Friday, January 13, 2017

calm & bright


"This is the beginning" I said to myself on Winter Solstice. Even though the moon was waning and it was cold and dark outside, there was such a strong sense of beginning anew. So for me that was the beginning of the new year. Inside myself, it felt calm and bright.

Every few months over the last year I've been making oracle cards for myself. The last card of 2016 for Winter Solstice was "calm and bright." Each card was incubated -- it was dreamed up, thought/written about and meditated on. Finally a simple image was found and glued onto a card from an old unused deck with words that indicated the spirit of the card. I'm going to continue this project in 2017 and also create a simple guide for the card meanings before I forget what I was thinking at the time. 

A dresser in the sewing room is literally stuffed with cloth but the top is clean and spare which feels really nice. The January calendar moon cloth was made as part of a sewing ritual a few years ago and I found the honeycomb canisters and the arrow in Target's dollar spot. The mouth-blown glass ornament and the lovely beaded crane were Yule gifts. 

Yesterday on the full moon, the pink hyacinth opened up. I am reminded by Hyacinth to open my heart chakra to let the light in. I've been thinking about something I read recently, derived from Alice A. Bailey, about how the full moon itself has no influence on the flow of love and light but rather indicates a free and unimpeded alignment between Earth and the Sun. The Sun being our center, energy source, and center of life and intelligence is now approachable to connect with the energies of love and light...that humanity has always intuitively known to consciously cooperate with the flow of energies. 

Sunpower will be one of my cards in 2017. 

And happy weekending to you, thanks for coming by. xx

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

a friendly place


And just like that, a new year has dawned and the season of cold comfort is underway. 

 

Winter gardens are spread around the house wherever there's light, I'm just trying to keep everyone alive at this point. The orange tree in the kitchen is blooming its very last blossom now and when that's done, I'll give it a nice long shower in the bathroom and move it to another room for a while. All parties involved need to be rotated around, the ferns presently under lights in the basement each need a turn to hang by a window and the eucalyptus deserves a sunny place for a time -- and so on. I think the shortage of light this time of year makes me a more attentive plant person. That yellow chair in the background was $10 at a yard sale last summer. We'll probably spend hundreds having it reupholstered someday, I just really like it.


On New Year's Eve, I stitched the last of the blue moons onto the vintage doll quilt that my grandmother made. It came into my hands nine years ago. There were 16 squares that I filled with 16 moons. I hoped it was the right thing to do. 


A few days ago I remembered another quilt from my grandmother -- a baby quilt. The same pink fabric. And 16 squares. That I think I've had since I was a child. She must have made them around the same time. She must have had a little leftover fabric from making the baby quilt. They are cut from the same cloth. Like she and I.


My nightly ritual of going outside with the dogs before bed helps me attune to the phase of the moon, the clarity of the stars, the color of the night, the temperature of the air, which houses still have lights on, the sound of traffic on a busy street a few blocks away...and so much more. It has become an integral part of my day. It calms me and reminds me that the world is ultimately a friendly place. It makes for a good night. xx


Thursday, December 29, 2016

ablaze with holiness



Illuminating the darkness -- tables, hallways, entire rooms ablaze with holiness. 

Some dark moon work: I paged through my 2016 calendar planner and wrote down one thing I learned during each month. A lot has gone on so it wasn't easy to limit it to just one per month. 

My next list might be 100 wishes for the year 2017, I'm still thinking about it. It would have to be an offering of love to the world kind-of-thing and not just for me. Although I could probably use maybe ten of those wishes.

The festivities have been everything I'd imagined and more. Happiest of New Years to all. xo


Saturday, December 10, 2016

bottle brush tree crown


About two weeks ago, our orange tree had 88 flower buds -- many have bloomed but there's more coming. What a divine fragrance, we are beside ourselves with joy. The orange tree is on a caddy with wheels in our kitchen so I can roll it around depending on what's going on in there. During the day, it's under the skylight and when I use the oven, I push it toward the sink. When I need the sink, it goes over a ways. If we have people over, off to the laundry room. Really a member of the family. Sort of reminds me of an old Twilight Zone (or Outer Limits) episode where a vacuum came to life and rolled around a house.

The orange tree is the main news in this web log but a very small amount of decorating has happened as well. I seem to have dozens of bottle-brush trees so a crown just seemed like the right thing to do. The snowball lights also went up and the witch loves that. Her batteries are getting old so she's quieted down some.

