Showing posts with label Imelda FB Maguire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Imelda FB Maguire. Show all posts

Friday, January 4, 2013

A Moment ~*Within*~ Introduction to Imelda Frances Burnadette Maguire

~*Celebrate Life and Love*~

The Loft

~ Timeless Expression Studio ~

October 2007 ~ March 2016 

Historical Alger Press

Durham Region Ontario

Photo bStephen Cormack

From time to time I gaze out the window dreaming of days that are gone forever and of those yet to come.

I wonder

Is it in the reflections of the past that are met with the wanderings of the soul in a given moment of time where our dream truly begins?

Might it be a discovery of who we were then long long ago where we are only now bearing the fruit of what was or is to be?

I wonder, and dream about never ending Love within every waking moment of the day.

I wonder 
 and then I dream  do you?

~  North Wood ~

Quote from Saint Germaine

Choose intend, it will be done

Repeat that with us

Choose intend, it will be done

Remember that

A clear choice, clear intention

It is impossible to stop it manifesting


It will only stop when you change your intent or you choose otherwise


If your intentions and choices do not manifest
It is because you have changed your mind

You have changed your intent.

No way around this!

We are all the lover and  the dreamer!

~ Imelda Frances Burnadette Maguire ~

Toronto Pictures

Photo by Bruno Pischiutta


One day, everyone will discover 

The magnificence you are ~ I am

Found in the True Authentic Self of precious Unconditional Love

I Dream...

One day, everyone will discover 

The radiant being you are ~ I am…

Found in the true Authentic Self of precious Unconditional Love

I Dream...

One day, the entire universe will discover

The pure sweet Love found in the True Authentic Self.

I Dream...

That the Divine Glow in you and me

Will one day flow sweet and free through the heart

Authentically from one to another 

Through Eternity

When the higher emotions are conscious, there is real peace, love, and joy found within us all always, and in abundance.

Let us all walk toward our beautiful morrows together!



In Search of Self

Enter The Millennium

The following notes were written by Imelda during time spent on the Psychiatric ward of the Oshawa General Hospital shortly after the grand event of time; New Year Eve of the Millennium.   


Bipolar with a psychotic twist;  Disassociation

~ Shattered Dreams ~

Imelda FB Maguire
  Self Portrait

Oil on canvas 40 x 60 1992

Private Collection of  Canadian Mental Health Center
  Minden Ontario 

The Notes:

I am on my tenth different psychotropic cocktail to stabilize mood swings. 
The drug of the day is Lithium.  

Numb am I,  lost in a dark place with nothing to recognize as self to grab on to and hold tight, so as not to sink further into this dark abyss of lifelessness.  

The question asked of the patients attending the workshop today is;

Who have we become and why?

Sitting here in the hospital recovery workshop not caring at all whether I live or die, I pray without end to the Heavenly Father for the sensitivity to hear the promptings of my soul;

Who am I?

Why would I even care, knowing full well that the right answer will be the only way out of this dark and empty place of hollow living?

There is pen and paper in hand, so I might just as well begin this writing exercise.


Drawing by Imelda FB Maguire

Recovery Workshop
 Oshawa General Hospital 
3G Wing
 February 2000  

I know there is a pattern of some electrical nature, so I search somewhere for a missing sequence, keep it simple stupid.  There is only black inside, so I resist and go the other way.

A speck of color draws me in so I follow and chase the hue, only to arrive back to where the pigment began to the place where only darkness lives.

Oh Heavenly Father

Let there be light

The medication makes it so hard to think, so hard to do anything at all let alone think or feel or see the light of joy that once was and is now lost when all I really want to do is to be left alone to sleep that forever deep sleep.

Now… yes, I think I have lost the land of Now!

A wee flurry flickers inside somewhere behind my breast but it is not mine.   I raise my hand to see who is there.  A gentle little whisper of a thing touches my cheek.  I accept this gift, the tears fall. 

Only a mad stroke appears when I put pencil to paper…  I let it go, perhaps we can talk again another day.

The mouth is so dry.

Colors most pale with shapes are there today.  I wait for something to stay… for at least a short while yet still the pigment and shapes flutter pale.

Wait! something looks for me ~ what is one to expect from the self?  ~ Soul hides.  

O'h my, how the brain hurts as I search ~ keep it simple stupid!

Nowhere is there a brush stroke ~ nowhere is there a color or a hue.

Life is at the best ~ flat
Nothing seems to matter much at all anymore.  There is no interest in even the searching.

So then, it has come to that!

There is no point in describing this painless pain.
I pray and I pray.

