Sunday, 23 December 2012

Feliz Navidad de Alcazar, Andalucia,  Spain

No water in the  village for the last 48 hours.  Not complaining, just adjusting!

Crystals.  During a crystal healing  workshop on Saturday in the Lecrin Valley, surrounded by orange trees...

Crystal Cave in Paraguay.
 a   young psychic woman started telling me 'things' about my connection to disadvantaged children in the third world, especially in Peru and Bolivia.
As she talked about my passion for these little beings,  tears streamed down my face.  I don't know why I'm feeling so tearful I told her. I honestly didn't.  Suddenly my  whole body was filled with a gripping pain.

'You love them so much  because they're like  your own children, ' she said.
'Yes...'  I replied slowly. 

As I lay on a makeshift bed of deep blue pillows, Emma intuitively placed the quartz, fluorite and amethyst crystals onto my third chackra.  Their immediate  effect was like a drug.  Silently, I felt myself  sinking into a bottomless void. The pain  subsided.

'Christmas is a strange time for me' I told her.

'It's such a family time isn't it?'

My voice sounded odd. I lost all sense of time and place.


'Most children come into the world into the loving arms of their mother,' I heard myself say.
'they arrive into a welcoming extended family.
 I came into the  world and went  straight into an Irish orphanage.'

 This is a simple fact of my life.  It was not a cry  for sympathy.

 Emma placed another bluey green fluorite crystal beside the others, dousing to see if they were 'working.'

They were.

Crystals have extraordinary  properties.  I've believed this  for many years. 
Strange that I've never  voiced my past quite  like this before.
Lovely  how this empathy and compassion now feels grounded and understood in a new way.

Five days later on the Internet I read :
Fluorite is a particularly beneficial healing crystal for the mind. It promotes the organization of information. It helps to link new information with what is already known, encouraging useful connections between ideas for deeper understanding.

On Friday, we were told the world would end.

I filled my car with petrol and took out half the money I have in the bank!  The money  now lives it in a chubby, yellow metal box with a  fat key. Two  keys actually.

I wrote  in a jotter  - great little  word that isn't it - 'it's  hidden  on top of '...because I don't trust my memory these days.
Just hope I remember  where I've put that jotter ( notebook),  now where did I put the keys ?
Ah yes....!

So the  world didn't end on Friday.

I didn't think it would.   But,  I did consider that our planet could get hit by a meteorite.

Apart from those two small actions which felt  strangely spooky - but comfortingly necessary - I had a lovely peaceful day on Friday feeling that huge love for the neglected children of the world, and tuning into what was going on in Bolivia.

Now if  the so called ' Shift ' means we can all access these profound states of love,  connection, and compassion at least some of the  time, then hallelujah.
Really, really hallelujah.

While I was writing in my jotter where I'd  hidden  my  little yellow box, Bolivian President  Evo Morales was heading towards the Isla del Sol on  Lake Titicaca, in a boat made of reeds..

He'd invited many heads of states and spiritual leaders world wide, not to mention Nobel prize winners  to gather there, to welcome in  the new Era of Love and Compassion. 

He said  'We  will  mark the end of capitalism and  welcome  a new era of brotherhood and world cooperation. I hope this includes sisterhood. 
In front of all his  guest  and with indigenous spiritual elders and priests ,  Morales would perform a sacred  fire ceremony in the company of thousands of indigenous people , invited guests and others.

Tuesday, 20 November 2012

Two different kinds of Christmas



After a month of trying to contact Bolivian Ramiro Llanos, prison  director of San Pedro prison  in La Paz, this morning I heard  via the prison dentist, that the prison authorities will be delighted for us to send Christmas present art packs and balloons  for  the 160 children who live in this  prison with their dads.   Christmas in prison??

In Bolivia it's  common for children to live in prisons with their incarcerated parent.  This will happen if there isn't anybody else to look after them. 

How can this happen?

Mothers may also  be in prison, or have left the family, grandparents maybe to too frail or too  poor to help.
The alternative is that the children are dumped on the street.  Many are. 

 160  girls and boys under 6 years  live  in San Pedro prison with their dads.

But first, here's a litte info about our other fund raising projects.

The  community   in Orgiva, Andalucia, Spain are fund raising for 
Christmas Chocolatadas in Peru and Bolivia. 

This  means   thousands of children in many remote villages near Machu Picchu will  receive a mug of  hot chocolate, a sticky bun, and  a little gift the week before Christmas. This will be the only Christmas  gift they will receive.

We are  also supporting two food kitchens for underprivileged children in Ollantaytambo and Ccapi in the province of Cusco, Peru. They will also have their own Chocolatadas.(

What happens on the Chocolatada day in Peru ?

Teams of volunteers, lead by Carlos and Washi Gibaja, go from  village to village in an area near Machu Picchu, playing games with the children while the mothers make the hot chocolate on an open  fire. It's a blast ! Everybody has a great time.
The last few years we've had enough money to not only bring Father Christmas along, but clowns and a musician .