We've just had a cold snap but the dogs' and my nightly vigils to both front and back yards continued. Between the half moon and the snow, it was very bright out. Daisy always lies down on the snow but Talula never does, must be something genetic.

That's a photo of our fireplace from the outside looking in. Good to change perspectives now and then, see things from another point of view.

This year's last full moon will soon occur -- Tuesday, the 13th. Most days I continue to light my moon candle and take quiet time. I might meditate, draw a tarot card or write down a dream. I feel that the world is changing and the one thing I know for sure I can do is to take care of myself.

xx

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

magick with a k

I loved every minute of November.


Under the November full moon, I set out a jar of water and an amethyst cluster to be charged and blessed by the moon.


Moon water is to be used in meditation, ritual or as a wash for sacred objects.


One perfect night in November, five projects were laid out on the sewing table. 


I don't know why I do this kind of stuff. I even blocked the leaf.


In November, Lucia and Aggie's quilt (my grandmother and her sister) grew 16 blue moons. The moons are various fabrics from silk to cotton chenille and everything in between.


A piece of a paper wasp nest alongside honeycomb -- so beautiful -- from our colony of honeybees and some wasps that adopted us again this past year. They love it here.


Altar-making for spell-work: a journal covered with paper from Flow magazine (I think), a new moon candle on my mom's old mirror (see camera in hand) and an intention collage.


Intentions are thoughts and words coalesced and are especially well-done at the time of the new moon -- as the moon grows into fullness, so too will our intentions. On yesterday's new moon I documented my focus a little differently. I began by writing intentions down on an old card and immediately covered everything over with a coat of gesso. Then associated images and more words were collaged around my photo glued in the center. The overflow went on the back. Since it was a recycled card, it stands on its own. Making this was magick with a k.


I wasn't intending to overwinter the patchouli plant this year again but something made me change my mind at the last minute. Being the plant had already lost most of its leaves from the cold, I wasn't expecting much. But look -- she's blooming...and new leaves are sprouting every few inches. So happy.


A skeleton key attached to ribbon, threads, yarn, lace and one big tassel a bookmark makes.


On Thanksgiving we always Yule-craft and visit while we make, we listen to Friendsgiving on Pandora, we cook and some watch football, and there might even be time for games between dinner and dessert. This year we backed metal cookie cutters with card stock and went to town, some creations will be ornaments and others magnets. The youngest maker was four-almost-five years old.


The dogs and I still go outside every night before bedtime. I have to wear shoes now. We make sure the trees haven't changed positions, the yard is free of all rabbits and the moon and the stars still shine. It is dark, cold and magickal with a k.

Be well, be happy. xo


Monday, November 14, 2016

the hermit month

I've discovered a few good things to do in November...beginning with not overdoing it in October. That is key.


Clear and sort -- you might come across at least one project that was left behind last November. With minimal effort, you too could have, say, a new bunting. Pattern here.


Light candles, create sacred space.


Finish the harvest. Long ago at this time of year, the practice was to leave whatever was still growing in the fields, for Nature to do with as she would. It is okay to not collect every single thing.
 

Fold, fill and label seed packets


Meet a tree spirit by looking closer at tree trunks and watch and listen for movement in the branches. It will happen. Touch trees and plants and tell them how much you love them and wish them well, the same as you would a loved one. Tender loving care is the core of energy healing.
 

Try to let go and fall like leaves do. I love November so much -- maybe because it's all about relinquishing control. And it's the hermit month of the year so we can do hermit things the whole month long.  

I'm interested in psychometry, the energy in objects. The first time I held the septarian heart at a gem and mineral show, I about fell to the floor. Of course I bought it. It's been on a windowsill for a few months and I am just now starting to work with it. Septarian is also called dragon stone, but I haven't found that much information on its energetic qualities and what I've seen online is contradictory so I guess I will have to form my own understanding. One side of the heart is patterned and polished smooth and the other side looks like plant material inside a pod or under a mushroom cap. Like it's alive. 


Look for true colors...see what the nettles have done in their cronehood. Aren't they gorgeous with their white leaves?


We're in the season of the dark, moving slower, pulling inward. The thought that invisible beginnings are forming now is comforting. x