cliodhna’s wave

Hare, moon magic and swift running and wide eyes and long slender limbs that dart this way and that and flash of white tail bounding over the land. Hare is magic and music and beauty. She is my latest obsession, having graduated in some way from a white fox I now paint and draw hares.

Who remembers Masquerade? Those of you in ireland and england certainly might. I remember the hare and the illustrations though I was too young when it came out to get involved in the quest.

The first image that captivated me was Albrecht Dürer. The study of a young hare. I think it was more the reality of the drawing that got me first, at an age when drawing like that seemed an impossibility to me and now that I see it after many years it seems less somehow, like I imbued it with a magical presence and untouchability when I was young and that impression stayed with me. It is still beautiful and it is a quiet hare that he drew.

My own image of a hare. This is quite large, around 3×4 feet and I like it. It is still sitting in my work room waiting for the sides to be painted and for me to sign it.

a beautiful soft hare sculpture that caught me on etsy by dragonhouseofyuen

a nice image by ElleJW

and lastly, cause my two dogs like nothing better than a charge across the countryside after hares they have not a chance in hell of catching this doggy collar! by fairytailcollars

A girl stretches upwards to reach for the moon; through the red earth and the stones and the hardness of pushing through she stretches and feels for the silver coolness of the moons light pulling her into the night.

The night is cool and dark and welcoming. It is not scary in this night, it is full of life, full of the life that comes out in the darkness and out of the heat of the daytime sun. Animals watch her coming forth, they are witnessing and waiting and encouraging with their breath and giving her energy to complete the journey.

I was reading the other day about a dog who was helping a war veteran with his panic attacks and I have always thought that dogs were such unconditional love beings. We are lucky to have them in our lives. This is Pala who is a sweet loving snuggle monster. Her fur is soft (and sheds everywhere!) and she likes most of all to be curled up in a lap or an the bed beside me. I spoil her.

We are surrounded by animals giving us love and encouragement, even the small creepy ones or the ones that bite.. they are just trying to tell us something, its not our fault if we don’t understand them.

My latest embroidery of the greenwitch. I have been finishing off and tidying up my work recently, putting borders and names and backs on things that have been sitting half finished. When I go back to ireland they shall be ready to be presented hopefully to galleries to look for an exhibition.

life is tricky sometimes, to negotiate each moment with truth and wisdom, what way to go? which choice is the right one? am I obeying my fears right now and hiding or maybe it’s just not the right time to do something. Patience with myself. All is well. No need to rush, negotiate my own inner maze slowly and with love, if I go wrong I can always go back to where I started. Let my heart be my guide, if it is happy then I am going the right direction, even if it seems the wrong way at the time.

letting go to flow free.. open hands and let the bird fly away, no point in making wishes and then holding them so tightly they smother!

I wish for a gift of clarity

I wish for a gallery to show my work in, to have an exhibition to work towards

I wish for success for my business

I wish to write always from the heart so even if I get it wrong sometimes I have done my best

I wish for a happy life for me and Paul

I wish for a really cool old car to drive around

I wish that my puppy and my cat will get on when they meet.. I anticipate fireworks!

what do you all wish for?

Standing on Sandymount strand one early evening with my bike propped against my hip I gaze out into the sands and pools of shimmering water left by the outgoing tide that stretch for easily a mile out of shore. The sky is that wonderful almost transparent blue/purple that has a promise of mystery and a hint of things hidden about to be revealed. The sun has just dropped below the horizon of houses behind me, the moon is just peeking over the horizon in front of me and just up to the right Venus shines in her first star glory.

I begin to do a mental exercise. I imagine it all in 3d. I put the sun behind me and the earth a ball on which I stand spinning on its axis on its orbit around the sun. I put the moon on its smaller orbit around the earth and Venus on her orbit, a smaller one closer to the sun and moving faster then we are. I put aside all notions of up or down or flat orbits and I place us all in space, where these considerations do not apply

I play with this idea for a minute, and then suddenly it hits me with full force. It becomes real. I look up/down/sideways and grip my bike tightly as if to give me weight. There is nothing above me. Nothing, really nothing holding me onto this spinning ball we call home. There is no such thing as ‘sky’; that is a word made to give us a safe concept of having a roof over our heads. Only reason its blue during the day is because of reflecting light. I have incredible vertigo for a few seconds and then slowly it passes and I am once more feet on solid ground again.

