spirit guides

“Spike”

| Midnight Moon

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Every now and then, I like to reflect on my path: everything I’ve learned and experienced over the last decade. One of my favorite things to reflect on is my relationship with my primary guide — my closest companion in spirit.

I call him “Spike,” and no, that’s not a name I came up with. Yes, I realize that’s a strange name for a spirit guide.

A decade ago, I learned of spirit guides and began a skeptical attempt at meeting my own. My teenage self loved the idea of having friends in spirit, but it was extremely difficult for me to grasp the idea and truly believe that these beings existed alongside me. What if it was just all in my head? Fantasies my dreaming mind came up with for some semblance of connection? Some days, the attempts felt silly.

And then I had a dream.

It was a bizarre dream, and one I wouldn’t ordinarily associate with meeting a powerful entity in spirit. The short of it was that I was escorted to an apartment by an unfamiliar man (who honestly gave me the impression of a mafia boss). The apartment had about a dozen unfamiliar people in it of varying ages. Everyone was gathered around one young man in particular, however: a twenty-something, blond, blue-eyed, and dressed somewhat like a hipster. I’d never seen the guy in my life, but in the dream, I knew him. Felt comfortable around him. I lounged around him like he was my best friend, despite the air of respect he seemed to command.

And when I woke, I knew his name was “Spike.”

Here’s the thing: I never remember names from dreams. I can’t even recall any other name I woke up remembering from a dream. This is the only time I remember waking up with a specific name in mind. The whole experience stuck with me, and upon waking, I realized with growing excitement that I may have just met my guide. It was a bizarre setting, and not at all what I expected, but that’s the thing, isn’t it? Spirit is rarely what we expect.

It took me years to realize that Spike’s choice of appearance/identity was tailored specifically for my teenage self, to help me better connect. Additional dreams and other odd experiences reinforced that connection over the following months. I had just started high school, more or less, and was drawn to alternative culture, being an artsy type. Nothing illicit, as I had no interest in any of that, but I could appreciate hipster/gothy fashion, which was how Spike presented himself to me. This identity made him more relatable — not the spooky “spirit” that my mind had trouble grasping.

For the next few years, I developed a relationship with Spike, learning more about him and trying my damnedest to communicate. At the time, his energy felt so subtle, so distant, that most of my information came through dreams or art that we created together. Often times, I would try to write with him, but I found these sorts of sessions weren’t as successful as intuitive or visual ones.

And that, of course, was frustrating to a young me, who was learning how to develop and trust her intuition. Clairaudience doesn’t come naturally to me, so I have a tougher time trying to intuit words or phrases than feelings or images. More than half the time I tried conversing with Spike, it felt like I was grasping at amorphous ideas, wisps of communication filtered down from the spiritual planes. Spike, however, was patient with me, and often stressed trusting my intuition.

In late 2011, I was messaged by someone I didn’t know — someone who told me she felt compelled to share information with me regarding Spike. She proceeded to tell me things that confirmed thoughts I had about our relationship, and conclusions to which I’d arrived. She told me, “I get the strong impression the reason it is hard for him to contact you with words is that he comes from so ‘far away’ (in terms of his advanced evolution) that it’s hard for him to get ‘low’ enough to speak to you directly.” She also confirmed that he and I share an incredibly deep connection, formed over “many lifetimes and many realms,” and that this is why I’m his only “student” in the physical.

I did not know this woman, but her out-of-the-blue message was confirmation that I so desperately needed at the time. There was a lot more to her message, and I was delighted to hear every single word. She did not ask for anything in return; she simply wanted to share a message to help a struggling teenager connect with a source of significant spiritual wisdom. Nearly eight years later, I’m still grateful to that woman. Her message gave me the confidence I needed to keep working on my intuition and my connection with Spike.

Today, Spike presents himself differently to me. In recent years, he’s shed the lovable hipster guise and adopted something more appropriate for his energy. I see him as more androgynous, with a balance between masculine and feminine energies. The portrait you see above was an interpretation from 2016, when I first noticed the changes. I wouldn’t consider it completely accurate now, but I’ll get there in time. As for his name? “Spike” doesn’t quite suit his identity and energy anymore, but I’ve known him for a decade by that name, and it feels wrong to refer to him as anything but “Spike” or “S.” It’s kind of a hilarious contrast, anyway.

Our relationship is a deep and loving one, but I wouldn’t call it “romantic.” I feel as though we may have shared lives like that, however, which will be interesting to explore in the future. My love for him is from the soul, and while I haven’t connected with him in the last few years, I know he understands. In fact, he probably supported my “distance” from him, knowing that I was learning valuable lessons in the midst of figuring out young adulthood.

But now? Now I’ve reached a point where I know I deserve better. I know I have a path, and a purpose, and I’m ready to manifest a life of emotional, creative, and physical abundance. I will need both Spike and Morpheus to help me get there, and as I understand it, Spike has some exciting things lined up for me this year.

Let 2019 mark the year when I planted and watered the seeds of my dreams, because 2020 carries some powerful energy, and I plan to collect.

(Hilarious side note: as I was proofreading this, “Meant to Be” by Bebe Rexha popped into my head.)

 

Intuitive Art

| Midnight Moon

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Having recently launched my own little Etsy shop and Ko-Fi corner, I thought this would be a good opportunity to talk about my own history and process with intuitive art!

