Those Scribbly Gum leaves find their way to the Dye pot....

If you mayhaps read my previous post, you will have seen wordology referring to the call of gathering Scribbly Gum leaves, for L plate experiments with 'eco dyeing' cotton fabrics? Well, those leaves soaked for nigh on two weeks, and were joined by a variety of others, as the local electricity company were rather kindly trimming around their precious wires! I was terribly chaotic, no species labeling, just memory of tree n leaf shapes and locations. Then this morning I felt the time had come, aka I was busting at the seams, to try and see how things unfolded. So I lay out the variety of leaves with a sigh...

This time I had added a 'premordant' to the preparation of the fabric. Bits n bobs of rusty joy brewed away in a jar of white vinegar, which I then diluted with ordinary ol tap water, and dipped said cotton in. Allowing it to dry, n cure a whiles. I had rather pale tea like, still lovely, nothing wrong with a cup o tea, type results last time around. I was hoping the mordanting, not sure if that word exists, could deepen my colours, and mayhaps result in a leaf imprint here or there.

So I laid my mix o leaves out like an abstract painting, n bundled, to maketh ready for the cauldron, with my Spirit kin Moraig dancing a wee jig o glee beside me. So excitingk, and a wee bit ad hoc. The soundtrack was 'The Isle of Roan Inish' mixed with several disco tunes. I feel this helped proceedings.

I wasn't looking at my pot with a lid whilst folding n rolling, hence I found they were too long! Bum! However, fear not my friends, the local tip shop had regaled me with a larger one, lidless but sized perfectly! I reread my references, and decided to cover the wee wool bound rolls o magik with water n boil em, rather than steaming. See how that goes...

I added some Lichen, carefully collected and Australia posted to me by my Mum, and some Cronewort from the garden, for her sheer presence n blessings, to the water. Turned up the unwooded hearthfire and off we go journeyers! What will happen in those potently intentioned waters that smell like walking in a forest???

Oh the joy!! They worked!! Leaf prints n all. My beloved who had been wondering quietly at the buckets of soaking leaves, oohed and aaahhed appreciatively. The shots are taken when freshly unbundled, so the colours lightened some as the fabrics dried but big learning curve from my first attempt. Stoked! The skirt I dyed,which doubles as a dress has barely left my body :)....

References:

'Eco Colour: botanical dyes for beautiful textiles' by India Flint, Murdoch Books, 2008.

'Gum Leaf Alchemy: Eco printing on Cotton' by Louise Upshall, Gumnut Magic.

Looking the Cailleach in the eye....

In the Southern Hemisphere we have just danced our way, or in some cases moved somewhat less gracefully, through Mabon, the Autumn equinox. When day and night stand on equal footing, as we shift towards the darker, colder, part of the year. However, the harvest is still present!

"Mugwort's renown among common folk as a powerful systemic healer reaching into the reproductive, digestive, urinary and digestive tracts has earned this artemisia the nickname cronewort. Like the old woman who has passed through many moons, harvesting wisdom into the folds of her wide skirt, this common weed, denounced and torn up recklessly by the ignorant, truley walks and lives amongst the people."

Our local Artemisia or 'Cronewort' is flowering and ready for tincturing for winter use....

"Intractable and sturdy as a hag, cronewort stretches its roots amid those urban places humans tend to scurry rather than wander in, their hurried pace forgetful of the very existance of the natural world. Affectionately known in Russian as zabytko, which means forgetful, croneworts strong camphorlike oils, when inhaled, open up ancient chambers in the brain, bringing to life ones dream life stirring visions of past and future that overflow with magical imagery. The symbols which dance through our cronewort-touched dreams pull out the cob-webs of our forgetfulness and assist us in remembering old, unwritten ways of healing and living that attend to the needs of spirit and soul."
Our Elder's have born fruit for the first time! Although not enough to make wine with or tincture, I am gratefully tasting good medicine straight from her branchs as I thankfully pour a little of my apple cider onto her roots in offering. Both these plants have associations with elder women, as does the season we are moving towards, as Judith Berger evokes....

"In Denmark, it was said that a dryad called Hylde-Moer, the elder tree mother, dwelled in the branches of the tree and watched over it. If any part of the tree was cut without first beseeching the elder-mother, it was believed that she would haunt the family of those who had bypassed her consent
until what was taken was returned."

