Season's wishes to all!

The Winter Solstice has arrived, and with it a quick note from me to wish everyone a very happy Yuletide, Christmas and New Year.

I hope the end of the year brings with it family time, fun, peace and the promise of renewal, awakening and longer days to come!

Featured painting: Winter's Dream by Amanda Clark

A winter's journey of art and fairy tales

Last week I finally embarked on a long-desired visit to the Obsidian Gallery in Stoke Mandeville, Buckinghamshire, lured by the promise of fairy tales and dragons at the two newest exhibitions.






Unphased by an inconveniently broken car (ok, maybe a little bit phased), I hopped on a train to my sister's house, from which her fully operational car would carry us both to this magical wonderland of art.

And we were not disappointed...

Within the walls of what looks like a farm shop on the outside, we entered a light, welcoming space where every wall, cabinet and shelf is filled with paintings, drawings, papercuts, sculpture, jewellery and other objects.

Our eyes instantly sought out the work of our favourite artists who are exhibiting there - Jesa Marshall (more on her jewellery soon!), Amanda Clark, Tamsin Abbott and Jackie Morris - before we began to make new discoveries.

Ed Org's drawings and paintings, such as The Green Man's Lament; Mel Chambers' ceramic tiles; Flora McLachlan's etchings and watercolours; and Heidi Vilkman's papercuts were among the hundreds of captivating creations.

But without doubt the pieces that had the most impact on me on this occasion were the tree paintings of Mark Duffin.

Using acrylic with gold and silver leaf and crystals he achieves such delicacy, such luminescence, such ethereal magic. The kind of paintings you can find yourself lost in for a moment, slightly mesmerised, but calm - and full of wonder at what lies outside the boundaries of the canvas.

I left the gallery with a beaming smile, and with Covenant carefully wrapped and tucked safely under my arm, with its firey reds, oranges and golds, crescent moon and sleeping dragon entwined in tree and earth.

The Winter Fairy Tales and 'Ere be Dragons exhibitions are on at the Obsidian Gallery until 31 December - so there's still time to share in the magic!

Featured artwork: Hidden Forest by Heidi Vilkman; Arch Dragonfly Tile - "Every New Day" by Mel Chambers; Winter, The Green Man's Lament by Ed Org; By Owl-light by Flora McLachlan; Journey by Heidi Vilkman; Regal by Mark Duffin; Snow Tree by Mark Duffin; Blessing by Mark Duffin; Covenant by Mark Duffin

Where magick lives...

I've just received the latest issue of The Magical Times, in which appears my first article for the magazine! It features comments from artist and illustrator Marc Potts, jewellery designer Jesa Marshall, writer and artist Jackie Morris and musician Cyoakha Grace.

Do head to the website to order your copy if you haven't already. This issue is packed full of inspiration!

The Green Lady: a folk tale discovery

I've just finished reading a wonderful book called Norfolk Folk Tales by the mesmerising story-teller Hugh Lupton, in which I discovered a story that was entirely new to me (so many folk tales, after all, are familiar to us, in some form or other).

The Green Lady is a story attributed to Norfolk because of certain words of local dialect, and is said to have been told by a 95-year-old Norfolk woman, but it is given no particular setting or place in time. Dark, vivid and surreal, it is full of fascinating and intriguing characters.

Over to Hugh Lupton for his retelling of the tale...

Once upon a time there lived a poor old man who had three daughters. One day the eldest daughter said: "Father, give me a cake and a bottle of water so that I can go and seek my fortune."

Her father gave her what she asked for and she set off along the road. After a while she met a little old man who asked her: "Where are you going?"

"To seek service."

"Give me your cake and water, then walk 'til you see a house with a green door. Knock and you'll find fortune... though whether for good or ill I cannot tell."

The girl replied: "The road is long, my legs ain't strong. I'll keep my cake and water."

She walked for a long time, eating and drinking as she went, until she came to the house with a green door. She knocked at the door. Out came a lady who was green from head to foot. Her hair, her face, her dress, her hands, and her feet were as green as leaves, and her two eyes as green and sharp as emeralds.

"What do you want?"

"I've come seeking service."

"What can you do?"
The girl made a dob (curtsey). "I can bake and I can brew, and I can make an Irish stew."
"Very well, I'll take you on, but on two conditions: you must neither look up the chimney nor inside the clock-case of the grandfather clock.

