The Crone |
Not surprisingly perhaps - death, what happens afterwards, trees that look like brains and Goddess in her Crone aspect, not at all as grim as it sounds - I promise you! I thought I'd also share some art with you this week, this is an old oil crayon sketch I did earlier this year of Ceridwen the Crone weaving her magic huddled round her cauldron, in some other world under Glastonbury Tor, not a bear which it looks a bit like according to my son! When I did a meditation journey to meet Goddess as Crone a vision of Her flashed into my head immediately, it took a while for me to track the image down but eventually I realised it was a sketch my beautiful cousin Rachel had shown me of her A level art a couple of years ago, bless her, she has very kindly sent me a photo of the finished work...
By Kind Permission of Rachel Weeden |
It is is even more amazing than I remember, I know you will all agree, what a very talented young lady she is! In this sketch of a very old woman I can see so many emotions telling her story: humour, fear, hope, grief, love, warmth, pain, knowledge and joy. There is beauty in her wrinkled and lined skin and her work worn hands. I can still remember filing and painting my Nan's nails for her and being fascinated by the strength and the stories in those tiny wrinkled arthritic hands, whilst listening to tales of her parents, grandparents, her childhood and her life. I also remember getting told off for remarking that she looked like a nice old witch to my Mum! I meant it in
Tree Roots at Avebury Circle |
The phrase 'tree of life' kept floating through my mind and feels
Tree of Life Pendant |
As the land is dying down, for winter, like a little death in itself, which interestingly translates in French as La Petite Morte and can also mean an orgasm, a final ecstasy perhaps - all sorts of connotations of seeds being planted there, but sorry I digress! I've been musing how life and nature reflect each other; that both have life cycles that have been played out for time immeasurable and have found myself watching trees as they shed their leaves literally in front of me, some at the end of their lives, clinging on until the bitter end, brown, dry and wrinkled they float away from the branches, whilst others spiral and dance away
Mistletoe Balls |
It's possible that these ancient oaks at the base of the Tor
were once part of a druid grove, this one known as Magog is between 1000 and 1500 years old "She" named after a legendary giantess, is still alive unlike her brother Gog, strange I've just today remembered having a dream as a child, where there were tiny devils under the bed called Gog and
The Ancient Magog |
I'll do my best to stay away from trees for a while, but don't hold your breath!
Have A Blessed Week x x x
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