It’s taken weeks to formulate this post. And I still don’t know where to begin. Perhaps I never will.
How could I ever put into words the experiences that I’ve had over the last 6 months?
The alchemical mixture of synchronicity, weaving, wool work and pure magic came together to form a threshold- one that lead me directly into the heart of the labyrinth, the lap of the gods, the red seed of the earth, Baba Yaga’s horse teeth.
I moved into the world of not only Weaverhood, but Womanhood.
My time as maiden is now in full flow, my work, after six months of refinement and tuning, now allows me the space to connect to the web- to channel greater truths and to chip away at greater mysteries along side my sisters (you know who you are).
Imogen has not only equipped me with the skills to produce work to a professional standard, but has also shown me the path to power in all its senses.
As a truly embodied artist herself, Imogen has so beautifully demonstrated what it means to live and breath our truths- our precious and sacred existence, in turn giving me the space and resource to live and express my own purpose within this sacred web, with weaving as my vessel.
A part of me sheds.
I’ve been here before,
This ivy stricken clematis adorned rose wood door
I pass through, sisters in hand
Crone, Mother and maiden
Together we land.
Woolen locks unfurling, madder woad onion and stone
Wading through spindles, laid out like bones.
They guide me, my sisters to a red moon scarlet throne
Shuttles in hand, wearing woven garments of light and beetle shell tint, we stride further into the night, greeting badger fox and wolf
Buzzard deer horse and frog
Whales womb, woven walls of wonder, deep sea cocoon.
Batt guides me to the loom
Red as ox blood, the bones are laid
Warp stretches, weft bends and flexes
Tension, softness and sound
The holy trinity
Light is darkening now.
Magpie calls, we have just buried him. Torn his wings and strung up his talons, silently we wait for his secrets forever to unfurl, magic to reveal and truth to prevail
Woven wonders of mystery and grief
The art of letting go
This threshold holds such peace embodied in passion thriving and laughter
Darkness engulfs me, I swim in this bottomless void. I have never been so happy, so content, so full of boundless joy.
My sisters hold my hands, Baba Yaga cackles to me, her horse blood teeth have latched on under my skin where bone meets Fox blood song.
The earth is pulsing, convulsing, alive she must survive. Rosemary mother wort and Mint. Lavender, berries and yarrow. Guide me through this door, harvest my love, take me to the loom, to the woollen holy tomb, carders in hand, skeins in adundance.
This moon is rising, and the only time I speak is when I’m being spoken through.
Ancestral healing, medicine, I hear their call.
I have arrived,
I am a woman now.
From April to August 2019
1. Silence: I walk from red to black to white to grey along this circle road
3.Golden Blue, I love you x
4. Cloth of light
5. Womb Belt
6. First Professional Piece
7. Second Professional Piece
8. Ocean Creature
10. Golden Sand
12. Badger: Snout to the Ground
And so it is done.
And so it will go on.
Blessings and eternal love to all,
My all beings be free from suffering.