Please God take me home.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star

How I wonder who you are

The blank clean page speaks to this unrivaled mystery.  Here in this blank and clean place, I can stay in between ~ in the land of Now ~ safe ~ from a world so full of fractured shattered dreams.

There must be more space for these broken pieces to find their rightful place within ~ the mind can no longer breathe.

Displacement of self has arrived!
Here, in the land of now, there is all this time to listen to the whispers of my heart, I miss the authentic self that it seems I never really knew.

I must let the past go...
Oh… to be independent when there is not a thing that is truly your own, surely this must be the Lord’s test!
Remember I must ~ be grateful for all heart's desire, a lesson learned.
This must be the hold to keep the soul alive, that I might feel the map to my own truth within as my friend ~ lest I become lost ~ forever ~ to the wild rushing noise on the outside.

What planet am I on?

Fragments of this and that have disassociated themselves from one another.  They seem to be running rampant like a wild child without a destination and have gone pale beyond the boundaries of the whole.  I wish I understood how the boundaries got there in the first place.

Life is easier, safer, and more loving without these internal boundaries that appear so very strange and dark to my heart. Why won't these things talk ~ with all my might I wish they would, just so one might know where to begin again.

I am afraid ~
It must be for the self to stay inside where it is safe to accumulate again these missing pieces.  If one cannot, at best then, I can enjoy the numbness and this rest.

But... for how long will I be left here in this darkness without end?

The past is gone now,  never to come back, I know this to be true.
The future will always be unknown, I do not have a crystal ball ~ so the only thing left is ~ here ~ within this incredible empty Now that appears so full.

When I do look back it seems it was always about the work of exploring more how life is lush and ripe like fruit, sweet and ready to eat on the vine.  How could one survive such an Eden just to arrive at this pointless end?  

Bliss is lost ~ 

Yes, lost am I ~ tumbled upon the ground, then get lost again ~ tumbling over and over and over. It takes all effort to make it through this damn day program without a voice. When I do hear it, the voice is not mine, someone else has taken my place and they are nervous like a fearful child, removed am I from this place on earth where another acts the part of my own composition in life.

I know there was Bliss ~ I know it ~ so I search and feel for the Bliss that waits silently in great anticipation for the real self to return.

And now herein lies the secret;

It is only with the heart

That one can see rightly what is essential

What is invisible to the eye

And so float eye

This lotus on a pond

To where I do not know

Life is but a tiny ripple

That a gentle breeze does blow

Upon the waters top

 It is not where this breeze may wake

But only our self out of life what we make

Oh… but to float with He

Upon the watered tide

Inside the land of now

Where everything hides 

From those empty things on the outside

It is only within the Divine of the moment

That there is Life in the land of now

And so float eye 

This lotus on a pond

To where I do not know

~ Flowering Almond~ 

The Sharing of Hidden Truth

November 15 2009

True love began to heal itself with the writing of the soul thoughts during the Millennium time spent in the healing workshop on 3G main with a healing that continues through to this day.

Indeed it took the complete collapse and folding of the self upon itself to come through the other side of darkness only to fall in love with that fearful dark in order to realize the brilliance of Light through the creative being of the very soul that had never left. 

Our most precious and perceived commodity of time controls that function of relationship building with our self and has now become solely governed by the value of a dollar.  The external quest to gain equity by owning more material things is the very thing that will drive one to madness as we strive endlessly to find more time to do just that, own more of everything.

Self-awareness expressed and experienced through art is the personal truth set in opposition to the non-truths that continue to rise up in ebb and flow through our daily life.

The function of art to me is to bridge the distance between the most intense state of feeling and our impersonal human existences that we know them to have been while living here on this earthly soul plane.  The artwork is a personal attempt to express outwardly the relationship we have of our self within modern society through this lifetime, then to do so with a grand Grace.

My travels in creativity have led me increasingly toward a conscious awareness as a means to search out and hold one's own truth as the gift to saving our sanity in a world conflict, confusion, fear hunger and war.

The work for me is an attempt to provoke the viewer into silent contemplation of whom and what we really are.  It poses questions directed inward, questions that are the most unavoidable in the search for self-recognition and acceptance, self-respect and intelligent self-consciousness.

Technically through the freedom of artistic expression, the intention is to bring the viewer into the world of the soul by concentrating on simplicity of shape, movement and rhythm through ethereal qualities accomplished by the use of light passing through vapors of pigment.

The work is mostly sensual rather than intellectual.  It is my personal attempt to thrive in the expression of spirituality.  It is here that there is the awareness of our individual completely true nature, the totally abstracted elements of undefined mind ~ Reality ~ outside of our own beingness. 