"Elder is considered the tree of transformation, guardian of the thirteenth month of the Celtic tree calendar. This month, which is three days long, contains both the end of the year, Samhain (Halloween) and the beginning of the New Year (All Soul's Day). The elder tree is home to the crone who carries many names besides Hylde-Moer: Cailleich, Hel, Queen of the Underworld, and Freya, Norse keeper of the fire. This ancient goddess of many names who resides within the elder guards the doorway between the living and spirit realm of the ancestors."
                                                                                
In Gaelic folklore there is the Cailleach, a creatrix of lonesome and somewhat frightening proportions associated with the coming of winter, spirit thereof. Her face said to be blue, woad like mayhaps, and of a single eye, oft a sign of vision into the otherworlds (my interpretations). 

There is no 'epic' for the Cailleach, although a poem or two is thought to be of her, like one from the 9th century "The Lament of the Old Woman of Beare'. She is referred to under various related names, Cailleach Beare, Cailleach Bheur, Gentle Annie, when it comes to rocky landscape, isolated locales and in reference to harsh weather conditions. Late coming winter storms,  unnavigatable whirlpools and hard frosted ground are her terrain. Inferred reflections of her barren or otherwise hostile inner world, which I find rather interesting, as an aging woman.

Not in a distant oh how intellectually fascinating kind of way, but more of a growing down, sagging indeed, is real, and with the gaining of wisdoms that time passing brings, comes feelings that ain't always pretty. I have recently been rather shocked at having several respected elder women get cantankerous with me, and its made me pull up and have a bit of a think. Now they probably are not aware of this effect, working conciously as community nurturers, which indeed they are. Protectors of the ways. The plant Nettle comes to mind. I'm not saying this means their behaviour didn't hurt.

What I am saying, and pondering, is that perhaps I have romanticised the Crone as an archetype, into particular forms, and in doing this, not allowed my friends their vulnerabilities as real folks. What is folk lore, after all, but tales of people? Is the wise woman not allowed difficult or intense emotion (at any age)? Challenges she may respond to in ways we find confronting and suitably unbecoming? Am I not, looking the Cailleach in the eye in some ways? Another translation of her name is 'veiled one', holder of mysteries and what lies beyond.

In Ireland, Wales and parts of Scotland I've read of traditions around the last sheaf of wheat being referred to as the Granny, or even Cailleac. There are connotations that the last farmer to pull in his harvest will be left with the old hag, as a sign of his procrastination, laziness even. It's an honor to be avoided. However, also, there exist traditions where a part of this sheaf is fed to the horses who plough the first field of the next season. That therein, is contained the seeds that survive the winter and feed the spring sowing. Interesting. Not in a kind of abstract that's a quaint old folk tradition type way, but the reality that older women hold seeds.

" A modern version of the Stenia ( or Bitching Festival) is when we get together and discuss our negative emotions. We pay a lot of money for these moments in therapy groups. Somehow, negative emotions are not acceptable, and we pretend we don't have them. If we are lucky and have a best friend, we can always vent these negative feelings to them. But what a joy if we could safely (my emphasis) tell off face-to-face those people we are angry with!"
                                                                                                 Z Budapest
 
Now I'm going to digress into some of my own shamanic journey work with Cailleach, it's not from a book, a blog or resources, other than my own personal ones engaging with spirit.

I had been guided to visit her several times in the cottage where she lived, on the edges of village and forest. As I turned to her, before being seated, on one visit, she suddenly turned into the most frightening spectre, and loomed above me intimidatingly. I felt completely unsafe, I was terrified! However, I stood my ground, how, I am unsure. Somehow saying, 'I know you', recalling earlier, friendlier, incarnations. She shrank back down to familiarity, 'Goooood!' she said, laughing uproariously and slapping her knee.

I hope I can conjure up this same steadfastness with the Elder women in my life who have shown me a taste of the shadow realms, and that there may be healing beyond. My beloved Grandmother Alice, told me to f*** off once. So I listened, respected her wishes, and bloody did. On my return, carrying a softer memory of her, she offered me seeds I continue to carry.


References and Resources:

'Funk and Wagnalls Standard Dictionary of Folklore, Mythology and Legend'. Harper and Row. 1970.

'Grandmother Time: A Women's Book of Celebrations, Spells, and Sacred Objects for Every Month of the Year' by Zsuzsanna Budapest.  Harper Collins, New York. 1989.

