And the Wilderbeast came

The Wilderbeast came to me one night in my sleep. I’m not sure where he came from. I do wonder if I had been watching too much Lion King with my son. I’ll never know anything more certain than the fact that he came, and he came cloaked in patchwork African wax print. His timing was perfect, arriving just at the moment when I felt one of many creative itches swelling beneath the surface and he came at a time when I felt this new flow of something. Something good.

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And so the night after he came I got out my HB and a scrap of cardboard and I drew him, covering his silhouette with cut up pieces of scrap African fabric and mod podge. That night I fell deeply in love with him. Really he had come to me as a wildebeest and a wildebeest he remained, but not quite. We played and I got to know the little wildebeest and I realised that he was more wilder than wilde and more beast than beest. So too was I.

He was a keeper, my Wilderbeast; a new beginning. He just seemed to capture so much. I had to do something with him. That something turned into this, my little creative stomping ground to share the things I love – writing, making, creating, teaching, dancing and living. I have gathered all my strewn houses (all those half-loved websites and blogs) and given them land here. I’ll share my stories and I’ll hope you’ll share yours too.

Psst… don’t forget to come over and like the Wilderbeast Facebook page. There’ll be lots of inspiring moments over there too. 

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