Welcome to a world of dreamings… a world of magic and mystery… a world of runes and roses… an Otherworld located deep within the inner and outer landscapes of the soul.
A song of joy rings out in Tewkesbury.
A pilgrimage of the heart coming home.
I dreamed this blue full flower moon before it began.
I've had adventures on many Iron Age Hill forts, sat on top of Bronze Age burial mounds which really have felt like gateways to the Otherworlds.
We really felt like three muses, three goddesses, or perhaps a manifestation of the triple goddess herself, as we danced together laughing, twisting, and turning.
Transfixed by this heady scene, I moved slowly around the vault in an almost trance like state.
The serpent will come from the hole
On the brown Day of Bríde,
Though there should be three feet of snow
On the flat surface of the ground.
You can take the girl out of Pompey, but you can't take Pompey out of the girl.
For me, the rose conjures images of Tristan and Iseult in secret trysts in the walled garden on top of Tintagel under a new moon…The rose, a flower of myth, and legend. A flower of the gods. A flower of nobility. A flower of love. A flower for everyone.
I see the cup as my Holy Grail, my Golden Chalice, taking me on a journey of discovery through the Sussex landscape of ancient Downland, and the ancient forest of the High Weald, Coed Andred, (Ashdown Forest)
I’ve learned to reconnect with the land. Through my own practice, and through land based workshops… I observe and listen how the land reveals its stories and myths. I can see how my personal experience and interpretation of the Otherworld overlaps with the idea of mundus imaginalis.
Vigeland Sculpture Park, Oslo,
The wheel of life.…the wheel of love