Gaian Tarot Artist's Journal

Offering to the Queen of Summer

"Trapped in Paradise!"

Some faraway, online friends have recently asked me why we decided to move off the island.  "But you loved it so much," they say.  Yup, we did. 

Well, I could say it's because Craig's Pluto in Virgo is conjunct my own South Node.  An astrologer told me many years ago that he'll always be dropping bombs on my comfort zones . . . with the corollary, of course, of pushing me — kicking and screaming at times — towards growth and my destiny (North Node in Pisces in the 10th).

Or I could say that our decision to move last August coincided with the onset of Saturn in Virgo squaring my Moon in Taurus (translation:  complete restructuring of one's home life).  And that transit ends in May, when we'll be nice and settled in at Cedar Hills House.

But astrology, like Tarot, only points out the timing of opportunities and challenges in our lives.  It's up to us what we do with the bundle of energy that's available to us during those transits and progressions. 

Movin' on, movin' in . . .

All of our sorting, purging and packing is beginning to pay off.  We moved into a cycle of loading, unloading and unpacking boxes at Cedar Hills House (our new home) and doing a bit of nesting.   (Yes, all those boxes you see in the photo are the after-purge boxes!)   

Nora and I did a cleansing too, with a cauldron lit with native sage and a pocketful of island lavender for blessing.   We cleansed and blessed each doorway and window and room in the entire house, releasing the old and bringing in the new.  We especially blessed Craig and his hard work (he has turned the master bedroom into a righteous studio for me, with new paint and wooden floors.)  We ended our ceremony on the back deck (which you can see through the French doors), in front of Grandmother Cedar, undoubtedly the guardian spirit of this home.   She seemed pretty happy that we were moving in and was definitely pleased with the offerings of sage smoke and dried lavender. 

We'll be moving the furniture next week or the week after.  So, for now, we are between and betwixt, neither here nor there, or rather both at once.  Blessed be!

The Fabled Land of Now

(Postcard from my parents' honeymoon, 1948)

We are in between winter and spring here on my little island.  We have nothing like the piles of snow at Cate's place, or at my grandbaby Grace's house in Maine.  Here the mornings have been bringing us frost as thick as fur that melts by mid morning.

I step outside and think, "It smells like spring!" — that rich, fecund, earthy smell.  Is it the earthworms stirring things up in the soil that makes everything smell so . . . alive?   My neighbor Colleen and I walk in the bright sunshine by the bay, alternately taking our jackets off and putting them back on.  The red-flowering currant (one of the first native plants to bloom each spring) is in fine, fine form.  We spot the white heads of two bald eagles roosting in their favorite Doug fir out on the point.  Sister Great Blue Heron wades in the shallows.   Five black cormorants stand on old pier pilings, spreading their wings to dry.   Sunlight sparkles on pale blue water and I sigh with the deep satisfaction of such sheer beauty.

I notice a thought flit by:  "Shouldn't you be sad that you'll be leaving this so soon?" — followed by another:  "No, I think I'm done with that drama . . ." and I come into Presence, as Eckhart Tolle would say (or is that Wendell Berry?).

A Winter Retreat

My days here in Maine have taken on a pattern, a pattern of service to my family and of spiritual retreat.  I've been influenced, no doubt, by rereading the section on India in Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love. But just as Liz scrubbed the ashram floors each day with grace and goodwill, so do I gladly serve my family. 

Star of Wonder

Beth Owlsdaughter has a lovely post about the Halcyon Days. (So does Waverly!) These are the days before and after Winter Solstice when winds and waves stay calm so that Mother Kingfisher can breed in a nest that floats upon the sea.  It's become a phrase that describes a time of idyllic warmth, happiness and peace that's over before we know it, that we long for through a haze of nostalgia.  (Of course kingfishers don't really lay their eggs upon the water, but they do build their nests in cliffs and bluffs nearby, so I guess there's a bit of natural history to the myth.)