Intuitive art is something I explored in-depth several years ago in my late teens and early twenties. I honestly cannot remember what inspired me to try it; I may have started with trying to draw my own guide(s) and branched out from there. At the time, I was part of a spirituality forum, so I had plenty of people to work with. Intuitive/psychic art isn’t a common form of reading, so I imagine many of those people were intrigued by the notion of receiving a visual reading. I know I certainly was.

I spent a couple years or so experimenting with various forms of intuitive art: simple energy paintings, spirit guide interpretations, higher self interpretations, soul connection portraits, and even aura paintings and past life paintings. I was hungry for information. I wanted to know what the limits were. At what point could I no longer intuit spiritual information?

While I don’t yet know the answer to that question, I do know that my art helped a lot of people, and that in itself was a major motivator. I remember livestreaming sessions where I would paint and the sitter would watch, with a handful of other people chiming in with information they were sensing from my art. I remember people recognizing almost instantly the spirit guide I had painted for them. Even the handful of past life paintings seemed to resonate with the sitters. It was wild.

Never in a million years would I have guessed that this was a skill I could share with the world. I spent much of my childhood as an artsy kid, doodling on scrap paper in school, filling sketchbook after sketchbook with art class assignments or original characters from my stories. I was one of those young artists who sought a life of creativity. “I’ll publish books and illustrate,” I decided upon graduating high school. I attended an expensive art school and lasted two years before I realized art school had killed my passion for drawing.

That was in 2013. Fast-forward to today. I’ve barely drawn in the last several years. I threw myself into writing and gaming and work, instead. Only within the last couple months have I felt the desire to return to art, and I’m sure that’s for a reason. I want to help others with my creations — even if the only thing my creations do is make someone feel happy.

Process

Intuitive art is a strange and subtle thing. When I’m working, the process feels so natural that it’s wild for me to think that I may be connecting with something deeper. I usually begin with colors, because colors come through more easily than shapes or concepts. Once I have colors, I just begin painting. I build up shapes such as faces, bodies, and symbols. As I work, I slide into a focused state. I’m not sure if I could call it trance-like, because I’m still highly aware of what I’m doing, but I have a flow going that I try not to break by talking, typing, or clicking away.

The intuitive part comes in when I’m trying to piece together details, such as colors, facial expressions, symbolism, and even things like hair or dress, which I don’t tend to render in detail (unless the art demands it). Usually, I’ll sit there and feel, “This isn’t right,” and fix something, or I’ll have the urge to incorporate a detail, like a symbol or a certain form of attire. All of it is so subtle that it feels as though I’m simply drawing anything else.

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Due to the nature of my process, these spirit portraits are not intended to be realistic or technically accurate. I focus more on emotions, energies, colors, and symbolism, which I feel is easier for someone else to resonate with. People place different values on physical appearance, so I choose to create portraits that are ethereal, almost alien, with hopes that my clients can connect with the energy conveyed.

As my technical skill improves, my portraits may look a bit more realistic, but for now, technical accuracy is not my goal. My goal is to convey feeling. I want my clients to be able to receive a portrait that they can use as a tool for connection, whether it’s an actual representation of their companions in spirit or a bridge to a more personal relationship. If even one aspect of my art helps my clients, then I will feel as though I’ve succeeded.

While my medium is primarily digital, I am open to exploring intuitive art through traditional mediums — especially paints and inks. However, my space is rather limited in my current apartment, so this may have to wait until the future.

Regardless, I look forward to seeing how this skill evolves!

Offering of Renewal

| Midnight Moon

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For a while, I debated posting this piece online because it didn’t feel finished or refined enough. I realize, however, that there is no reason for shame here. It doesn’t matter if a personal piece is a little rough around the edges so long as it conveys what it needs to convey, and I think I’ve done that well enough.

As I promised myself in last night’s post, I sat down with Morpheus and called upon my friends in spirit, asking to paint my primary guide. I haven’t worked with my spirit companions in at least a few years, and it’s been difficult for me to discern whether the roster has changed, so to speak. In some ways, I was a little afraid of what I’d find out, because I spent my early spiritual years connecting deeply with my primary guide, and I always feared that he would move on, as I understand some guides do. This entity had a major influence on my ability to intuit information, and to actually trust that information. I would’ve hated to see him go.

But when I sat down to paint last night, the imagery came effortlessly. Almost too effortlessly. Those self-doubting thoughts crept back up: I’m just painting what I want to see. But the interesting thing was, I barely received any impressions while painting. Usually, when I’m painting, I intuit things that have to be included, or changed, or emphasized. With this piece, I received basically nothing — most likely because I’m already familiar with this energy.

My primary guide, from years past.

On one hand, I should have known, but on the other, there’s been so little connection between us for the last few years that I could never tell whether he ‘moved on’ or if I was so deeply entrenched in physical life that I was blind to everything he tried to communicate. Maybe I simply needed time to live, to figure out how to be a young adult in the crazy, modern world. Maybe I needed to explore myself and learn my lessons through travels and challenges and new people. Maybe I needed space.

I would therefore consider this painting an offering of renewal. I’m a much different person now. I’ve had my space and my time, and now I must continue the work I came here to complete. Perhaps it’s time to reconnect with my beloved companion in spirit, alongside Morpheus.

This is an entity I know as Spike. No, I didn’t come up with that name. Yes, I plan to reflect on that story.

For now, I must wind down for the night. Morpheus beckons.