrogance. This is alignment.
In the Living Attributes lexicon, this is the archetype of the Higher Purpose Avatar rising. She isn’t loud. She is focused. She doesn’t chase validation. She embodies vibration. She’s not here to argue—she’s here to activate.
To all the visionaries, wisdom keepers, late bloomers, and radiant revolutionaries: keep doing that thing that lights you up. Keep walking the path only your feet can find. Let the voices of limitation pass over you like wind through trees. Because you are the forest, the seed, and the bloom.
And the next time someone says, “That can’t be done,” just smile softly, keep going and whisper to your Soul—“Then I must be the one who came here to do it.”
Elizabeth Ellames 