If I were Empress of the World, I'd institute the Halcyon Days every December.  I'd proclaim that during the week before and the week after Winter Solstice, no one is encouraged to do "regular" work or "normal" activities.  Instead, the time would be spent partly in self-reflection, musing on the year gone by and the year to come.  The rest of the time, we'd gather with family and tribe, in small groups and large, to revel and rejoice, make music and tell stories, and drive the dark away.   (Hecate has a great post about why we need to do this at Winter Solstice.)

But alas, such is not to be in our modern lives. Instead, we have Halcyon Moments and Halcyon Evenings and — if we're lucky — Halcyon Weekends.

Gifts of Song, Story & Art (Recycled!)

In the spirit of "Modern Magick: Reduce - Reuse - Recycle!" — I thought I'd offer you a few gifts from Yuletide seasons past. 

At our Santa Lucia party Saturday night, Craig brought down the house with his rendition of "In the Bleak Midwinter" with his revised Gaian lyrics.  I posted a link last year to an MP3 file of the song, and here it is again.  We hope it blesses your heart.

About a thousand years ago (okay, only 7 or 8 years ago, but it seems much longer) . . . I designed some free Solstice ecards, which have been very popular on my old website.  The JPC Artworks site is in dire need of an overhaul; I haven't posted anything new on it for years.  But the Solstice ecards?  They're holding up pretty well.  Please visit and enjoy.

Then there's an article I wrote, The Magical Giftbringers of Yule:  St. Lucia and the Holly King, which was published in PanGaia magazine back in the Winter 2000/2001 issue.   I'm still quite fond of this article and hope it illuminates the season for you. 

We walk between the worlds during the season of Yuletide, especially during the Thirteen Nights of Solstice. If we keep our senses sharp and our imaginations lively, we may encounter many strange and wonderful beings during this liminal time instead of a tired old department store Santa . . . (keep reading . . .)

Cheers!

Artwork: Holly King by Joanna Powell Colbert

Season of Solitude, Season of Community

The terrible Northwest storm pretty much passed us by.  It was devastating to the south of us.  But, as Sister Kim Mermaid says, it was pretty much an average NW storm for us.  I was grateful that we didn't lose power.  (I was sooo prepared for it!) 

While the storm was raging outside, I was alternately fighting off a cold/flu while decluttering and deep cleaning in preparation for our annual Santa Lucia Party this coming weekend. The first wave of mermaid sisters and brothers arrive tomorrow and the second wave on Friday.  They'll help us decorate and prep the food and we'll help each other learn our lines — those of us who will be Numinous Beings during the party.  We'll have around 50 or 60 guests here on Saturday night.  Last year the Giftbringer was a big surprise — it was Mother Star Stupendous Mermaid!  I'm not sure she'll make it this year.  It would be hard to top last year's appearance.  But whoever comes, she or he will indeed be wonderful.

This will be the 8th and last Lucia Party at Heron House.  My deepest appreciation goes to Helen Farias, who began these parties back in the 80's as a way to honor a female Giftbringer (Lucia). Helen taught me so much about creating spectacular, dramatic parties.  We are still carrying on some of the traditions she started.

The deepest gifts of this season, I think, are the twin companions of Solitude and Community.  Let's make room for silence and solitude during these frenzied days, as Mama Gaia would have us do.  And let's gather together to celebrate with our chosen tribe and families, and turn the Wheel once more.

(Photograph from our 2000 Lucia Party by Paul Bingman.)

Sailing to the Western Isles

I went out sailing yesterday afternoon with the neighbors . . . catching the last bit of summer warmth before the Day of Balance on the 23rd.  Then the dark will truly descend.  But for now, on one last radiant evening, we were graced by Dust of Golden Sun and kissed by sweet young Maiden Moon.

New Moon Tarot Reading (a new spread)

(Warning:  long post ahead)

Last weekend while I was working on the Guardian of Air, I listened to some back episodes of the Tarot Connection podcast.   My favorites were the interviews with my friend James Wells (who recently visited my little island). He spoke on The Art of the Powerful Question and Energizing the Tarot Session.  I was also thinking about the upcoming New Moon and found myself jotting down notes as I worked on the art and listened to the podcasts.