The Colour of Magic (Just Add Water)

A thunderstorm arrived yesterday in my magic kingdom. Inky clouds and hailstorms reigned, as the gigantic beech tree that towers over my cabin swayed and lightning flashed. Was this the end of my sweet retreat? The moment everything in my life was about to come crashing, literally, through the roof? And how heavy were those old branches above me, anyway? They looked the size of telegraph poles.

I waited — contemplating global warming, hailstones in July, and what it might feel like to be crushed — and then it stopped. The sun came out, and my heart lit up. I saw not one, but two rainbows sitting one on top of the other, arcs straddling the sky. It was beautiful. 

As I gazed in wonder, catching a few flies since it was a long gaze and ponder, it struck me how interesting it was that rainbows only arrived when water was present. A bit like those magic painting books we had as kids - add water and colour appears. 

In a sense, water seemed to be the conduit for Colour Magic.   What a lovely thought. 

After The Storm

I never quite understood what a rainbow was until yesterday.  As a child, I was given various explanations: a promise from some god on high he wouldn’t drown me; an arrow pointing to where leprechauns buried abandoned gold; a place where dreams reside and Dorothy’s home somewhere over it. But one thing nobody ever told me is that rainbows are round.

Yes, you read it right. Rainbows are actually full circles. We only see part of them because we’re on the ground and the other half is chopped off by the horizon. Up in an aeroplane, however, you can sometimes see a whole one. 
The double ones, I found out, are light reflected twice inside the raindrop. The visible colours -  red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet - are only part of the rainbow. There’s also infrared beyond the red light, ultraviolet beyond violet, radio waves beyond infrared, x-rays beyond ultraviolet and gamma radiation beyond x-rays.  And these light waves can all be detected with an instrument called a spectrometer.
So, once again, energetic waves come into play, this time not sound but electro-magnetic. This is surely magic?
And if all this is true, then it strikes me the sun is radiating the colour of magic every day. We just can't see it. My mind is blown. 

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Following my rainbow to pots of gold, and dreams generally, one of the biggest things I healed on the road in America was my belief in love. 
I am a dyed in the wool romantic.  A born dreamer, astrologically tossed about by my Sun, Mercury and Neptune all conjunct in Scorpio. I won’t explain that one, just take it from me, it’s a nebulous and deep sea I sometimes navigate, and perfect if you’re a musician. But the bubble being popped on my dream love - which I’d lived in quite happily for twelve years - was a bit like the lights coming on at the end of a disco. Or when priests lose their faith and have to leave their church.  I’d lived my entire life believing in magic, meaning, love and all these intangibles. I’d taken a path that honoured them, mysteriously pulling songs out of the ether, gone to higher places with and without people (without drugs, I’d like to add) so it was all very real to me. Then one day it went pop. Suddenly it felt like the phone line to my higher place had been severed. Everything suddenly seemed a bit pointless. 
The result — stumbling painfully through life for a while, trying to re-find my mojo, having my big wake-up call, buying a little guitar and going to America. And as most of you know, in Heathrow departure lounge, rediscovering magic. That’s when ‘Chicago’ landed, the first track on 'Sweet Decline’.

Bob Dylan's Orchard

Bob Dylan once said he picked his songs out of the air like apples. This is how it felt for me, once I let go of expectations and fears, and set off on my journey. I found I was in an abundant invisible orchard with apples ripe and ready to be picked. I started seeing them out of the corner of my eye, and the further I travelled, and the more in flow and intentionally connected to everyone with love — the more songs came, and more miracles. It was very like seeing rainbows, only I had to add something other than water to the mix. I had to add belief.  

Don’t Stop Believing

I’ll never stop believing in magic. A beautiful energy exists in the ether surrounding us - I know this - with all its synchronicities and all those connecting dots waiting to become something.  Thoughts become things, as I wrote a few months back.  Yes, there is an alchemy to it, and a kind of law which I’m still discovering and attempting to put into my book. For now, at least, I can tell you it begins with belief in Life and Love. One and the same, I've found — just a slightly different spelling. With these in the mix, rainbows appear. 

On that note, here’s a line from ‘Girl In The High Castle’, the last track on my album. I realised only yesterday, it’s my ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’ song:

One day soon I’ll pen a song

Make a mint, then buy a little house

A shepherd hut for two  
And we can laugh about how our dream came through.  
We won’t be living in a castle alone.

Try this today - take a walk in the sunshine and imagine you’re wading through a sea of colour. Because you are, daily - you just need some rainglasses to see it.

Love & technicolour raindrops to you,

Holly x

p.s If you enjoyed this read, please share it with someone and light up their day.