‘I like your feet their different’ he looked straight in my eyes spinning me out of orbit. Not no one has made a point of liking my feet… with their distinct inheritance… the foot specialist said they were not bunions but called Hallex ****

I’ve always kept my feet out of direct shot Trying so hard to love their wonky table aesthetics as lester says…or plates… skewith and both different.

Richard would say hooves….Feet are covered and yet very important…my feet have always been wonked and yet deep down I know that they serve me and ground me, and dance me and there’s some very unusual activity in them, that I feel is to do with my spacey background and act as radar to my home planet….heh hum

I’m very open but private and protective and honestly insecure about this extreme sensitive subject and wonder why bother… yet like my handy hands… that work so well on  most things and i must admit I like them… yet feet…

Yet I noticed I said to Metta-Angel you can never get vain with feet like mine she said yup you’re right there!

My mum always said a man doesn’t fall in love with your feet he falls for your virtue ok unmade that up but I im Like that and mum actually said with you … with you…darling

Cara Mia Carina Mia dear Mia

You chose an extenuating feature and  your feet service your who you are and happens to do a very dainty and pretty witty repartee, a soupe song and a gallopy energetic and gapey kind of absolutely you.

And to prove a point I trained as a reflexologist and studied well and what a extraordinary chance of finding an art crafted to the wondrous and dextrous handy helping hands that scrunch and push past into the tender spaces that ooze energy leaving the vivid wide open spaces to expand from the caress be it hard, tense as feelings float bubbling up through the mystical sensory synapses of the intracellular micro molecular constellations out through body mirror systems guided intuitively pressing points particularly the fifth dimension of the solar plexus, the point of no return that sends universal signals to the muscle group,  meridians, neurones receptors captivating the electrons pulsating spark lit fusion connections that snap, crackle and buzz the whirling wonder unseen world of body soul spirit multi-sensational growing out of relief pure relief , blissed and conscious contemplation, ah the soft and hard press, push-pull effleurage, the reflexologist mixes her  combination bag of elementals,  flooding endocrine, stimulating master glands as they secrete and target  molecular ATP multi perceptive and crusading right thinking leading to right being powering up limbic yearnings of another time that  supporting the ever floweth bridges that allow all parts in the chi life currents of conscious mosaics meeting in the middle.

The whole foot mirrors all the body systems and organs, of course they do..Cardiovascular, digestive, lymphatic, sympathetic and parasympathetic muscular skeletal cells,  endocrine, skin, spleen, pancreatic, yeah.

Then we go to another plain where we enter the etheric, astral, cosmic orders that raise our chakras with vatta pitta and kapha. 

Yes it’s about then realigning or matching vibratory quiverings that squelch a higher dimension sequestering higher purpose waking opening as from another sleep

My mother gave me her shape as her mother too… mum was convinced we were concubines from china a few thousand years ago or did she mean a few hundred years….

Whatever she was very passionate about her saying they’re so odd-looking cos they were bound in bandages and broken so the toes would break and become stunted. Painful and they couldn’t walk in fitful strides as it was jolly painful so all they could manage was tip toe type shuffle wearing wooden painted boxy shoes. It was hard and harsh.

Yeah my feet have weather radar depicting how swollen, sore, throbby they would feel

I also remember when I was a big dresser upper, I tried heals from the tender beginnings as a 16-year-old at The Brunel Rooms, in Swindon dancing my socks off but In so much agony at the end of the night but I was young, still a bit of a wall flower/follower and continued punishing my feet with pointy, Healy, such and such.

I was always waiting to kick them off and walk barefooted and sometimes squeaks of my feet came out to feel the Earth in all her textures, grassy bouncy hotty rough sandy stoney watery and roughshod

I loved those precious moments

Onions out and the prone foot squishy squashy stretching freeing oozing drawing on the rippling rapture of surrendering

Free!

Then once I got into my stride and hit the mean streets or paths paved in glitter and gold, where the look was your individual sovereignty and a very enthusiastic approach that lept open with every vintage find, cut and style a la moda ah the thrill of finding beautiful unusual unique garments was cracking and I began to swap heals for baseball boots, converse, monkey boots, doc martins, then another era herald in with flats, trainers, mountain boots crept in

It didn’t matter as I sincerely delve intuitively into the deep sands of dressing up with my abandon

And mostly wore flats

I then became bolder more recently with more confidence growing through self work self-care and self-awareness to throwing off the vanity insecurity as the result the work was astounding

My later forties has their value and also mass waking up accelerations

Shifting out of my sedated meandering I got head on with my behaviours and overall perception of the old paradigm

I was going out of control crashing and cascading uncontrollably in self lack

Then I faced the demons one by one

And became interested in the other world internally

It hurt it felt off out of whack and weirdly right on target…and just became my self, foot sure!