The girl agreed and they went inside. That night, she slept in front of the fire. The next morning she was up at the crack of dawn, cleaning and washing the hearth. As she was working, the green lady's daughter came down the stairs. She was as green as her mother and she was riding a black cat.

"Be so kind as to cut me a slice of bread and spread some butter on it."

The girl turned. "Can't you see I'm scrubbing the hearthstone?"

"Then you'll scrub no longer!"

She called upstairs, and her mother came riding down with a chopper in her hand. With one swing of it the girl's head was cut clean from her shoulders. The green daughter hung the head in the chimney, and her mother put the body in the clock-case of the grandfather clock.

Some little while later, the second daughter set off to seek her fortune with a cake and a bottle of water. She met the little old man and all happened as before: "The road is long, my legs ain't strong. I'll keep my cake and water."

When she came to the house with the green door she made a dob: "I can bake and I can brew, and I can make an Irish stew."

The green lady took her on with the same two conditions. The next morning the girl was up at the crack of dawn, cleaning and washing the doorstep. Down came the green daughter on her black cat.

"Be so kind as to cut me a slice of bread and spread some butter on it."

"Can't you see I'm scrubbing the doorstep?"

"Then you'll scrub no longer!"

Down came the green lady with a chopper in her hand, and with one swing of it the girl's head was cut clean from her shoulders. The head was hung in the chimney, and the body in the clock.

Well, weeks and months passed. Then, one day, the younger daughter set off to seek her fortune. After she'd walked for a while she met the little old man: "Where are you going?"

"To seek service."

"Give me your cake and water, then walk 'til you see a house with a green door. Knock and you'll find your fortune... though whether for good or ill I cannot tell."

The girl replied: "The road is long, my legs are strong. Please take my bread and water."

She walked for a long time, her belly aching with hunger, until she came to the house with a green door: out came the lady, green as leaves and her eyes as sharp as emeralds.

"What do you want?"

"I've come seeking service."

"What can you do?"

She made a dob. "I can bake and I can brew, and I can make an Irish stew."

"Very well, I'll take you on, but on two conditions, you must neither look up the chimney, nor inside the clock-case of the grandfather clock."

The third daughter said neither yes nor no, but followed the green lady into the house. That night she slept in front of the fire. The next morning she was up at the crack of dawn, cleaning and washing the oven. Down came the green lady's daughter: "Be so kind as to cut me a slice of bread and spread some butter on it."

The girl jumped to her feet and fetched a loaf from the cupboard. She sliced and buttered it, and gave it to the green daughter. The daughter was delighted. She called to her mother, and all three of them sat at the table and ate their fill... and as for the girl, she ate and ate until her aching belly ached no longer.

That afternoon, when the oven had been cleaned spotless, the green lady said: "You stay and mind the house; we're going out for a ride."

The two black cats were saddled and bridled, and the green lady and her daughter rode away across the green fields and into the green woods.

As soon as they were gone, the girl ran to the chimney and looked upwards. There, she saw the heads of her two sisters hanging by their hair. She reached and took them down. She sat with them cradled in her lap. She combed their hair and washed the soot from their cheeks with her tears.

Then she looked in the clock-case of the grandfather clock. There, she saw her sisters' bodies. She pulled them out and laid them on the ground. She straightened the fold and creases of their skirts and blouses. Then she put their heads to their shoulders. And the skin of their necks melted and melded, and their eyes winked and blinked, and each of them drew in a breath of air.

"Where have we been?"

"Never mind that," said the third daughter. "Quick! Come with me."

She took their hands and they ran out into the garden. They ran past apple and pear trees until they came to a clump of gooseberry bushes. The girl called out:

"Hide us hide us

So that they won't find us

If they do they'll break our bones

And bury us under the marble stones."

They dived in among the bushes, and not one thorn pierced them. They were only just in time. The green lady and her daughter came riding up to the house. They opened the door.

"Be so kind as to cut us a slice of bread and spread some butter on it."

But there was no answer. They looked here and there. The girl was gone. They looked up the chimney and inside the clock. Her sisters were gone. They shrieked with fury. They seized their choppers and leapt onto the backs of the two black cats.

