I felt lost, helpless, alone.  I did not know what i needed.   And i turned the corner into a familiar bland space to discover a world of Radical Hope

On a heavy donkey day, A unicorn visited me, literally on the supermarket doorstep.

This wasn’t ordinary manifesting—it was wild, messy synchronicity. The stunning, sacred kind that emerges when you stop trying to fix yourself by keeping busy, and simply feel.

 I’ve been busy the last few months with a local community independent campaign group. Intentionally not all in, i have maintained my own routine, In the hope that in the end, i could continue with regular programming, no matter the outcome.

And turns out there was still a gap left by the ending this week. The beautiful sunny long weekend afternoon felt dull and empty

I resorted to a habitual, reflective walk to the shops.   Thinking weet-bix and vegetables for a future roast.  Not in a hurry.   Filling time while recovering from not sure what.

Walking down familiar streets, I recognised an unusual feeling of flatness, almost despair.   Nothing else on the horizon.  Nothing on the horizon.  Same old now, for as far as I can see.   Urgh.  That’s grim.

And, as is now my practice, I allowed this feeling in, as much as I was able.   Curious.  Brave.   Tender.  Emotional.   Strong sense of “I don’t know what I need here.   I’ve got nothing for this.”  Vulnerabilty.  More emotional.  Keep walking.

The Big Top shopping centre is an uninspiring, characterless space, an awkward collection of no name suppliers and empty shopfronts filling the echoing space between Woolies (my usual objective) and a garish gaming arcade. 

 Collapsed into my own emptiness, it was not until I was right under the eaves I noticed newly applied “Horizon” bollards.

I looked up, around.   A recently blank shopfront radiates a warm pink glow – and a huge pile of clothes?  “This is not an Op Shop” and “Confashional” signs by the door.  Intrigued, i peek inside, and am waved forward warmly.  “Come in sit down my child.   You’re just in time.  We’re about to begin.”  

Sheepishly, I take a seat as directed on a clothes covered pew.  Part confessional, part absurdist performance, we are regaled with an anti fast fashion sermon with a chorus of “activewear” by a sister in a white patchwork gown and a satin petaled bonnet.  Big pink f – for fashion sister (fashionista?  zappatista?   revolutionary?)

Following the sermon, another f-sister is hearing fashion victim confessions in a pink curtained cubicle.

Feeling vulnerable, but personally invited, i stumble in and take my place on the deep rose georgette draped confessional chair.  A delicate rice paper screen obscures the sister’s face, but her voice is warm.   Do i have anything to confess?

Oh my goodness, fashion victim, fashion crimes … where to begin?  We’re all guilty of those!!!  I am painfully aware of the bags of clothes on my bedroom floor looking for a home.   I confess to that.

And am warmly, kindly absolved of my overindulgence – with two satisfying pink stamps on a pledge card.  Thump thump.  Also – there’s a whole set of cards to collect, so come back any time.  Now i’m hooked!  

I genuinely feel lighter.    I had not imagined i would find magic in the void between the street and the grocery aisles.

When the other punters wander out, I share with the charming sisters a teary eyed story of feeling weighed down by the world and not knowing what I needed.  They drop out of character for a moment to agree that things are pretty shit and embrace me in a group hug.   

But the magic is that I am not sad now, this whole absurd experience has refreshed and energised me.   I am more than delighted.   The slump has become a joyous, abundant bounce beyond my imagination.

I felt lost, helpless, alone.  I did not know what i needed.   And i turned the corner into a familiar bland space to discover a world of Radical Hope in the form of local art, love, kindness, creativity.

It was overwhelming. In the best way.

Something shifted.

It wasn’t just the pink glow.

It was that someone believed it belonged there.

That beauty and absurdity had a place.

That hope didn’t need to make sense to be real.

Even, and especially in places that feel like monuments to quiet despair.

I suddenly understood that this is the purpose of art. 

To feed the bone deep hunger for the radically beautiful, truly strange and deeply committed when we need it most.

When I feel empty, void, I can be nourished, inspired by the wild creativity of others.

The creativity, the art of others can interrupt the mundane and offer a new trajectory. 

It doesn’t solve anything, really.   And it cracks open the grey enough, through absolution – to let the light in, mostly because I’m no longer carrying my problems alone.

And the gift of this meeting the unicorn moment is everything, reframed (in glowing pink neon hope)

Horizon Arts Festival, featuring the glorious Confashional by ShayeKet Productions is live at the Big Top Shopping Centre this week, 2-11 May 2025.

One step towards the universe

When Others Are Making, You Remember You Can Too

Sometimes, when the well feels dry and the world feels grey, the best thing you can do is step into the atmosphere of someone else’s creative glow. You don’t have to make anything. Just show up, sit quietly nearby, and let the buzz of their weird, wild, wonderful making remind your body what’s possible.

In One Step Towards the Universe, we meet in a gentle, no-pressure online space where everyone’s doing their own thing—but together. Like being in a room filled with pink-glow absurdist sermons, half-finished projects, hesitant starts, and bold splashes of creativity.

You don’t need a plan. You just need a moment of Radical Hope. A reminder that art and aliveness still exist. And that maybe—just maybe—you’re allowed to glow too.

Shall we begin?

[✨ Yes! I feel this.✨]

Spark up*

When a woman dreams A story of ups and downs and possibility when we travel together. ✨ Free PDF download.

What if you’re already enough?:   Every moment is full of possibility to create anew.  Liz Page shares her experience of finding enoughness.  Real women’s stories of transformation podcast

Recalibrate for joy :  The shift is as close as taking a moment to tune into which direction feels most inviting to move towards.   Free audio guide. 

If you’re anything like me, you’ve maybe spent much of your adult life swimming against the tide—choosing care over career, substance over status, purpose over pay.

There have been moments of real magic. But just as many when it all felt like a terrible mistake. A noble, bone-deep kind of mistake no spreadsheet will ever validate.

But I’m no longer willing to buy into the lie that caring work is worth less just because it doesn’t show up in quarterly profits.

The fury is still there—but now, I’m learning to harness it. To use it as fuel.
To name the value of this kind of work—for myself, and for the world I want to live in.

It’s a long road. There are no shortcuts.

But sometimes, there are wormholes.

And unicorns.

Will you join me?