Aroma, Lammas and Earth Witchery

Image from We Heart It

Following on from my previous post about natural perfume, I successfully made my first fragrance!

Friday 1st August was Lammas, the first of the three Pagan harvest celebrations leading us into Autumn. It is usually celebrated with baking bread and brewing ale and having a feast in honour of the Irish deity, Lugh. And during this feast we give thanks for our abundance and our blessings (I didn't bake bread, nor did I make ale but I dedicated the evening to him all the same!) Harvesting, creating and working with natural ingredients - I thought this would be the perfect time to put my aromatherapy knowledge and crafty hands to work.

Image from Tumblr

I created a portrait perfume of my sister. If she was a colour, she'd be indigo, if she were a taste, she'd be an exotic floral herbal tea, if she were a sound, she'd be the sound of windchimes, if she were a shape, she'd be a star. And so using this synaethesic palette, I made a blend of Frankincense, Ylang-Ylang, Rose, Jasmine, Neroli and Mandarin. I perfomed Reiki on the blend and have stored it in a dark purple glass jar for it to brew and with the high energy of Lammas infused, it'll charge her with the highest vibrations when she wears it. It's almost ready to bottle and every day I give it a shake and check on how it's coming along - I'm so happy with it, it has created the exact effect I wanted.

If I were to describe the scent it would be this:

A deep femininity that blossoms in the dark hours, a seasoned maternal energy ribboned with a youthful sparkle. A warm night of laughter in an Eastern land. Looking up at the stars in an exotic garden at midnight. Fairylights streaming across a path lined with flowers. Crystals draped around one's neck, feet bare upon the ripened earth.

Image from Tumblr

To continue my day of Earth Magick, I meditated and gave my thanks and offerings, laid out some crystals and burned some incense. I took out my Native American Tarot (Vision Quest) cards and drew one in honour of my connection with Spirit. I pulled The Shaman card which I later placed under my pillow for me to absorb the energy of it while I slept:

Image from Google search

This feels like exactly where I should be, crafting with nature and using ancient medicine. Old methods and herb knowledge are coming back to me in full force and although I have a shelf stacked with reference books, it is my intuition that's telling me which flowers, resins, oils and herbs to use for each purpose. And I just feel so blessed to have this gift.

In the Shadows

Every now and then I rediscover an appreciation for an art and then like a maniac I indulge in it for a condensed period of time and long to be able to create the same, but of course I can't do everything! I do however need to be constantly inspired seeing as though what I do involves a lot of imagination. I am incredibly visual and things not only stick better in my mind if I see them, but also I write from my photographic memory and it's the little details in each image that spur on a brand new idea.

Image from We Heart it

I once read in a very helpful book that when we write, we must write with our most honest voice and explore our 'shadow selves', the darker parts of ourselves. It is important to question and pick through what it is that makes us, us. Things have much bigger impact if they are somewhat curious or bizarre and for myself in particular, I admire things that are beautifully tragic, or tragically beautiful, however you wish to see it.

I've done a lot of this 'shadow self' thinking and I've often discussed with friends how we sometimes love to feel odd, different, a little dark (in a Tim Burton way) and sometimes even melancholic. I'm a sucker for putting on a sad song if I already feel sad, I'll wallow I admit - but how else can I describe that emotion if I don't explore it and really feel it?

Image from the movie Sleepy Hollow

But more to the point, dark things can be poetic and beautiful or at least on the surface, visually stimuating. I pick myself apart a lot, especially in this blog, if you hadn't noticed already!

I'm working on a collection of poems at the moment (amongst a tirade of other projects) and I promised myself I would write it with that voice, delivering the dark and the beautiful that rise up within like a serpent in those silent moments. Each poem will be set in 'darkness' or night time to be more accurate, with all its unsettling connotations as well as its magical ones.

My favourite show as a little girl wasn't My Little Pony but Knightmare and my favourite Roald Dahl story was The Witches. My favourite movies were films like Beetlejuice, Edward Scissorhands and The Lost Boys and at five years old my ears pricked up the first time I heard the song "Poison" by Alice Cooper. But of course, I don't just have a gothic's heart and managed to come into adulthood quite tame despite my querky interests as a child. I complimented them with the fluffier things in life like Disney, Sylvanian Families and Motown music (the rocker in me won the battle in the end) - the 'light' side of ourselves is just as important. 