First they asked the apple trees: "Where did they go?"

But the apple trees wouldn't answer, so they chopped them down.

Then they asked the pear trees: "Where did they go?"

But the pear trees wouldn't answer, so they chopped them down.

Then they came to the gooseberry patch. "Which way did they go?"

And one gooseberry bush said: "This way and that way and hither and yon."

And another gooseberry bush said: "And on and over the river."

So they rode out of the garden to the river's edge, and they whipped the black cats into the water... but down they sank and the water closed over them. The green lady and her daughter were drowned.

As for the three sisters, they crawled out from under the gooseberry bushes, went to the house, lifted the latch and opened the door. They searched downstairs and upstairs, they peered into chests and cupboards... and they found gold enough to last them the rest of their days.

So they lived happy, and so may we, let's put on the kettle and have a cup of tea.

Excerpt from Norfolk Folk Tales by Hugh Lupton, available on Amazon, but try your local independent bookshop first!

Green door photo: Eirian Evans
Featured painting: Spirit of the Forest by Josephine Wall
Gooseberry bush photo: kahvikisu

Jewellery for the imagination

Jewellery is one of my main passions in life, and I'm always on the lookout for great craftsmanship and original designs that speak directly to me as a reflection of my interests, personality and imagination. And so it was that I ventured forth to London for the annual International Jewellery London (IJL) exhibition to seek out some new inspiration.

Bathed in light under the Victorian barrel-vaulted glass roof of the main hall at the Olympia conference centre, around 520 stands showcased the latest jewellery designs and designers. Among them were the stands of big name brands, gemstone suppliers, timepiece manufacturers, new graduates and smaller independent designers. Excitedly, I set about my mission...

First to jump out at me were the silver and gold spinning rings of Solo Line, and I spoke briefly to the designer Yossef Naor who had travelled from Romania for the event. She highlighted the many different styles and combinations of materials that were available in the range, including stones such as opal. I especially liked the hammered surface of the rings, which added texture and an almost rustic effect - as well, of course, as the wonderful spinning elements.

Moving on, I discovered the delightful designs of Katie Stone, who brings a cuteness and whimsicality to her work. Leaping hares, inquisitive badgers, slithering snails and wandering foxes, among other creatures, hide behind locket doors and beneath moons and stars, while foraging birds leave footprints around silver bands. These designs cannot fail to paint a big beaming smile across one's face, and Katie's love of nature simply oozes out of every handcrafted piece of silver. Perfect for all of us who share her passion.

Similarly inspired by the natural world is Sonya Bennett, who, having established her first workshop in 1998, has become one of the UK's leading designers of contemporary precious jewellery. Drawing upon botanical and other natural forms, either observed first-hand or drawn from other sources such as 18th-century Japanese illustrations and Romantic and Pre-Raphaelite paintings, her collections include 'Ferns and Fritillaries', 'Harvest', 'Fox and Bluebells', 'Acorn' and the nautical-themed 'An Ode to Septimus'. My favourite is this Springtime pendant with golden bird - a year-round reminder of the freshness and beauty of this season of rebirth.

Kate Gilliland looks to the opposite end of nature's spectrum, and presents a dark yet beautiful study of death. She was instantly inspired by the claws of a female blackbird that she found lying on a path in Leicester during her time at university, and cleverly cast them in precious metal as a memorialisation of the bird's life. To find such beauty in death is a skill that few possess, as it requires us to think deeply about our own mortality, so I was especially impressed by Kate's ability not only to look beyond harsh realities, but to create such evocative pieces of jewellery that capture the fragility and miraculousness of life.

Alan Ardiff also seeks to convey this miraculousness, albeit through a very different design style - his work reminds us of the fun, frolics and motion of life. The pendants and earrings he creates feature a variety of motifs, including animals, flowers and hearts; some even contain little scenes, such as my favourite piece (I think!), the New Day pendant, pictured here. But his trademark is undoubtedly the kineticism he often adds to his designs - hares leap, butterflies dance and stars move across the heavens as the wearer turns her head from side to side.

I asked Alan where he draws his inspiration from. "Imagination is key," he replied. "Each person gets to enjoy my pieces from where they take them to in their imagination, and each New Day brings time for further dreaming - for me in the west of Ireland."