For most, this attempt would be a deeply personal journey that celebrates the wholeness of the heart and soul as we live and survive on flourishing earth.

There is always an element of fear or apprehensive to start something new that we want to make very good, true, and serious.  The search for knowing more, is a sacred adventure.  

Russian Writer Vladimir Nabokov tells us:

“There is a miraculous feeling of the words being there written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible.”

True adventure starts with desire, inclining one to enter the unknown internal world of the heart in all its many wondrous facets that will indeed leave us breathless and in delight of our true self.

Be awake to your life


Rise to inspire others 

To be the best that they can be

~ Flowering Almond ~



Tuesday, December 11, 2012

SCULPTURE ~ Retrospective



Work in Progress
Imelda FB Maguire

~ Pain ~

Be Not In Doubt

“Be not in doubt the power of love.

Do not pulse fear… only love.

Participate, or do not complain.

Look not at the unknown, Look not into the past.

Be here!

If you choose to look forward, project only light and love.

When you wake up, do not judge yourself.

St. Germaine.

~ Imelda Frances Burnadette Maguire ~


On the Eve. of the Millennium 2000 my 50th birthday, I found myself in recovery on the psychiatric ward at the Oshawa General Hospital. 

The Ten Illusions came to me in a gift package of inspiring uplifting notes and quotes to read and ponder upon ~ a gift from my daughter.  

Profound is this gift of wisdom delivered with true love ~

The Ten Illusions

Need Exists

Failure Exists

Disunity Exists

Insufficiency Exists

Requirement Exists

Judgment Exists

Condemnation Exists

Conditionality Exists

Superiority Exists

Ignorance Exists

Why do these things exist?

What might life be like if they indeed did not exist?

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Gay Paris' 1980 -1993

Gay Paris’

1980 -1990

Imelda Maguire, Northants England, on the way to Gay Paris, photo by Richard Briggs 1980.

Gay Paris’

Sunflowers (Still Life: Vase with Fifteen Sunflowers) 92.1 x 73cm - 36 x 28, oil on canvas,  
Vincent van Gogh Famous Dutch artist - Post Impressionist painter,1888

It was a glorious spring morning of early April 1984 In Metro Paris.

Since I was just a young girl, it had been a dream of mine to visit the Paris Louvre to see the famous Van Gogh SUNFLOWER which was the beautiful image of a puzzle my father had given me for my tenth birthday.  I love the Van Gogh Sunflower so free and full of life.

While I was there in Paris I set out to research the French Impression.  It was my thought that it was a painting until I found Montmartre Square; where right before my very eyes I finally understood what everyone I knew working in the creative field was buzzing about.  It was never just one painting, as I so naively thought, (not having any knowledge of any art history) it was an entire art movement. 

The day was wonderfully fresh, full of the hope and renewal of spring.  It had rained heavily the whole day before, well into the night.  

The hotel desk clerk drew out a map that would walk me through the streets of Paris along side of the River Seine, to a landmark bridge where I was to cross the river to the entrance of the historic Louvre Art Gallery.

How wonderfully exciting it was to experience all the enthusiastic shopkeepers that hustled about at the break of day to hose down their walks in preparation to receive the first customers for the day as they opened wide the shop doors in the hope of many new sales.

Canopies of many bright brilliant colors and shapes rolled out over the shop entrances showing off all the new and exciting gift ideas and latest products that beckoned to the passerby, enticing all with fine food and pastries baked fresh for the daily menu fare filling the air with a grand scent of celebration.

Designer clothes, exquisite lingerie, the latest styles of real leather shoes with matching handbags, beautiful one of a kind jewelry and perfume dressed the shop windows and sidewalks, leaving the senses rich with temptation that lured the shoppers on into the stores to spend their hard-earned francs.  A stunning feast it was for any sore eye!

Imelda Maguire requesting a passerby to take a photo in front of Exposition Square, Paris 1980.

The River Seine Paris, photo by Imelda Maguire, 1980


To my delight, the bridge to the Louvre was right where the desk clerk’s map said it would be... and so I crossed. 

There it was, as big as life itself right before my very eyes The Gallery Louvre.  My heart was pounding with anticipation, knowing in only a very few minutes the feast of that beautiful Van Gogh Sunflower would be before me in all it’s glory as well as the infamous French Impression painting that I waited so long to view.  

I had been using the palette knife for some time in search for the perfect way to express the wet of healing nature on the earth’s beautiful flowers and trees, n

ow even the wet rain on the streets of Gay Paris I would learn how to make visible to the eye on the finished canvas. 