So to make this blend work in a creative way, I sift through art until it strikes that chord and I think 'that's my style'...this week, two things have popped up: shadow theatre and ballet. I love shadow theatre and it's an art that I didn't really take heed of until I came across an amazing performance in Exeter. It was winter and it was late at night and on the side of the old town church, a dark fable was shown from a projector, the giant shadows twisted and danced upon this perfectly chosen building and I was enamoured. I unfortunately didn't get the name of that performance or the company that displayed it but I did find this shadow animation on YouTube which gives you the idea of shadow theatre if you've never paid attention to this sort of thing before. It's pretty and enchanting and I admire just how much work and creativity has to go into something like this.

The second thing that had me "ooh" and "ahhh" was Angelin Preljocaj's ballet interpretation of Snow White which showed last week at Saddler's Well Theatre in London. This darker, sexier version is something I really want to see and could be inspiring on so many levels. I'm absolutely gutted that I wasn't home to see it but I'm hoping it'll come back sometime in the not so distant future.

Snow White Ballet Performance

 “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.”

― Carl Jung

To be Literally Literary

I exist in many worlds, in my head and in person. I am of one that craves to stamp words on air or on paper to make reality out of feeling; I am a writer. I am also one of nostalgia, I constantly seek it as an emotion to remind me of who I am, where I have been, what I was. I am also one of dreams, the relentless movie creating of a hopeful and colourful future; I thrive on future goals and projects to fuel my fire. I am also of one that in fact, denies convention as a life map and instead I embrace the magical, the unknown and the 'other-worldy' and consider it all far more possible than what appears before my very own eyes.

I love words. One of my favourites is 'whimsical':

whim·si·calAdjective:

1. Playfully quaint or fanciful, esp. in an appealing and amusing way.
2. Acting or behaving in a capricious manner.

I am incredibly fanciful and I highly enjoy being so. I have the world perception of a hippy. I have the heart of a healer but guard it with the shield of a knight. I am Earthy and love to craft with my hands...I'm not afraid to graft. All of this makes me happy, but it confuses me too; the need to be all of this and the need to make a living can often repel each other - but not always. I know plenty of like-minded souls who exist through their creativity, it buys them their home and their holidays away.

My thought processes are spatial, not linear and so you see, it becomes a bit of a problem when I need to write in lines (how else?).

I wrote this a few months ago and it stills stands as my ultimate yearn in life:

A Plea to My Dormant Self

I spit my soundless words up at the sky in the hope that clouds will catch them and rain them back down on me, awakening my skin with cold breath.

A fellow friend and writer put it up on her fridge and that's the best response I could ever have hoped to get.

But if only I could wear my words like a ball gown; it would be opulent and dazzling, one with delicate detail and layers that descend the stairs before I do. I'd wear it everyday. It would become me and I it, it would be what I have to show the world.

And so, in my desire to live this world that combines my need for words, for spirituality, for knowledge, for craft, for dreams I've been brainstorming projects and have landed two solid ideas to make my future a rewarded existence. Solid ideas but not solid in practice...but soon to be revealed. And for now, I've been granted the chance here in Bali to put my words to good use: by translating French text and rewriting in English for one person and afterschool tutoring English for the eight-year old son of a friend. That's plenty to be getting on with for now, but it's not quite enough for this fanciful, dancing-in-the-forest dreamer.

I had a hypnotherapy session recently...I wanted to know what my blocks were, what fears I had lurking in dark corners of this forest dreamland that is my mind...what's stopping me from writing fervently, incessantly and throwing it out there like a frisbee for some editor, publisher or agent to catch. I regressed to a past life and worked through the lessons of that brutal Medieval time and was encouraged by the hypnotherapist to heal the root cause. But now I'm bursting at the seams with narrative and there isn't enough time or an adequate tool to manifest it with.

Funny how I was also recommended this novel by the same friend who put my words on her fridge:





I adored it. It made me feel everything I want to feel when I read a piece of literature. It made me see everything I want to see when I am given the opportunity to create a picture. It is also a story that parallels modern day with Medieval times. I devoured it in two days and it has made its way into my top ten favourites of all time. This story speaks so much of me that I am devasted that I didn't write it myself...but it prompts the question: which story is mine?