Some colour, next, as I arrived at the stand of Hazel Atkinson, whose work I have long admired - and whose earrings I often wear! Indeed, for bold, kaleidoscopic wearable art, one need look no further than Hazel's distinctive jewellery collections. She spent many years evolving and perfecting her technique of hand-printing and dying anodised aluminim to achieve the stunning results we see today, such as the new Royal Flush range in regal purple. "Fitting for a queen!" she enthused.

Continuing on the theme of anodisation, Prism Design works in titanium and has just unveiled its new Woodland Collection of necklaces and earrings, which feature feathers, butterflies, dragonflies and flowers in pulsatingly vivid hues of purple, blue, turquoise and yellow. These are colours that I rarely ever see in jewellery, and they really are spellbindingly magical.

Last, but by no means least, I of all people could not fail to be smitten by the moon designs I spotted at the show. Daisy London's sterling silver and gold vermeil Sun + Moon collection, inspired by the physical and emotional connections associated with these heavenly bodies, includes a rather mystical mother of pearl necklace, which is reversible (see photo at the start of this blog post).

Meanwhile, Muru's Talisman range features symbolic motifs to reflect one's beliefs and to provide empowerment. In the case of the moon designs, we're reminded of female power and intuition, and to always follow our hearts.

Place & Space: an exhibition

Just a quick note to highlight a wonderful exhibition that is currently showing at the Espacio Gallery in London's Shoreditch.

Place & Space features the work of Annie Hudson, which I discussed in a previous blog post, as well as that of several other artists inspired by the shifting landscape around us.

If you're in the area over the next few days, do stop by!

Llennyrch: a Celtic time capsule

Celtic rainforest.

Those were the words that leapt from the page and hugged my soul as I opened the Woodland Trust campaign mailer.

Within minutes, the supplied envelope was ready for the post box, with a cheque tucked safely inside. A humble donation towards a secure future for this most magical of woodlands - Llennyrch.

Rare, ancient, verdant, mysterious, enchanting, otherwordly; Llennyrch lies hidden at the bottom of a gorge in Snowdonia, Wales. It spans 100 acres and dates back to the last ice age, 10,000 years ago. What events it must have seen? What secrets it must hold? What magic must be contained within every tuft of moss, every twisting branch, every ripple of water, every dusk and dawn, and every bird's song?

I hope one day to be able to ask it...

Moments of magic

As we approach September, the early mornings are still warm but there is a freshness in the air that whispers autumn secrets.

Walking through the gardens below the castle on my way to work on Friday, the sky was pure azure blue behind the white stone of the towering keep and bridge, and the sun shone through the green leaves of the trees and ivy casting a hazy glow across my eyes.

 

Two white feathers floated overhead, and a dragonfly dived over my shoulder. One of those moments that was perfectly captured in words in the novel A Single Man by Christopher Isherwood:

 

“A few times in my life I’ve had moments of absolute clarity. When for a few brief seconds the silence drowns out the noise and I can feel rather than think, and things seem so sharp and the world seems so fresh. It’s as though it had all just come into existence.

 

“I can never make these moments last. I cling to them, but like everything, they fade. I have lived my life on these moments. They pull me back to the present, and I realise that everything is exactly the way it was meant to be.”

Do you have these moments?

Yorkshire haunts

Back home after a week of adventure, discovery and unforgettable moments in Yorkshire, and now I must try to keep the magic alive as we return to routine and all those mundane necessities of daily life that try their hardest to distract us.

We stayed in a small converted barn just outside the small town of Helmsley. I instantly bonded with the landscape that surrounded the building, and I already miss it. It had its own spirit, and a perfectly organised community of wildlife. The owl lived in the trees to the left. The rooks gathered in the tree to the rear during the day and migrated over to the trees to the right as dusk approached, squawking away until the sun vanished behind them. The bats lived at the farm, and at the same time each evening began to circle our barn, swooping past the front door and back again where moths gathered in the light. And what was that in the undergrowth..? One evening we saw the most beautiful sunset, with a double rainbow opposite, and on another occasion part of a halo around the sun.

During the week we explored 12th- and 13th-century abbey ruins at Roche, Fountains, Rievaulx, Byland and Whitby, walking in the footsteps of monks, Reformists and of course Bram Stoker, who drew inspiration from the latter site for his novel Dracula.