Thank you gravity, whatever you are!

A girl sits on a stone on the sea shore, lonely for her friend who moved away. She sits and remembers and feels very alone. The sea is grey and the waves are endless and there is a chill on the air that makes her shiver. She makes up a story about a sea creature, the spirit of this place who also has lost a friend. This friend left the sea shore and went on search of where he belonged in the world. The sea has no answers, only shifting moods of colour and tide.

She tries to write the story to avoid the ache in her own heart and she can write endless reams of dream prose, of sea grays and blues and pangs of loss and loneliness and all from the perspective of the creature left behind who cannot leave the shore and must sit and wait endlessly for the friends return.

The creature bemoans the fact that she had ever met this ‘other’ because before that she had no memories. She thinks she might have been happy. She remembers light and darkness and water and wind and movement of crabs and anemones back and forth across the shore but no more than that. She remembers warmth and cold and the bright sun and the silver moon that changed shape as the sea changed shape and the waters inside her also were pulled back and forth.

The first real day the creature remembers in full, as a whole day, from dawn to dusk with awakenings in-between was the day the ‘other was washed up on the shore and opened its eyes and looked straight at her.

Here the girl becomes stuck and cannot go any further. She cannot imagine what these two would say to each other. Maybe she does not want to imagine. It would make too real what she has just lost and so she reads and rereads what she has already written and she skips to write the end where the ‘other’ has gone again and she is back with her creature on the sea shore mourning its loss and now awake and conscious of her loneliness.

The other is made of what people have thrown into the sea and brought to life by all the unanswered unfulfilled dreams that the sea holds for us until we are ready to receive them. The creature is the soul of the sea and can’t understand why the other would need to go in search of something that was already here.

That was then and this is now and the girl healed her heart and resolved her loss and found what she was looking for. The moon made her a gift of a silver heart, a little battered but still whole, the sun made her a gift of wisdom, the wind gave her a push out into the world and the world gave her a true friend to share her life with. Now maybe the story can be written from both sides and brought to an end. x.

good sunday everyone,

I wrote to a friend recently saying how great it was that the old symbols survive in spite of everything. Religions come and go but rabbits and the moon and birth and fertility keep getting celebrated. Easter according to one source is the old pagan goddess of fertility ‘Eostre’and easter is always celebrated on the first full moon after the spring equinox. I googled it a few days ago and came across a whole load of christian sites saying “easter is pagan” and admonishing us to quit with the fluffy bunny rabbits and eggs and concentrate on the ‘real’ meaning. As usual they don’t want anyone having fun….

What else.. Ooo.. threadless are having a sale, all their t shirts are 9 and 12 dollars. They are selling out fast and the sale is only till wednesday so get in there and have a look. I have bought about five shirts for various birthdays and a few for me (with an email to my sister telling her to choose one because the last time she ordered some I tried them all on and stole one!)(it was my birthday, she said I could… after I was wearing it and gave her the whole puppy dog treatment, pleeeeeease?) The picture above is called the battle of E5 and I got it for my brother and for Paul. The one below is for me called Victor Terrintop.

I actually sold two things from my etsy store! I was about to give up on it. Thing is I had a brainwave about three weeks ago when I realised from a feng shui perspective that I was sleeping with my feet facing the toilet so I was flushing everything I did down the drain so I moved the bed around (paul thought I was mad but helped me move the bed) and its incredible what moving furniture can do to a room. Our room is twice the size now and I love the new perspective. I makes a new room out of it and I wonder why it didn’t occur to me to do it ages ago. I am now posting things on etsy again. Thing is its an great place but there are something like 3 million people selling on etsy so advertising is necessary. You have to post things frequently so you are near the top of the search pages in there but also I need to start do some advertising myself. Have to think about that now…..

ok, off to find coffee and think, there is no coffee in the house and the cafe doesn’t open till ten. have to wait…

happy easter however you want to celebrate it! but could you imagine easter without the chocolate eggs? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

So, birds are messengers between ourselves and the other world. i am sending my wish to the universe and it flies outward to bring it to the heart of all, the source. The earth supports me in this, she looks on happily sending me inspiration so I can find the exact right words I need in order to frame my wish. She holds the sun within herself and the moon  in her hand through all its phases of waxing and waning.
I have finished these and are already planning the next two. Getting to grips once more with oil paints and I am having ideas I want to try out…. such fun!