What I am also gutted about, is that I won't be in London for this:

http://www.worldbooknight.org/

A night-time event at The Southbank Centre that consists of candlelit readings on the terrace (including Mark Haddon reading his new yet to be published novel), comedy, spoken word, free cocktails and a mass giveaway of 10 titles. I am getting tearful at the laptop just thinking about this amazing event that I can't be at. Seeing as though I'm so fanciful, I'll just hope that I'll astral project myself there for it. Or, someone attend it for me, tell me how great it was and bag me a free book?

I Need Therapy

No, don't worry, this isn't a cry out for help. On Friday I was awarded a certificate in Aromatherapy Massage; another qualification to add to the others. Another tool in my belt to becoming an Holistic Therapist. I enrolled myself on this course because, well, quite frankly, I was craving it. Every now and then (usually every year) I get a desire to learn another therapy, go to a workshop or get involved in a ceremony like the sweat lodge I did in Arizona. I love to learn and I think I'll be a student for the rest of my life. I used to think that I was a "Jack of all trades and a master of none" but quite frankly, I'd much rather know a little bit about everything than be an expert in one particular thing. It's all part of my aim to gel together everything I've learned and qualified in and produce an all-rounded practice. So far I've got my BA in Creative Writing, my diploma in Herbalism, my practitioner's certificate in Colour Therapy and Angelic Reiki and now the Aromatherapy Massage. I'm already thinking about what's next...

I've never set myself up as a therapist before because I never had a space to practice from, didn't have enough money to start up with and was planning to travel first but the time is coming very soon for me to start helping people to balance their bodies, hearts and minds. For me, alternative therapies have done wonders for my own personal healing and growth. The Angelic Reiki atunements I received, working with colour, meditation, drinking herbal teas, using essential oils in candles and burners, doing yoga and going through a year of energy bodywork treatments has made me almost a brand new person - no scratch that, it has cleared out my negative emotions and the stagnant energy in my body that had sat there for years. It brought my mind, body and spirit closer in alignment. So not a brand new person but a stronger and an improved version of myself.


So, I want to facilitate this for others. I've got lots of ideas and projects that I want to get started on and a website is on the cards very soon. I'm open to collaboration projects in terms of running workshops so I'll be pulling in all my resources and getting anyone who's keen to get involved. When I'm back from Bali, I'll be looking to offer poetry workshops, painting mandala sessions, meditation classes, making natural remedies and cosmetics workshops and running Native American influenced groupwork and healings as well as being available for massages, aura cleansings, chakra balancing and reiki treatments so if you fancy any of that, please let me know. It'll be full of warmth, comfort and joy, I promise you!

On the road again

What a long time it has been since I pressed my thoughts onto this page and how much has changed in my life. I scribbled away furiously for three weeks to complete all my uni assignments-never will I write a story again that I felt was rushed and was only for the purposes of pleasing a tutor who may or may not get on with my work. Study over, life to start.

I moved house again, for the seventh time in five years and yet I am still not settled. This is just another tedious stepping stone closer to a home (although I'm beginning to think that this sort of thing doesn't exist). This time I can't unpack properly and my possessions are missing some of their companions; things I've had to leave in the foster care of others; but we'll all reunite one day I hope.

So, I'm supposed to look for a job now and even though I have a new qualification, I still don't have enough experience - pah! I'd love to work for myself, always wanted to really. I want to do it right this time. I think it is my soul's purpose to explore my creativity and spirituality...I've been told I must share it with others. But of course, I cannot do this from the confinement of my current dwelling...why is it so hard to be noticed by the outside world?...well I'm not even requesting that, I only ask that the city I live in find me worthy enough to help me make a living.

Everything is so different and everything is so uncertain. Either way, I move forward and the days go by; the seasons change. I'll ask the wind if she'll deliver some answers to my questions while she casts the pollen across my way.

In Bloom

Amongst the clearing and sorting, I am finally seeing a brighter path - or maybe just having more hope for one than before.

I truly believe that there aren't enough hours in a day to achieve what I'd like to. There isn't enough investment for all the things I wish to try in this lifetime, but I hold onto those wonders like jewels in the palm of my hand for I have the heart of an explorer.

The colours of flowers and bees making honey is surely adding to the optimism and I feel for the first time, that I finally may be close to complete personal breakthrough and so, I wait in excitement for the summer to deliver me the rewards of my release.