 River Seineoriginal oil on canvas, palette knife, 32 x 48, 1980.

Collector not recorded

As I reached the top step at the entrance of the magnificent Louvreit was only to discover that a sign on the Gallery door read;

Closed to the public on Tuesday

  Well wouldn't you just know it,  right there  I was on the step of the Louvre and it was a Tuesday.

  Having to leave the next morning for a return flight to England truly changed everything that I had dreamed about. 

River Seine Paris 1980

Imelda Maguire taking a moment to contemplate alongside the River Seine Paris 1980

Instinct was to rise above this sense of disappointment.

Heck, I was right here standing in front of the most exquisite Art Gallery in the world!  That in itself was so very satisfying.  Besides, it was a grand day for a walk through the beautiful Gardens of the Louvre, then to the Eiffel Tower and of course, unbeknownst to myself beyond that wondrous landmark was indeed Montmartre Square.

It was my thought that it just might take a whole of the day to peruse through the Gallery Louvre that perhaps, I might not even make it to this landmark of Montmartre, which the hotel clerk surely wanted me to experience.  There was no doubt in my mind or heart on that spring day that Destiny was surely in the air.

So then... why, on earth not take this sauntering journey along the lush garden pathway that beckoned my name? 

How so like life flows the curious of heart!

Man and squirrel on the way to the Eiffel Tower Paris, 1980.

So I took time out to bask in the haunting melodies of an accordion player echoing from somewhere in the distance.

Lost I became in observation of a man sitting on a bench feeding the squirrels and pigeons. With feet bare, burrowed onto the fresh scent of grass with face to the sun it was all one could do to just simply surrender into the joy of the moment filling the soul with the sweet scent and sounds of a bright spring day in Gay Pairs.

Man feeding Pigeons with young girl monument to the left, Paris,  1980.

‘Young Girl Monument sketch’, artist sketchbook, taken from photo of Man feeding Pigeons Paris 1980.

Gardens of the Eiffel Tower, Paris, 1980

Eiffel Tower, Paris, 1984, photo by Maguire

‘The Eiffel Tower’16 x 34 palette knife, oil on canvas, 1984.

Collector not recorded

Steps to Monmartre Sq., Paris, 1980, photo by Maguire 

Just for a wee bit of romantic history;

The desk clerk at the hotel explained that Napoleon Bonaparte had shipped rose quartz from Egypt to build the New Paris in a rose glow over the entire city for his beloved Josephine.

As I walked through this wondrous history of love, I could not help but think the rose quartz was indeed a brilliant success, not to mention what a wondrous romantic declaration of a love for a woman was this gift to receive from her lover.

Steps to Montmartre’24 x 42, original oil on Masonite, 1980.

The unmistakable aphrodisiac, the scent of turpentine began to waft down the historical Montmartre stairway.  As I look back now, I realize how green and sheltered my life had been before this journey to my Gay Paris'. Little did I know what magic was about to unfold before me. 

One of the many artists, setting up display for a memorial day at ‘Montmartre Square’ Paris, photo by Maguire 1980

Stretching out over both sides of the huge city square, were artists with easels, with their stocks of brushes, knives and canvas next to their magnificent paintings for sale everywhere.  What a vision for the eyes to behold as well as the eager heart and soul to feast upon all the many grand expressions of other artists that were sharing the way they feel the world!

More surprising than the artists at work, was the deafening silence and comforting peace that had manifested itself in a quiet hush over the many viewers that so complimented the intense focus of the artists at their work.  I could not help but think, what a grand demonstration of respect this was for those in mindfulness and concentration. That in itself, could hardly go unnoticed.

There I stood for quite some time breathing in this timeless moment deep into my soul, filling forever the heart with the memory of this great scene before me filling all of my senses so full.

Passerby’s stood in awe at the brilliant work that was happening like magic before them, as well did I.

The entire atmosphere was nothing short of spellbinding.

Artist pallets were full of raw pigment as they worked their canvas two and three at a time while loading their thoughts with great concentration intent on sharing their personal expression with another.

The seekers were there to be present bearing witness to this amazing creative moment amongst the artists in search of the timeless cusp.

Spellbound we all were!

Artist on location, performing charcoal portrait drawing of Imelda Maguire, Montmartre Paris, photo by Maguire 1980.

Charcoal sketch of Imelda Maguire at Montmartre Square 1980 

Artist at work on Montmartre Square Paris, photo by Maguire, 1980.

I came upon this gentleman painting a portrait of a man with such great passion coming to life on his canvas.  