We visited regal estates such as Castle Howard, featured in both the television series and recent film of Brideshead Revisited; Brodsworth Hall (the interior of which is almost exactly as I imagine Miss Havisham's house to be in Great Expectations - minus the cobwebs and wedding feast!); and the atmospheric Nunnington Hall and its nearby All Saints church, which houses an effigy that rather disappointingly did not turn out to be of the legendary dragon-slayer Peter Loschy, as I had read prior to our pilgrimage.

We also found fossils under the cliffs at Staithes, and ate seaweed offered to us by a passing fisherman, and our mild fascination with the paranormal took us to two haunted pubs, the Malt Shovel at Oswaldkirk and the Golden Fleece in York. Alas, there was no welcome from beyond the grave!

By far the most magical experience, though, was Mother Shipton's cave. As we walked towards it through the moss and the twisted, grasping roots of the trees that make up the last remaining strip of the Royal Forest of Knaresborough - and some excellent modern-day sculptures that are in perfect harmony with their surroundings - with squirrels scuttling and fairies flitting in our peripheral vision, it became increasingly evident just how special a place this is.

Little wonder, then, that it produced such a visionary woman! Ursula Sontheil, or Mother Shipton as she came to be known, was born to a young single mother on a stormy night in 1488, in the dark cave at the end of this forest path, next to a waterfall that turns objects to stone, and she became a renowned prophetess, witch and wise woman.


My Oak King and I couldn't resist a second visit on our way home on the last day, after a final twilight outside the barn, where a golden waning moon emerged from a black dragon's mouth and a distant storm flickered on the horizon, while the bats circled and a meteor flamed above our heads.

Paths of discovery

A couple of weeks ago I embarked on a little tour around some of the artists' studios in Norwich, as part of the annual Norfolk & Norwich Open Studios initiative.

It's one of those things I seem to always miss - either I forget to check the dates and then discover it's been and gone for another year, or it coincides with some other event that has to take priority. Heritage Open Day is another classic <makes mental note to add to diary>. But this year, I succeeded in making an impressive 11 studio and gallery visits, and I'm so very glad I did.

First came a lunchtime stroll to the Fairhurst Gallery. I'd walked past the sign so many times, but never actually ventured down the little passageway between the buildings, under the bunting, to the entrance. Inside was a display of twisting, foreboding, knarled and evocative tree portraits in mixed media by Alex Egan, who had really captured their essence - not to mention the very reasons why trees are so special to me.

Next on the agenda was the Anteros Arts Foundation, alongside the King of Hearts cafe. It's a venue I know well having attended several talks there and it has the most wonderful atmosphere, so I was eager to explore the gallery space during this event. As it turned out, I was also able to meet one of the resident artists there - Annie Hudson, whose work was on display.

Cliff faces - somehow simultaneously smooth and textured - rose majestically from pastel seas, while others plunged downward like waterfalls; craggy crevices succumbed to coastal corrosion; sky merged with plant life, plant life with rock, and rock with sea. I absorbed it all with wide eyes, before wandering up the stairs to the studio, having failed to formulate any kind of constructive questions or conversation before reaching the door. Luckily, this proved to be no hindrance, and I enjoyed a thoroughly inspiring chat with Annie. I left the building feeling quite excited about life and its possibilities.

 

During the following week I viewed, among others, an exhibition of various artworks inspired by climate change at the Greenhouse Trust (a completely new discovery); a selection of paintings and ceramics at The Jade Tree and the Buddhist Centre; and a whole network of studio spaces at the Muspole Workshops, which housed printmaker Sally Hirst, painter Martin Laurance (whose postcards have made a perfect memento of my visit!), jewellery-maker Hazel Davison and intaglio and relief printmaker Martin Mitchell.

 

So, the moral of this story is: take every opportunity you are presented with to discover new things. You never know what you may find or how it may influence your life path!

 

www.anniehudson.co.uk

www.muspoleworkshops.co.uk

alexegan.co.uk

greenhousetrust.co.uk

www.thejadetree.co.uk/studios

 

Featured painting: Winter Trees by Annie Hudson

The spirit of the forest

Last weekend I felt the call of the forest – more specifically, a patch of Norfolk woodland that my Oak King and I had not visited for some time.

