A Magical Day

Last Friday began with a telephone order of lemon eucalyptus and neem oils and a white sage smudge stick from one of the oldest herbalists in London, a Harry Potteresque, dark wooded shop on the Walworth Rd that I used to be able to walk to from my flat in London. I could picture and smell Baldwins as I placed my order and reminisced, so grateful to my friend and hedge witch Mandi that I can control the fleas, as if by magic, on my dog and cats without resorting to dangerous chemicals.

It was full moon and I had a signed copy of "East of The Sun, West of the Moon" by Jackie Morris to pick up from Solva Woolen Mill, near St David's. I get such pleasure in being able to give presents that are signed personally by the artist. I have learned the hard way to get copies of each book with my name in them, otherwise I give them away too.

After a cappuccino in the cool mill full of woollen and luxurious goods, I headed to St Non's well.

 I come here at least eight times a year and have never noticed this flower before

I met some dogs on the way down to the well who had obviously had a very good time there. I have never seen it so muddy.

The cows were very insistent that I not visit the chapel this time. They would not let me through. Sputnik, my dog had refused to come down to the well this time, possibly because they had been a little over familiar and curious with her at Solstice?

Then to the cafe on the beach at White Sands and a hot chocolate with whipped cream. The first time I ever had this luxury was in The Copper Kettle in Cambridge prior to seeing Euripides' "Electra" in classical Greek at Kings College almost 40 years ago. My best friend was Italian, wore Fiorrucci slacks, spoke impeccable Latin and Greek and insisted I try a hot chocolate with whipped cream.... and here I sit on the edge of Wales remembering ....

gluten free apple crumble and ice cream followed ...bliss

 A selfie of the artist dreaming. The idea of a Rainbow Labyrinth colouring book came to me out of the blue.

Sputnik kept a look out

 

I could not resist a sunset swim

under the cloud dragons

               
                     

and as I drove home, the silvery moon had risen above St Davids

Love Letter To The Earth

I want to make deep, 

passionate, 

real, 

unhurried love 

to you, 

beloved Earth,

every day of the rest of my life

I want to lie down on your soft belly and feel you breathe

You are a wild, untameable, woman who will not be rushed

and if I can slow down and listen long enough

I might also gain the courage to go wild

I might hear the myriad secrets that you hold

the thousand daily miracles that you unfold

in every single cell of your magnificent body

I might dare to dance with you

my heart beating time with the timeless heart

of this wild untameable woman who will not be hurried or rushed

I want to slow 

down 

down 

down 

down

down

and really, 

truly, 

madly, 

deeply, 

slowly 

love the Earth

by Bríd Wyldearth 2014

Inspired by http://www.lovelettertotheearth.com/,

what started off as a poem encouraging others to slow down and listen to the Earth and has also metamorphosed into an invitation from Earth and then a statement from me that I want to love her, has at last become what I think she was always intended to be, a love letter from me to the Earth. I am amazed what a difference personal pronouns can make and how long it has taken me to declare my love directly to Earth. It is terrifying to me to declare my love to any being in this way. With humans there is a very real possibility of rejection and even ridicule and shame. With Earth I realise that there is no possibility of rejection. The invitation to love her has been there from the moment I was conceived, waiting for me to notice and listen and accept. This letter is therefore both a declaration and an R.S.V.P.

Solstice Blessing

I painted a rainbow labyrinth for the first time in a while today. 

Somehow life gets in the way of doing this thing that gives me such pleasure and peace. 

It is as though the labyrinth and the painting speak to me and teach me as I paint. 

Today she showed me how our universe whose centre is, for us, the centre of our earth, 

is the centre of a whole other universe, a whole other rainbow labyrinth 

which in turn is the centre of a much larger one. 

Is it possible that we live in a Russian doll like, infinite series of multiverses?

Solstice Blessing

may your soul shine with wisdom

may your vision be clear

may your stories be full of magic and truths

may you listen and remember and pay attention

may you walk in forests and breathe 

may you heal and be healed

may you be empowered and strong

may you create beauty and joy and love

and may you dance the dance that only you can dance

the dance for which you were made

The Song Of The Rainbow Labyrinth

After writing my journal and breakfast and a nap, I walk up the lane each day singing 

The Song Of The Rainbow Labyrinth.

Each day the song changes subtly as I come to understand her more clearly. Today it became obvious that vocal beings live in the sky and those who listen and remember are ocean beings. I suspect they are a tad interchangeable? Emerald beings have been Love, breath, Healing and breathing. Today they are healing loving kindness. Ruby beings have been core beings. Today they are both our heart and the heart of the Earth, both dancing and centred.

I then feed my animal family and the local pair of red kites before I paint a rainbow labyrinth.

Each rainbow labyrinth is different. Today i was concentrating on showing the relationship between turquoise and blue. I sat a looked for a while when I had finished. I was in awe of the colour and energy, aware of the boundaried green.

The Song Of The Rainbow Labyrinth

We are violet beings.

We are mysterious beings.

We are beings who know.

We are divine.

We are indigo beings.

We are night beings.

We are beings who see.

We are dreaming.

We are blue beings.

We are sky beings.

We are vocal beings.

We are sound.

We are turquoise beings.

We are Ocean beings.

We are beings who listen.

We are memory.

We are emerald beings.

We are forest beings.

We are beings who breathe.

We are healing, loving, kindness.

We are yellow beings.

We are rock beings.

We are bone beings.

We are strong.

We are amber beings.

We are magma beings.

We are blood beings.

We are art.

We are ruby beings. 

We are heart beings. 

We are dancing beings. 

We are centred.

We are Earth beings.

We are rainbow beings.

We are rainbow labyrinth beings.

We are peace.

It seems that painting rainbow labyrinths is becoming addictive.

I am loving the vivid inks I acquired last week

and. after what seems like years of trying to keep my labyrinths neat and symmetrical, I am loving the way I cannot control these water colour inks and how different each one is. Long before I had the dream, my friend Ann gave me a little portable pallet of watercolours and I would play for hours with the colours of the rainbow fading into each other in concentric circles. From these meditation paintings, I am beginning to think that painting in labyrinth walls interferes with allowing the colours to fade into each other.... maybe following the path of the labyrinth was never meant to be this easy?

Another thing that does not seem to want to be controlled is the story. For some reason, I thought it was complete but yesterday it became clear that it was just the beginning of a much longer set of adventures and then today when I went back to my long hand original version, I found a sentence which proves this was what was planned all along. Now all I need to do is write it.....

This afternoon I managed to type up the story of the rainbow labyrinth, provisionally titled "The Trouble With Trouble". Not quite sure what to do with it now? I suppose all I have to do now is finish eight paintings, one of each colour of my eight layered rainbow labyrinth, and see what happens next?

I do love the process of writing, of editing as I type, of reading the story out loud to myself and hoping that other people will share my taste and point of view.... 

There are times when I am not happy with my creations but when I am there is a small voice in my ear telling me not to show it, not to be big headed...

If I am not allowed to like and enjoy my creativity then what is the point?