Tag Archives: Christina Finlayson Taylor

July Releases: Middle Island Press and The Red Salon

This has been a busy past few months!

Under the Middle Island Press imprint, we’ve published our first novella: Petals and Nails by Loni Hoots, who also has four books of poetry and the first book of her Little Bird series of stories for children in print.

We’re days away from releasing Robert Epstein’s Haiku Days of Remembrance: In Honor of My Father (link forthcoming). He’s published several books through us – both his own poetry as well as anthologies which he compiled and edited.

From The Red Salon, we just released Spear of Stars by Jason O’Toole (this is his first collection of poetry, though he’s a seasoned songwriter); and most recently, The Colors of My Soul by myself, Christina Finlayson Taylor.

I do so love keeping busy designing books and am always glad to add new authors and titles to our ever-growing list. Click on the links above to purchase and brows the interiors at Amazon.

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Posted by on July 10, 2018 in News & Reviews


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Near-Life Experience (the Excluded Preface)

I was scrolling through a document of notes and found this Preface that I had written in advance and forgotten about. Instead, my little collection of poems has a practical Introduction; but I thought I’d share this Preface since it doesn’t appear in the book (yet it explained the title better than anything actually within the book, imo).


The more I read and understand, the more I realize that I am the awareness that fashions this body that types these words; I usher in from “the other side” as though I am “dead” and occupying a body through which to “do and shape” according to what my senses gather and what my mind or heart realize as a need for my presence in the moment.

I float through life. I feel, I see, I touch, and I wonder if everyone else feels this sense of being not a resident, per se, but a guest acquainted to the environment through learning and experience. Our senses ground us, but it’s always fleeting, which makes each moment truly precious: it’s here and then it’s gone, having given way to change of the ever-fluctuating Now.

I’ve often pondered the significance and the insignificance of my own words. I consider that “In the beginning was the Word” and, to me, that translates to sound, vibration, color, texture, shape. Why am I “here” right now? What gifts have I remembered through genetic memory that give value or direction to my being?

The awareness that I am is a spark of the divine passed through my ancestors. They live through me and give me an impulse to be a true and simple voice through which others can connect with the divine within themselves, because in that awareness is comfort and realization that we are never truly alone, whether this near-life experience is real, unreal, surreal, hyper-real. (“We’re all in this together,” or maybe All Is One and “we” forget.)

Words are multi-dimensional which makes them a tool of magic. On that note, I give birth to Near-Life Experience by invoking the magic of words in sentiment and sound. My will is to transfer the Love and the Beauty that I experience as I sit on this plateau with youth behind me and wisdom ahead and blowing in my direction – not to override the experiences of others, but to move spirit through the wind of words, to share moments in which I am reminded that All Is One so readers might remember the same through my words.

(Near-Life Experience by Christina Finlayson Taylor is available at Amazon.
Contact me at for a signed copy.)

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Posted by on March 30, 2018 in Musings & Other Things


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Near-Life Experience: Poems by Christina Finlayson Taylor

I’m glad to say that the latest book release through The Red Salon is my own! For years I didn’t write, and then, suddenly, the flow returned and has been turning on and off like a faucet: a few weeks of prolific writing and a few weeks of no writing at all. I’m glad to be writing again!

Near-Life Experience developed over the recent cold months. I planned on slowly working toward a collection about triple in bulk, but as I scanned what I had written of recent, I realized that there was a certain feel, and I decided to do a “gray” collection of my life this past autumn and winter and will plan to pen a “yellow” collection as the sun warms and colors the earth and my emotions.

This collection, compared to my first one, is considerably more “mature” as I’ve been experiencing critical inner development. It also contains more abstract concepts as we turn inward in the cold months. I hope that the few who appreciate my writing will enjoy this new collection. It may not be full of color and laughter, but it’s me.

(Near-Life Experience is available at Amazon, but of course friends can contact me for a signed copy.)

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Posted by on March 9, 2018 in News & Reviews


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Layers of winter:
Maple, flaunting her features,
Dressed for the season.

I had a remarkable experience of being one with the picture of winter rather than simply watching it through the panels of the back door, toasty-toed, from the wood stove. The latter cultivates gratitude for warmth, shelter, security; whereas going outdoors, if we fully open ourselves to the moment, winter can cleanse the soul just as it purifies the earth.

I was walking along the sidewalk the other morning and snow was newly falling, just beginning to powder the sidewalk and the hedgerow to my right. Thirty degrees; quite tolerable. I wasn’t wearing a hood and enjoyed the snow speckling my head, and a pleasant waft of chimney smoke from the house of neighbors a few doors down. I imagined the couple sitting at their wood stove with coffee in hand. I was glad for their comfort, yet I was glad to be outside in a quiet moment of gentle snowfall, and an incredible sense of peace washed over me, and in that moment I was immensely joy-full of the beauty of winter. The season that I’ve always retreated from spoke to me in a new way, and as spring seems to be arriving early this year and the happy birdsong is invigorating, something tells me that when leaves begin to fall this autumn, there will be no sense of dread for the coming cold. I’ve made peace with all seasons.

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Posted by on February 21, 2018 in Musings & Other Things


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Poem: Tapestry

Each life, a thread within a weave,
The grandest tapestry.
The weaver weaves the present-tense
With seeming spontaneity
When threads surrender to the hands,
The implements of mind,
The eye of God with vision clear;
The fates as puppets, blind,

But ah! The rebel now and then:
The path of the magician,
Resolved to wield a wayward will
And see it to fruition,
And even God with vision clear
Is thusly entertained
When perfect order intertwines
With chaos unrestrained.

A living, breathing tapestry—
With knots of soul-collision,
With known and hidden warp and woof
In patternless precision—
Extends in all directions far
Beyond all comprehension:
The playground of eternity,
A dream beyond dimension.

–Christina Finlayson Taylor
January 2018

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Posted by on January 24, 2018 in Musings & Other Things


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Poem: Illusion

The saddest thing: when those we care about
And wish to love and hold within our lives
Are happier without.

We look within the mirror, look for lies
That surface when the lens of mind is broken;
We look within the eyes

To contemplate the all that isn’t spoken,
And what can never fully be expressed
And seldom be awoken

Except to crush the surface into dust,
Send ego through the dread refiner’s fire
As die it simply must.

The unmoved mover never suffers ire;
The soul within maintains its non-direction,
The rod to never tire,

But pluck away the thoughts of imperfection,
Dissolve illusion, smash it with a clout,
Then find a true reflection.

–Christina Finlayson Taylor
Autumn 2017

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Posted by on November 17, 2017 in Musings & Other Things


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Poem: Soul to Hero

My book in the making, so far, is yet more introspective than Villanelles & Varia. I’m happy with the flow of poems and whisper “Thank You, my Muse” upon completion of each one. Gratitude is important. Here is one that I penned the other day for my husband:

Soul to Hero

I’ve no desire to return
When one last time I leave the flesh,
But you, with tested sword in hand,
You relish the adventure
Of all I wish to leave behind,
So ‘round you’ll go and fall again:
Another life, another skin,
In order to remember,

And once again I’ll watch and wait
And send you signs, as now and then
You’ll long for all that you’ll forget
And must recall again.
The Evening Star is ever there:
Your guiding light, her golden hair,
And memories outside of time
Will swell a song within.

You’ll linger long in twilight eyes
And feel a long forgotten dream,
And when you see her gazing deep,
You’ll then remember me,
And fall into the loveless Love,
And softly, then, I’ll pull you in
With gentle winds that call you home
When once again you leave.

–Christina Finlayson Taylor
Autumn, 2017

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Posted by on November 10, 2017 in Musings & Other Things


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