'Herbal Rituals' by Judith Berger. St Martins Press, New York.1998.

'Kindling the Celtic Spirit: Ancient Traditions to Illumine your Life Throughout the Seasons' by Mara Freeman. Harper Collins, New York. 2000. see 'Meditation: The Hag's Chair' p222.

'Tairis' blog: An article on Brigid and the Cailleach
http://www.tairis.co.uk/an-tri-naomh/bride-and-the-cailleach/

'Two Old Women: An Alaskan Legend of Betrayal, Courage and Survival' by Velma Wallis. Harper Collins. 1993. Great read for any woman feeling cast out.

The Seeress....

The Seeress may appear blind to the physical realms, yet her vision both includes and moves beyond its borders. Cronewort, an Artemisia ally, assists her shifting. Here she is seen in her birthing space.

This enspirited doll has been part of an intensive process over the last two or so weeks, developing a body pattern and doll size for my new Etsy shop, Opalartifacts. She was followed by the first doll to be sturdy enough for listing, a wee Crone, also a walker between the worlds. A wise and merry guide for someone to find...

Opalartifacts shop https://www.etsy.com/shop/Opalartifacts

Some spirit practices in my Medicine pouch.......

In my previous post I alluded to the deepening of spiritual practices that has accompanied the recent reductions of a psych med. So, in this one I felt to go into that a bit, with the acknowledgement that the tapering and its accompanying restlessness can make it difficult to focus on some of these practices at times. I engage to the best of my abilities with what I got on any given day.

I don't work with a lot of complex rituals, however the medicine pouch of ones I do engage with are pretty important to me. I would like to acknowledge one of my mentors Odette (see Resources) who has supported me in finding my path with her earthy, safe and open minded ways.

My support crew in spirit are my Spirit Kin. A group of power animals who travel with me in all realms. Since a child I have held strong relationships with the animals, around me and this aspect of my spirituality is an extension of that. They offer comfort, guidance and have my back. One of them approached me as an ally in a nightmare, one amidst daily reality and one journeying in non-ordinary reality. Some have come for a time and teachings then moved on, but this core group remain. Connecting with them offers me deep nourishment.

On a day to day or weekly basis I've learned that I need some practices to be the equivalent of psychic showers, or the ocean dips I replace them with. This includes:

Cutting 'cords' ( a manifestation of the energetic 'ties that bind' but which absorb the crud from these links) from my body. Connected to people, the collective, and situations, the cutting of which doesn't mean a desire to sever or break off relationship (although it can where needed), but does allow for a kind of fresh start afterwards.

Clearing my aura of debris gathered in daily interactions (just as dust collects on furniture, or grease near the hearth fire), negative thought forms (the days stagnant, dead end or tape loop thought processes), and also entities or wayward souls. All of which, I find, can take on the form of archetypal beings. I find there's a strong 'trickster' like approach coming from them. They manifest in this type of form, or dialogue, with me repeatedly. It requires of me to maintain an alertness and sense of humor (I sometimes find in short supply), determination and firm boundaries, whilst assisting them to move on. When asked 'who are you really?' there's a tendency to shape shift, which lets me know, like the trickster in many cultures, whilst beguiling at times, these beings are not my friends. Teachers yes, friends no. 

I am a very visual person, so I use a lot of (and receive information from spirit through) imagery, accompanied by feelings. For example when 'cutting cords' I see my body hovering above a light filled Cauldron (despite the fact that I'm usually lying down) who's inclined to give me a thumbs up, as a rather enthusiastic Sword slices his way through the black sludge like cords, which drop into the Cauldron and are there transformed with accompanying boiling and bubbling.

When I 'Journey' or 'Hedge Ride' it's a very visual experience for me, accompanied by sounds and emotions. I see with my inner eye the landscapes and beings I meet, in the Otherworlds, and when I do so I know things are flowing. I create sacred space and ask my Spirit Kin to be with me. Then to begin a Journey, I play pretty repetitive music, to distract that ol left hand side of the brain, and that seems enough to get me going. I don't use hallucinogens, as I'm bent towards such tendencies already by nature, and knowing my sensitivities am likely to get freaky on them. With some plants, proximity is enough, for me. For example, we have Datura and Peyote growing in our garden but you wouldn't catch me imbibing either, oooohh nooo. I believe all plants are working with us spiritually and have teachings to share, so there's plenty for me to learn without blowing a fuse. I'm running low already! 