A Chocolatada Day is a  very special day in the year for everybody involved.

 Kids in prison with their dads. A very different Christmas.

When I read about these young  children I was shocked.  Imagine your children or grandchildren spending Christmas  in a prison. 

 My fund raising team agreed wholeheartedly to  support a Christmas project for them.  A small  art pack for each child  seemed like a good idea:  a box of wax crayons -no sharpers needed- a small paint box, and a drawing book, plus  a few balloons each, fitted the bill. 

There are absolutely no facilities whatsoever in the prison for children.  There are no guards inside the prison.  The prisoners 'rule' themselves.

 My friend Ivan Nogales (  - who runs an arts centre  for youth at risk in El Alto, Bolivia - which we  also support at Christmas- will buy the supplies.  He will deliver the art packs to the prison on the 24th of December.

 I  don't know yet if we will have enough money to offer the prison children a Chocolatada as well. I really hope so.

So dear, dear readers of my blog world wide, this is the first time I have ever asked you for your help.  
If you would like to support this project of sending art supplies to the children in San Pedro Prison,  La Paz, Bolivia,  your help would be priceless.

Rather than set up a donations page  On Line  which takes a percentage of the money raised, I decided to ask Face Book friends worldwide if they would like to send me a note in the currency of their country, and I will change this into euros.   US dollars would be the easiest to change. Can you do the same?

I'll  then send  the money by Western Union to Ivan, who will buy  and deliver the art packs to the prison on the 24th of December.
We need to recieve the money by the 12th of December.

 Would you like to light up a little  child's face  this Christmas, a child who is living in the most horrendous conditions amongst murderers, rapists, drug dealers, and thieves?

My community here in Spain is gearing  up  for our 5th fund raiser for children in need in Peru and Boliva. There isn't much money spare in Spain at the moment, so any donations you can send will be gratefully received, and will make a huge difference.

If  you possibly can,  please  put a small note in an envelope and send it me at:

Meg Robinson
Lista de Correos
Orgiva 18400
Granada Spain.

Please make sure to add your email so I can thank you personally.

Every small gesture helps.

“Because of your smile, you make life more beautiful.”

Thich Nhat Hanh  Peru. Great photos of the Chocolatadas.  Bolivia.

Please don't register your envelope. The Post office won't accept registered mail. For other ways of donating,or more info, you can email me at :




Saturday, 13 October 2012

Letting go.

Three weeks ago I drove  my 18 year old car over 1000 kms  to the tiny village of Farrera in the Spanish Pyrenees, to try to paint my way back into writing my screenplay.
My destination was  El Centre d’Art i Natura,  'a  truly inspiring  place for artists and researchers from all over the world.'  It's situated at an altitude of 1,360 m in the heart of the Catalan Pyrenees, 250 km from Barcelona and not far from Andorra.   The village  benefits from - the website says-  an exceptionally  peaceful setting, ideally suited to reflection, inspiration and creative work. I knew this  to be true.  My last visit was  eight years ago.

By the first weekend, what happened, to my great surprise,  was that I  let my screenplay go.  I said a swift silent  goodbye  to four years  work, and adios to an exciting  dream.

How did this happen ?

Sunday, 30 September 2012

Farrera, Centre d'Art i Natura.

So here I am back again in Farrera, a tiny village with 22 inhabitants in the Spanish Pyrenees, two and a half days drive from where I live in Andalucia. My last residency here was eight years ago.

Farrera is a magical place where artists, writers, musicians and scientists come to live together- merge- and work on their individual projects related to mountains. Some stay for a month. I'm here for two weeks. My project is to paint my way back into my screenplay, which is set in Patagonia and Bolivia.
My companions at Farrera this week have been two young women. One has inspired me greatly with her project to record the sounds of the village and surrounding valleys. I never noticed how sweet the sound of gentle rain is, nor how exciting the sound of footsteps on uneven terrain. Odile has also introduced me the work of two film makers ( animators) whose work I find fascinating. I'll post the info below.

Last year, after eighteen months working on the screen play, it ground to a halt.

It wasn't just writers block. I couldn't decide whose story it really was. Was it the young French ( disinherited) artist whose baby has been kidnapped, or the guilt wracked Jewish grandmother? Or is it the granddaughters story, the kidnapped child who grows up to become a singer with an exceptional voice. Two different perspectives on the loss of a child, three generations of creativity blocked and un- blocked, and ultimately a story of healing and hope peppered with exciting art, music, dance, acrobatics and clever animation. Can't wait to see to see it !!
But Oh! The back story.
In screenwriting it's a case of show don't tell. How to explain- how to show the complicated back story- very tricky.
Last year I decided to use animation for this, but still the story stayed mute, deep frozen.

In the early 1980's I wrote four screenplays. As I stepped into my new life as a step mother in  1985, many things came to a halt, and a few things flourished unexpectedly.

