Mid Morning Break

At 10.15 a.m. the hand bell, from the school across the river, rings for morning break. I move from the beds to the shade of the shed, drink iced water, sit down on the roots of the old golden apple tree and watch the view. Dry season, it is hot. The water in the ravine trickles below Job's Tears to the river below. There is a digger working in the village of Vendome and the horns of the large trucks announce their descent of the winding mountain road. Lesser Antillean bullfinch, bananaquit and butterflies pass by with the cooling breeze that rustles the royal palms.

The Guardian of the Calivigny Mango

The old Calivigny mango stands behind the house.

Nestled at its' waist is this little lady decked out in
all her finery.

Playtime

 Coconut flower stalks, coconut flex, banana straw and raffia.

Between projects and a little out of sorts, I spied the bag of
booty I had brought down from Corn Buck a few weeks ago
and looked inside. Play, the doing of something for the sheer
pleasure of it, is a pastime that I have forgotten to indulge in.
Work is worthy, as is cleaning, cooking etc. but play, as with
sticks in mud or a stone skimmed, has somehow become
something that I find myself either never having the time for
or feeling guilty about.
The very word 'indulge' suggests a secret vice.
I was surprised to realise this about myself, surprised by how
serious and earnest I had become about 'the work' and even
more surprised by the fact that I was surprised that the flow
of creativity had dried up.

Direction

"It may be that when we no longer know what to do,
we have come to our real work

and when we no longer know which way to go,
we have begun our real journey.

The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings."

― Wendell Berry

Full Moon in Virgo last night.

The Forestry

the forestry
the place
to be

the forestry
shares gifts
with me

the forestry
is where
I see

the forestry
brings quiet
to mind

the forestry
time to
unwind

the forestry
sings a
keening call

the forestry
home to all

the forestry
returns us
to

the forestry
of me
and you.

The crock of gold

Once upon a time, a long time ago, or it could have been the day
before yesterday, a woman looked out from her front step and
wondered,"Shall I dig for it now?" She checked with the moon
and watched the weather and decided it was time.

The flowers
were almost
done and the
leaves had
turned yellow
and wilted

and with the
turn of the
fork, which
was easier
said than done,
the buried
treasure was
revealed.

She carefully teased the soil from the roots and left them in the
sun to cure. The next day she sat by the pipe in the yard with a
scrubbing brush and a bucket of water and washed and scrubbed
and washed and scrubbed and washed and scrubbed some more.

By lunchtime all her golden nuggets were clean and shining.

With an aching back and a painful posterior, ('is how you sit on
the bucket' her lovely husband told her later) she settled
down on the floor upstairs in the little house, with a sharp knife and
a silver bowl, and began to chip, (just like Miss UG had taught her)

and chip and chip and chip and chip and chip and chip and chip.

Finally, her work
was done. She
put everything to
dry in the sun
next to the
cocoa beans
on the
veranda.












Naturally, despite scrubbing and soaping

she was left with the Midas touch and went to bed to dream of
Rumpelstiltskin.
To be continued...................

Imbolc

Imbolc is the time of
cleaning, sweeping, sowing, dreaming,
new beginnings, self forgiveness,
nourishment, light, renewal,
candles, cake and milk.

In the dark days of February in Northern climes
when the days are short and the nights are long,
between Winter Solstice and Spring
Brighid brings life and hope and sustenance.
She also offers me the perfect opportunity
to finish the cleaning I was supposed to have done
for Christmas .

Banana fibre paper

Going to try this minus:
my hand in the blender,
the blue dye
and wearing my best yellow jersey.

Parcels, Packaging and Gifts

The gathered
dried seeds of the
Bixa tree are
covered in a
red pigment
that I am
hoping to use
for an art project
in the near future.

I also love the gift
wrapping provided
by Mother Nature.

Just a little taster!

Last night
we took the bus
down to town
and spent a lovely
evening here at
the opening of the
Grenada Arts Council
Annual Open Exhibition.

There were wonderful
pieces on show and it
was inspiring to see
the diverse creativity 
that exists here on
this little island.

Observations
from nature
sit happily
besides
vibrant
geometric
designs.

Deep emotional
responses
to love and
affairs of the heart

rub shoulders
with evocative
sensuality.

Beautiful
photographic
images
gel

with
unbelievable
painting

The superb
works of
mother and son
hang side by side.

 Music

 lifestyle








Anansi

beautiful blooms

exquisite batik

sculpture,
jewellery....
heart work



.........and so much more.
All can be seen at the Grenada Arts Council's Gallery,
in Young Street,St. George's. from now until the 28th February.

Shadow

and Cathy
are
thrilled
to be there.

P.S. If you have
a link to any of the
images that
you would like
to include  here, please
let me know.

My Desk

Being allowed to nose around in other peoples' work places
is one of my favourite pastimes. To be invited to peek into
a private, creative and intimate space of those artists I admire
is such a treat.
That is one of the many reasons I invite you to visit
Jackie Morris
who is hosting "International Desk Day: or, nosing around other
peoples' spaces" on her blog. There, not only will you be able to
see her wonderful artwork, kittens, cats, bears, dragons and
home but also the delightful desks and work of others. You
can also join in the fun by posting your desk on your blog.

