A pinch of love, a dash of courage, a drop of joy. What do you see when you read that? Do you see women in pointy hats stooped over a heaving cauldron?
I shall tell you what I see, I see the women of my blood who have made potions within kitchens for centuries. Ones that walked out to pick weeds for ailments and berries for supper. Women that wrote down what the best batch was in heavily watermarked journals. I see women who cackled together over good tea. Both these women and a good tea have become all but lost to us now. I know they are there because I feel them in my bones but to see them is trickier. For that you have to trust and you have to delve into their world. Now there is a lot to be said for a good tea, the witches brew. Most don't realise what a sacred act this is but to pick, grind and stew your own is a spell all to itself. So when I drink my tea of rose, meadowsweet or nettle I feel the mutterings of the women before rising through the steam, tiny parts of those conversations condense on my mug or the shelves around my kitchen and become 'Women of Tea' small souls born of a brew, full of meaning and grandmother wisdom.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Welcome to
|
It is time to rest those weary bones on the earth and enjoy the peace of this magical place. This is a place I have known for a very long time and have gratefully been gifted the ability to recreate the creatures that reside here in wool, thread and words.
I really hope that my sculptures bring you joy and that my blog posts about The Whispering Wild and my life within it inspire you to help open your heart to my wild and creative life. Much love and magic xx |
December 2020
October 2020
August 2020
July 2020
June 2020
April 2020
March 2020
January 2020
December 2019
October 2019
September 2019
August 2019
July 2019
June 2019
May 2019
April 2019
March 2019
January 2019
December 2018
October 2018
August 2018
May 2018
December 2017
November 2017
October 2017
August 2017
July 2017
June 2017
May 2017
April 2017
March 2017
January 2017