My first two days at Farrera were magic. My protagonist showed up big time, Rachel, the young artist.


Monday, 3 September 2012

Healing / Dreams

“The emotion that can break your heart is sometimes the very one that heals it...”
Nicholas Sparks, At First Sight

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”

Please click on the last image to see all images larger. These are digital images derived from a collage I made last week.

And so the journey to heal the arthritis in my legs  continues.  My dream is to be able to ride a horse again.  Some days I can't walk up the stairs.

And today, I discovered my real dream is much bigger than just to sit astride a horse again.

There are  two ways to visit the 70 remote, isolated families my  young Peruvian friend and I are supporting each winter in the  High Andes of Peru. One is to trek, the other is to ride.  Walking would take three days,  and at high altitude (around 4500m, 14.900 feet) that would take  some training.
My intention, my dream is make this journey on horseback.

Four years ago I visited this family who live eight hours walk above Ollantaytambo, which is near Machu Picchu. The full story of our winter project is on the website below.

Tuesday, 17 July 2012


Friday 13th is often said to be an unlucky day. For me it brought pure Alegria (happiness).

The day started early, I was in Motril by 9am. The fine grey material covering the inside of the roof of my 18 year old car had collapsed in places, so driving - when the window was open- had become like having a large sheet trampolining on and off my head .
There was a real possibility of being enshrouded at any moment, so, it had to be fixed.

There was a real possibility of being enshrouded at any moment, so, it had to be fixed.
 The repair job was going to take four hours. It would coast 100€.

I took a new book to read to bide my time.
It was too hot to go exploring the city.
The book had been waiting to be picked up for at least three months. Funny how the day, the hour, the minute have to be just right for each new read.
 Called 'An Irish Tale of a Modern Mystic' the author,Tantra Matt, was a friend of a friend.

The day promised to be a scorcher. To pass the four hours peacefully, I planned to move from cafe to cafe, reading, alternating between decaf coffees and glasses of ice cold water.

 During my first delicious decaf coffee con leche (with milk) - sitting on the terrace of the bar opposite the garage- my attention was taken by a filthy little dog shaking with fear. Completely confused, he seemed to be searching for his owner, or desperately, unsuccessfully, trying to come up with a plan B. Where to go, what to do?

Obviously abandoned some time ago, he was a picture of neglect, terror, and helplessness. His mangy long tail looked like a feather duster dipped in something sticky.

I tried to attract his attention. This is not a habit of mine. I am not a doggy person, yet. He smelt the food from the bar and came closer. Then he noticed me making odd faces and strange noises, and smiled. Well, something akin. It didn't take long for us both to fall deeply in love.

Thursday, 28 June 2012

Glasgow Helen's garden

Helen in Glasgow has been my friend for 62 years ! Her daughter died six years ago leaving a one year old golden child. He is the sun in Helens life.
I don't see my garden as you see it Helen said.
The rain stops for a few hours.
You usually do that sometimes, don´t you ! A line from Scottish folk song. Helen is a musician.
Joy is what happens when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things really are. By Marianne Williamson
sadness changes its face in a garden...
Thomas honoring his mothers wedding anniversary, and then...
a game of football for the wee fella.

Saturday, 9 June 2012

Rezando por 19 jóvenes. Thinking of Bolivia.

Creo que aquí es donde ocurrió el accidente en Bolivia. Rezando por la comodidad para las familias de los 19 jóvenes atletas que perdieron la vida en un accidente de autobús hace unos días. Los jóvenes viajaban a La Paz desde el pueblo de Chulumani y sus alrededores, a 180 kilómetros al noroeste de la capital. This beautiful scene -not my photo- is where 19 young Bolivian athletes ( aged between 14- 19)lost their lives a few days ago. I invite you to join me in sending the families your most loving thoughts and prayers, that they may in time be able to come to terms with and overcome their losses. The children were on their way from the country - the beautiful village of Chulumani in The Yungas area - to La Paz for a sports event. "When we leave this world, how much we have loved will be our true legacy. It is the only thing we will leave behind and carry with us." By Anne Siloy "Cuando dejamos este mundo, cuánto hemos amado será nuestro verdadero legado. Es lo único que dejará atrás y llevar con nosotros." Por Anne Siloy Когда мы покинем этот мир, как сильно мы любили будет наше истинное наследие. Это единственное, что мы оставим позади и провести с нами. Энн Siloy If you are wondering why I am writing, truth be told- Google translating into Russian- it's because there are a few thousand folk following the blog in Russia.

Sunday, 27 May 2012

Adventures from my doorstep.
Fiesta at Puerto Juviley, Andalucia , Spain.
Lunch ? Err well... two hours later...
Smelling is important...
needs more salt...
waiting for lunch...
and then
Swedish Inger buying from the craft stall !
Wendy whose partner Angus makes the fabulous flags.
and music...