It’s a strange place. I can’t quite put my finger on the reason why, but it feels almost unreal. You know that curious sensation when you reflect on an especially vivid dream? That’s the sensation I have when I’m there. It’s not a bad feeling. Just strange.

Beginning at the church, and its huge ash with knarled, twisting trunk and carpet of bluebells below, we walked along the root-ridden path, past the random, ragged hand-sewn objects that hang from the branches – a spider on a web, a dreamcatcher, something that possibly used to be a dragonfly etc – and the groups of brightly painted totem poles that stand juxtaposed against the surrounding brown, grey and mossy trees.

Ferns were unfurling, bluebells gathered in patches of sunlight, and unblinking eyes peered out at us from the beech trunks.

Crossing the lane at the end and entering the younger Millennium Wood, the mood changes. The canopy is much lower, blossom swirls and fluffy seeds float up from fields of wildflowers. Crops in the adjoining field, just visible through the bracken, glow gold in the sunlight. Then the path plunges back into ancient woodland, down a slope riddled with claw-like roots, past a green pond, and into the freshness of the shade.

Felled trees are consumed by moss and returned to the earth; upturned stumps crawl with insect life; rabbit burrows punctuate the ground; and even the occasional fairy door can be found… if you know where to look.

Wending our way back to complete the circuit, we returned to the Millennium Woods. Past the 'swap box', which currently only contains one or two magazines and drapes of web (we really must put something in there next time), and onward along the path back to the lane.

At which point my Oak King took on my usual role of being over-inquisitive to the point of discovering something quite ghastly. On this occasion it was a squirrel’s tail, formed into a circle and hung from a branch. A warning perhaps? Or a magical charm? Or maybe just an unfortunate accident? I’d be interested to know if anyone else has seen such a thing!

 

Travelling with the Green Man

We're developing quite a collection of Green Men around our house - each with his own distinctive personality and mood.

I've long found myself drawn to him as a symbol surrounded by intrigue and magic, and simply as a representation of nature; his leafy face often providing a calming, comforting influence.

Now more than ever his role comes to the fore - according to Pagan tradition he falls in love with and wins the hand of the Maiden Goddess on May Eve. Their union is consumated, and, as the May King and May Queen, they become a symbol of sacred marriage and fertility - celebrated at the Beltane fire festival each year. As a personification of the abundance of Earth he also heralds the approaching harvest, with some fruit and vegetables already coming into season.

As is the case with many ancient Pagan symbols, the Green Man came to be adopted by the Christian church, and there are now many wonderful gargoyles, bench ends and bosses around the UK that feature his face, such as at Fountains Abbey and Norwich Cathedral.

The first Green Man to come into my life caught my eye in a shop close to Tintagel Castle in Cornwall (a most memorable day trip!). I love his pale leaves, friendly face and highlights of gold. He now watches over my desk and gives me inspiration.

The next (right) was spotted by my own Oak King for his cheeky expression. He has eyes that seem to follow you around the room, and move when caught in your peripheral vision!

My most recent verdant acquaintance was this determined-looking fellow (below), who called out to me on a visit to one of my most favourite shops - Inanna's Magical Gifts in Norwich. I had gone there specifically to buy something to cheer myself up during a difficult week, and perhaps to help guide me. Unsurprisingly I was drawn to leaves and the promise of growth and new beginnings (as affirmed by shop owner Naomi), and this chap's expression was just perfect - reassuring, yet full of plans!

The latter two Green Men come from a huge range made by Jane and Steve Whitehouse at Hedgerow Designs, which I especially love. They are available at Inanna's and many other shops across the country (see hdol.co.uk for stockists).

As William Anderson, author of Green Man: The Archetype of our Oneness with the Earth, correctly said: "The Green Man signifies irrepressible life. Once he has come into your awareness, you will find him speaking to you wherever you go."

Featured painting: Lammas by Amanda Clark

Welcome to May!

Despite the cooler temperature this week, there have been some beautiful mornings and evenings to cheer the soul.

I've particularly enjoyed my early morning walks to work, with sunlight streaming through the river-side willows, still in early growth, and increasing amounts of colour in the flowerbeds and hedgerows. On one occasion I even had a nonchalant magpie stomping through the grass alongside me, with the sun catching his iridescent wings.

