|Posted by Noreen Kruzich on March 22, 2019 at 12:00 AM||comments (0)|
|Posted by Noreen Kruzich on January 21, 2018 at 3:50 PM||comments (1)|
|Posted by Noreen Kruzich on February 11, 2015 at 10:35 PM||comments (1)|
Storytelling is ages old...what person doesn't enjoy a good story filled with memorable characters, enhanced with sensory images and told with an engaging voice. A solid story holds just as well on the lips as it does on the paper and sometimes more so. Stories fill out life.
I especially love legends....how something came to be or how things work in relationship to its environment...how we can learn from nature. Do you know any good legends, especially about wate...Read Full Post »
|Posted by Noreen Kruzich on May 10, 2013 at 9:45 PM||comments (1)|
Dreams can be very powerful as they sometimes can be messages from the Ancestors. I don't have powerful dreams often but when I do, I know it as they look, act and feel strong and carry a strong message usually through symbolism... symbolism in the words that are spoken or the way things are portrayed--played out. The dream as a whole is usually very vivid.
My grandfather came to me one night, and I told him I miss my father very much and he told me "the birds are carrying l...Read Full Post »
|Posted by Noreen Kruzich on January 27, 2012 at 3:05 PM||comments (2)|
A dream I had as I lay close to the earth in a tent along the shores of Lake Superior one summer’s night.
There I stood on the land. People all around me. An urgency in each one of them . A realm of chaos.
I instinctively knew that I stood at a site of significant historical importance—a battlefield of sorts. Assignments were being handed out. Living as a writer and reporter much of my life, I understood that this was the agenda here too. The assignment editor pointed...Read Full Post »
|Posted by Noreen Kruzich on January 5, 2011 at 9:45 PM||comments (2)|
When I was about twelve years old, I awoke one morning to find a middle aged man, at the side of my bed, dressed in deerskin and feathered headdress, holding a staff in his left hand. I immediately knew he was a ghost. He eyes stared at mine, but he did not speak, nor did he move. I watched him and he watched me, and then I lost my eyesight for a few minutes until it came back.
That visit has haunted me my entire life. I often wondered why he ...Read Full Post »
|Posted by Noreen Kruzich on November 30, 2010 at 11:19 AM||comments (4)|
In 2004, as a freelance writer for magazines I came across a story about a Indian legend of a rock nearby where I lived in Burnstown, Ontario along the Madawaska River. I had heard that some people believed a standing stone was shaped from an Indian maiden as she died wrought with a broken heart. She was an Algonkin Chief's daughter who had fallen in love with an Iroquois man, and the Chief would not hear of it. Legend has it, her father cast her out of tribe and into the wilderness on her ow...Read Full Post »