Quietly I sat down on some nearby section of grass to watch the artist adding his highlights and finishing touches to the masterpiece, or so I thought.  

Feeling a little hungry, I noticed a little shop just beyond with some old cheese, fine wines and fresh French stick.  I decided to seize the moment.

My jacket was spread out on the grass, with my humble bread, cheese, and wine.  With a waving gesture of my arm I invited the artist to join me hoping that I was not being too much of a bother.  He eagerly accepted excited to explain with broken English ( I could not speak a word of French )  that he was waiting for the subject on his canvas to come out of his retreat and into the square in order to catch the finishing highlights to his work on the easel. 

He continued his story sharing that the man on the canvas was a bit of a lunatic as well as a fellow artist that comes out every once and while from his safe abode, with his long black coat flying in the wind as he swirls around and around swearing “Fook the peeshons.”

Pondering for a little while to grasp what my new friend was trying to explain,  out of nowhere came this man on the canvas right out into the square, with his long black gabardine with grey fur collar blowing wildly about, yelling in his very rich and passionate expression as he gestured to the pigeons in his husky way,  “Fook the peeshons!”.  

The bell went off…I got it! crystal clear the story had become.

Who said I couldn't speak French?

Seems to me that if a story is told with great passion, one can speak any language and be understood.

My friend would wait for hours for this madman who was also an artist, to come out of his private world to rant and rave to all of his madness.  Friend finished the portrait of Fook that day while I witnessed in wonder at his brilliant accomplishment of catching the magic of a timeless moment.  

We had a really good laugh about the whole synchronicity of our Fook event, as we drank wine together washing down our cheese and bread.   I took this snap shot of my artist friend whose image is welded to my memory forever.

Hotel room with the empty bottle of wine souvenir of a day in Montmartre with ‘Fook,’ Paris, photo by Maguire 1980.

As a study in life drawing, I came home to attempt to capture the moment of ART on ART on canvas.

The experience in its entirety marked my journey to the Louvre.  I cannot help but reflect on what joy I would have missed should I not have gone for a sauntering walk that glorious day through the timeless Paris city and monuments of Gay Paris to discover the amazing Montmartre Square.  The Louvre was most assuredly happening right there before my very eyes. 

 Celebrate Life and Love

Art on Art on Art, 38 x 46 oil on Masonite, 1984.

 Timeless Expressions by Maguire 

Art on Art on Art, close up of the brushes, 38 x 46 oil on canvas, 1984.

Gift of Great Gratitude to
Gary Smith

 Builder, Designer, Contractor and Good Friend
to Timeless Expression

Minden Ontario

~ Shandy-Lynn Andrea  ~ 

Montmartre ~ Gay Paris ~ 2002

Bonnie Brae'

There is an old house on the top of Bonnie Brae' point in Oshawa overlooking Lake Ontario.  My children and I would hike there from our home, to climb the hill cliff to the top and lay in the long green grass dreaming the day away, then sharing those dreams with one another.

I would like to take this opportunity to share that magical time spent on Bonnie Brae with the children to encourage others to aspire and surrender into their dreamy moments where time is no more, where one can just lazily be, feeling safe and loved without a care in the world.

A Sunny Day on Bonnie Brae'


I lay upon soft whispering grass a`top the Cliff of Bonnie Brae`

A'gaze I am
 upon the fluffy white cloud drifting so peacefully away

O'h but for the lapping wavy sound
Somewhere else lost in mind I'd be

Spread wide am I, as wide as I can be

Amongst the rustling grassy waves
A`top of Bonnie Brae'

Ventured a look I did into the blazing sun

Thinking a lot about shapes, shapes that grow and blow and come

A buzzing bee sips sweet pollen from things blowing right next to me

Right from the centre of all the yellow flowers
Blowing, blowing, blowing

Buzzing and blowing, and flowing

O'h how sweet the buzzing and blowing be

Drowning in the sea of knowing

A'h but what will be, will be

Lost am I,
In the sounds of the buzzing and blowing

Blowing, flowing knowing in this sea that is me

Lost among the loving memories of Bonnie Brae' just you and me

Yes, oh yes, how sweet this buzzing be!



Red Sunflower

November 23, 2011

~ Red Sunflower ~

Celebrating the life of  the Hungry Child

A Life without hope is more painful than a body full of broken bones

60 x 60 oil on canvas

Private Collection of Shandy ~ Lynn Andrea Briggs 

Oshawa Ontario

Presented to Shandy-Lynn Andrea Briggs
 Ambassador for Timeless Expression 

Marking with great joy Shandy's 40th Birthday 2011