That being said, I do have an affinity with Artemisia's. I care for and perform prayers with a Sioux pipe which you 'smoke' without inhaling. The smoke serves to carry your prayers to the sky and Great Spirit. I work with dried Artemisia vulgaris for now. However, we also have growing in our garden an as yet unidentified Artemisia (other than as safe to consume) that I bought from a herb nursery as Artemisia argyi, which I am drying to smoke. This herb I also chew fresh leaves of, to connect more deeply with plants especially, and nature generally. She to me is 'Cronewort'. Holds that 'Elderwoman' wisdom and creates a green lense, or filter. A gateway plant. Gentle but not to be messed with, as any feisty ol woman.

                                             
                                                               young Cronewort...

Her counterpart for me is Grandfather Sage (Salvia apiana), another Elder herb, originating on Turtle island (USA), known for his use as smudge. This herb cleans, clearing away negative or stagnant energy when burnt, his smoke curling around to where it's needed. I call on Grandfather Sage's assistance, when making offerings to spirits / ancestors of a place, or creating sacred space. He brings tools and folk into these realms for ceremony.

I smudge our home. I also draw a boundary around The Nook that says 'safe space' or 'sanctuary' in energetic language, by setting wards. This involves reactivating a visualised stone circle that sits upon the borders of our property, with Reiki symbols (I know, a bit flakey you may say, but hey it works), and pentacles that run the width of our roof and front door.

These practices are part of my journey of Recovery. As my connection to them deepens, what may sound like a simple process, gains potency and becomes more vivid. Affirming connection to the world of Spirit, whilst having Nature as a constant companion to earth these experiences in body.
So, these are some of the ways I find myself calling upon at the moment, taking one or several at a time out of my Medicine pouch, to work with and enjoy. 

Resources:

'Animal-Speak: The Spiritual and Magical Powers of Creatures Great and Small.' by Ted Andrews. Llewelyn Publications. 1998.

'Animal Dreaming: the symbolic and spiritual language of the Australasian animals.' by Scott Alexander King. Blue Angel Gallery 2007.

Odette Nightsky and her lineage of Contemporary Shamanism:
https://www.contemporaryshaman.net/

I am enamoured of Cronewort 10/4/2016

I am enamoured of Cronewort, who you may also know as Mugwort. The fabulous herbalist Susun Weed tells the tale of 'Mugwort; speaking up 'ahem, I'm no mug!'. Artemisia vulgaris and also Artemisia argyi (Chinese) both are called by these names. Both have whiskers and silver hair. Artemisia vulgaris has a reddish stem and prefers cooler climates, whilst Artemisia argyi does just fine in the subtropics as one of my thickly populated garden beds now attests.

                                              Artemisia vulgaris, note the colouring in her stem.....

                                                    

                                                          
                                                                        Artemisia argyi...


 This plant opens a lense of green wisdom for me that can clarify and make sense of some pretty bemusing situations. She's like the shawled Wisewoman who pulls you in close and whispers, "Dearie you's needs be take some time to be quiet' or ' Sweet you's need some raucous belly laughter with your beloved' or 'Dear one go immerse yourself in the nearest body of water'.
I also understand her as a 'gateway' plant. One who can deepen our connections and relationship with other green folk by opening a lense or veil to the fascination there.
I tend to eat a leaf or two fresh from the garden when in need...

I find Chinese Cronewort just as magical as her sister plant, renouned for her support of lucid dreamstates, hedgeriding and trance journeying, perhaps a little more in the way of the Dao. She opens perception of that which is, containing beauty and wisdom. Hence her gift as a gateway plant. Be aware though, this Crone is not to be trifled with, eat a leaf before entering a shopping mall or busy town centre and you will find your senses assaulted and sanity thinning. She, like her sister, is natures familiar not a consumerist high. Mayhaps there is a difference in how these plants act in my system at least, only being able to speak from my own experience, but Chinese Cronewort is a fine journeying companion. This is how Ive come to know this plant.

I bought both as the same from a nursery and its simply through word of mouth from fellow plant lovers, indeed another lovely Artemisia ally, that Ive learned to tell them apart as two species. Mostly by how well argyi has grown here and the size she reaches, I must admit.