Shadow the 'overfamiliar'

The talk will spread,
 "...I tellin' you! dat cat deh 'pon she back when she weedin'!"
and I can't deny it.

If you would like to see more of what happens here in the garden
(without having to peep from behind a fig tree,) you are most
welcome to click here.

Happy New Year!

I just want to wish each and everyone of you who finds your
way to our little blog dot on the globe a very Happy New Year
for 2013! It is always a pleasure to find you were here with us.
I felt that I had had a difficult time during 2012, as I am sure
many of you did also, but yesterday Chookooloonks gave me
a gift of perspective which completely altered my view and
made me realise just how wonderful 2012 really was!
If you took any photographs during 2012 then you too can
experience this by visiting her blog. It may bring a tear or two,
but I guarantee you won't be disappointed.
The very wonderful T also surprised me with a gift today,
a hand carved fish he made to bring a smile to the face of a
Piscean who sometimes swims too deep.
I leave you in the safe hands of Mr Paul Weller xxx            

Chavela Vargas: No Soy de Aqui, Ni Soy de Alla.

I'm not from here, nor from there
I have no age, nor future
And being happy is the color of my identity

We come to the end of 'another year' but what if
this one is the last? Not in a morbid way or with
regret but, in the words of Maurice Sendak
live your life live your life live your life

Craft in America

Rarely do we get to watch art or craft programs on television.
T subscribes to the sports channels, being an avid cricket and
football fan and we have a basic package that brings us various
'reality' TV shows, CNN, God, cartoons, local 'news' and 
advertisements that exhort us to purchase products unavailable
here. However, currently showing on Channel 44, PBS, is
Craft in America. Wonderful. Catch it while you can!
One never knows when our cable provider will decide we
have seen enough and take it off without warning, as recently
experienced with the final episode of Survivor Philippines!

Seasons Greetings to Everyone

Shadow with Xinnias

Diwali

 

Of Samhain, All Hallows and All Souls

At this time of year I yearn for the damp darkening days of autumn, ancestral rituals and rites.
The strong tug of deep Celtic roots demand acknowledgement and rightly so. To deny where one comes from sometimes seems essential to survival in a foreign land but, on special occasions such as tonight, it is very necessary to return in some way. So I sneaked the pumpkin from the yard and carved it quickly before T came home, not that he minded but ... Now I think of sweet chestnuts and how breadnut taste similar when roasted. Apples are absent but the feeling is the same. You can read about Samhain here, if you would like to.  Tomorrow we will clean the graves of T's ancestors for All Souls, plant flowers and light candles For now, I place the lantern in the window and glimpse the thin veil between worlds .

Of course we need a little music to bring to this night and I can think of nothing more wonderful than.........

I forbid you maidens all that wear gold in your hair

To travel to Carterhaugh for young Tam Lin is there
None that go by Carterhaugh but they leave him a pledge
Either their mantles of green or else their maidenhead
Janet tied her kirtle green a bit above her knee
And she's gone to Carterhaugh as fast as go can she
She'd not pulled a double rose, a rose but only two
When up there came young Tam Lin, says "Lady, pull no more"
"And why come you to Carterhaugh without command from me?"
"I'll come and go", young Janet said, "and ask no leave of thee"

Janet tied her kirtle green a bit above her knee
And she's gone to her father as fast as go can she
Well, up then spoke her father dear and he spoke meek and mild
"Oh, and alas, Janet," he said, "I think you go with child"
"Well, if that be so," Janet said, "myself shall bear the blame
There's not a knight in all your hall shall get the baby's name”
For if my love were an earthly knight as he is an elfin grey
I'd not change my own true love for any knight you have"


Janet tied her kirtle green a bit above her knee
And she's gone to Carterhaugh as fast as go can she
"Oh, tell to me, Tam Lin," she said, "why came you here to dwell?"
"The Queen of Faeries caught me when from my horse I fell
And at the end of seven years she pays a tithe to Hell
I so fair and full of flesh and feared it be myself
But tonight is Hallowe'en and the faerie folk ride
Those that would their true love win at Miles Cross they must buy
First let past the horses black and then let past the brown
Quickly run to the white steed and pull the rider down
For I'll ride on the white steed, the nearest to the town
For I was an earthly knight, they give me that renown
Oh, they will turn me in your arms to a newt or a snake
But hold me tight and fear not, I am your baby's father
And they will turn me in your arms into a lion bold
But hold me tight and fear not and you will love your child
And they will turn me in your arms into a naked knight
But cloak me in your mantle and keep me out of sight"

In the middle of the night she heard the bridle ring
She heeded what he did say and young Tam Lin did win
Then up spoke the Faerie Queen, an angry queen was she
”Woe betide her ill-fought face, an I'll death may she die”
"Oh, had I known, Tam Lin," she said, "what this night I did see
I'd have looked him in the eyes and turned him to a tree”

Full Moon

The Full Moon in Taurus taken from our front step last night, how beautiful she is, bathing us all in her special light. All our thoughts are with those who were affected by the life changing tides that accompanied Hurricane Sandy. Mystic Mama gives us some insights into how we can best use the energy from this particular moon.