Now is the time to live, love and look forward to the coming summer. If you're heading out on any May Day excursions or to Beltane celebrations this weekend, enjoy! And look out for another blog post soon - I think a focus on Green Man lore would be timely, and I feel some jewellery-related inspiration coming on!

Blodeuedd, goddess of the flowers

Spring has arrived, and as leaves begin to unfurl and early flowers bloom, I find myself put firmly in mind of Blodeuedd - surely one of the most enchanting of all characters in The Mabinogion.

And that's saying something; The Mabinogion is, after all, brimming over with enchantment! (Do hunt out a copy if you haven't already. As a 19th-century translation of folk tales rooted in pre-14th-century Welsh history, it's not the easiest book to read, but it's certainly one of the most spellbinding!)

Perhaps it is because this particular tale provides the reader (or listener, in oral tradition) with so many opportunities to use his or her imagination that makes it acutely memorable. We can immediately conjure up in our mind's eye our own image of this Welsh goddess, created from flowers of oak, broom and meadowsweet by magicians Math son of Mathonwy and Gwydion son of Don. Kaleidoscopic, blossoming, verdant, fragrant, beautiful, alluring.

We can feel the intensity and drama of the moment at which her husband, Lleu Llaw Gyffes, is tricked and murdered by her lover Gronw Pebr, Lord of Penllyn, and instantly transforms into an eagle, soaring away into the sky. We can then visualise in glorious technicolour the transformation of Blodeuedd into an owl by one of the very magicians who created her; a punishment for her betrayal.

"You will not dare to show your face in the light of day ever again, and that will be because of enmity between you and all other birds. It will be in their nature to harass you and despise you wherever they find you. And you will not lose your name - that will always be 'Bloddeuwedd' (Flower-face)," are the haunting words issued by an unapologetic Gwydion as he casts his spell.

I first discovered this most cinematic of stories deep in the damp, mist-shrouded Dyfi Valley in Wales - an area rich in Early Bronze Age history and holding many secrets locked away in its imposing mountains. Needless to say this added to its resonance for me! But do find the legend for yourselves, and see what meaning it holds for you...

Featured painting: Summer Breeze by Josephine Wall

Castle questing



Despite the April showers, my Oak King and I still managed to embark on a castle adventure this holiday weekend - and were even surprised by some spring sunshine as we moved deeper into Suffolk.

In Bungay, several daffodil fairy rings in the churchyard of St Mary's brought a smile to my face as we meandered through the town towards its castle ruin - one of two that we visited on this trip; both built by the powerful Bigod family, who played a key role in the Conquest of England in 1066.

Founded in around 1100 by Roger Bigod of Norfolk, the Norman castle was later briefly taken into the hands of King Henry II as a result of civil war involvement by Roger's son, Hugh. A sign of things to come, the castle continued to fall into and out of Bigod hands, being improved, besieged and restored along the way, until it was finally turned over to the Crown in 1297 and fell into disrepair.

The castle remained in a ruinous state throughout the ensuing centuries, with ownership passing between various dukes of Norfolk, until at last in 1934 Dr Leonard Cane, Town Reeve of Bungay, took charge of excavating and repairing the once prestigious landmark.


After coffee and lunch it was back in the car and on to Framlingham, where primroses decorated the grassy banks of the old castle moat, hawthorn was just beginning to bloom, life was returning to the knarled, twisted trees, and sunlight streamed through imposing battlements.

Yet another stronghold from the Bigod portfolio, Framlingham is a much larger and better preserved structure. Also built in the 12th century, it was the home of earls and dukes of Norfolk for 400 years, before passing to the Brotherton family, to the Mowbray family, and then to the Howard family during the 14th and 15th centuries - all rich and influential individuals.



Perhaps the castle's biggest claim to fame is that it was briefly owned by Mary Tudor, daughter of Henry VIII, during the 16th century. It was whilst inside the building that she discovered she had been proclaimed Queen of England - the country's first ruling lady.

Walking the battlements and then the moat with blue skies and drifting fluffy clouds overhead, and rooks calling and circling, it was easy to sense the many centuries of people and events past.

 

Wishing you all a beautiful and peaceful spring, full of discoveries!