| Black winged like the midnight Moon--- ever watchful---clear eyed--- hear me---guide me--- teach me old magick, guard my Crafting, keenly--- lend me your wisdom that I may cast with boldness and insight beneath your eloquent gaze. )0( Brenna |
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| Musings |
| An Entry from my Book of Shadows October 2000 ---Spent the better part of the day in the woods of the Hart Farm---walking and foraging---gathering American Walnuts, acorns, particular fallen branches, Hawthorn berries and leaves, various fallen feathers, rose hips and so on throughout the dips and rises of the land. A good crisp day---a full autumn sun---faint breeze to cool th skin. Found a turtle sheel when first out---a snail shell lying in a crevace near an overhaong cave (gave that to Cat)---and on my way out of the woods, a large brownish-green toad perched at the roots of an Elm. As I bent to get a better look, another bit of movement to my right---a large (almost too large for comfort) black salamander. All in all---too much for mere accident---all in all a glorious day! |
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| On Being Inspired... At different points, in various places, during flashes, we are inspired by others. We are inspired by people we know and those we don't---we are inspired by the animals that live with us and by those that live beyond the fence or camera lense---we are inspired by the Ancestors and by those who have yet to be. There are big inspirations and small inspirations----Grand Inspiration and mundane. It isn't that Grand inspiration is better than mundane inspiration, it is that the latter does not resonate as proundly as the first----does not compel or shove us into action. Mundane inspirations, once accumalated certainly transform into Grand Inspiration. Rarely, does Grand Inspiration occur in a sudden burst as Shelley would have us believe. We are all capable of Grand and mundane inspiration---but it does require awareness. One gets better at recognizing it in its many guises with practise and mindfullness. It requires listening. (more later...) |
| I am inspired by... My Mother, Gertrude, who continues to teach me from beyond the veil. Emily Dickinson, whose words flung open the doors and shone bright light on dark corners---without asking. My husband's deep set blue eyes. Chaucer's (my dog) unwavering devotion. Found stones and feathers. Wildlife documentaries Thomas Hardy novels The Atlantic Ocean My Cat's attitude Sadness |