She walks…

She walks…

by | Jan 25, 2024 | Sacred

From the stars, on a mountain, with the bears, my beads…and paint.

Wise Woman. Where has she been? Can you hear her? Her shuffling bent feet, the smoothed walking stick, her robes shifting. She’s easier for me to hear in the winter. The snow quiets the whole world. The animals rest and eat and sleep and create offspring. The water rushes around but muffled underneath the ice. One tree doesn’t lose its leaves until the new ones pop in the spring. Those are the only leaves I hear in winter, a dry rustling sound, a secret message, calling the deer to come and chew on nutritious bark. Nature knows. She knows.

Wise woman is not about power-over or hierarchy, she’s in collaboration with. We don’t even know her name. The snow, her cloak, also makes connections. At night, the coyotes off in the distance give me shivers. I hear them more clearly in the cold somehow. Maybe science would tell me their sound waves bounce off the tiny icy snow particles. Light sparkles the perfect snowflakes to catch my attention, the stars are the same. Moonshadows on the snow connect me to the cosmos just by looking out my window from my pillow. With one glance I’m in two places at once. Those are her songs. If you’re quiet, you can hear her.

If you are ever interested in a print of my art head to my store which you’ll see up in the menu. 

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I love you all!

Pentimento…

Pentimento…

by | Jan 22, 2024 | Sacred

From the stars, on a mountain, with the bears, my beads…and paint.

PENTIMENTO: noun. a visible trace of earlier painting beneath a layer or layers of paint on a canvas.

I saw that word and it perked my attention. It has to do with art but I’m thinking it has to do with life. 

The image above is a Visual Medicine image of mine on top. The bottom is a photo of cave art from Australia of  MIMI Spirits.

“a visible trace of earlier…” as soon as I pulled that painting off the sheet it was drying on and turned it over (this is a back) I saw these people, walking across the stone wall. My friend Shea Settimi was the one who knew about and identified the Mimi Spirit art, shown below my art. This is about time and layers and how our lives are all woven on top of underneath between and within. 

I am because my MotherFatherGreatgrandmotherYougettheidea is/was, right? We humans are our experiences, our DNA, our ancestors, the land we live on, the plants/creatures we eat, the stories we tell.

This weaving fascinates me. YOU are part of it too if you are reading this. Many incredible people humans creatures clouds paints went into my self to make me who I am now. I think that will change by noon today, depending on who writes, what art I see, the music I hear, etc.

We are social creatures. Pentimento is why I feel collaborations are thrilling. Intentionally creating layers of contribution with other humans evolves all of us, lights up those who crave it and makes everything rich.

Who or what are you collaborating with?

If you are ever interested in a print of my art head to my store. You’ll find it all there. 

And if you want to follow my hijinx, sign up for my newsletter at the bottom of any page here on my site.

The ankh = LIFE

The ankh = LIFE

by | Jan 10, 2024 | Sacred

From the stars, on a mountain, with the bears, my beads…and paint.

The ankh. I don’t know much of the intelligence behind it but I sure do love icons/symbols. From my reading I learn that the ankh means LIFE. This rosary is on her way to way out west. I made it with knotted cord which makes the rosary very flexible and soft in your hands. The itty bitty knots are fussy and my hurting hand has to do these bit by bit but the pretty knots are so worth it. If you’re inspired to have your own rosary or mala, send me a message at azro@madriver. Did you know this is filled with M A G I C ?

Circles and Cycles

Circles and Cycles

by | Jan 4, 2024 | Sacred

From the stars, on a mountain, with the bears, my beads…and paint.

Circles and Cycles

I belong to a feral rosary group on Facebook called The Way of the Rose. That’s also the title of their book which I highly recommend. Below is a piece I wrote for the group:

Happy new year! Or happy 11th day after the solstice which is a bigger deal in my family.
If you lived in my mind you’d literally see time as shapes around you. I have synesthesia which comes in many forms. Simply put, a glitch in the connections in my brain, in many brains. You can look it up to see if you relate because I didn’t know I was not “normal” until way into my adulthood. I see time as multiple shapes that create one big orb.
I move around this orb. It doesn’t move around me, as if I were the sun so I find myself in different places in space as the year goes around. I don’t know about you but I always seem to pivot around certain events in the year.
As a child my birthday was a pretty important pivot point. As a young adult a soul dog of mine died on July 8th. The general feeling of that time of year, long days, busy birds chattering, warm humid air would alert me that the day she died was nearby.
After my Dad died unexpectedly on a December 29th my days circled around that horrible date. For several years my entire existence rotated sadly around that day as a sort of dark hub in my universe.
At 58 I’ve accumulated enough of those dates that center my world and they’re scattered around that orb enough that it’s all just become a circle again. Time passes so fast now, these dates speed around and around.
As the heart-wrenching dates are less important simply because of their number, the cycles in the natural world around me have become more important. I think watching climate change is so hard because I used to be able to rely on the land’s events to keep me steady. Mid summer of Vermont starts at about 4am, when the birds are still busy with their family-making work, that’s when my soul-dog died. That day, the start of July was hot and humid. It might be chilly here now. My son’s birthday, which 18 years ago meant I was on the highway every single day on the way to the NICU, the leaves speeding by in New England’s classic maple colors, fire-yellow, orange, red. This year, our leaves shifted straight out of green into muted browns. The snow we revel in at the holidays, this year was a literal flood, the second 100 year flood this year, water galore. If I can’t rely on the land around me to mark my circles around the sun, I will have to give Her my angst and my body’s seasonal confusion.
Making rosaries, praying rosaries, or simply just carrying them in my pocket gives me ease. Round and round I go, sometimes counting and sometimes just a pleading string of Hail Mary Hail Mary Hail Mary. That’s really all I need. We have the seasons of these novenas, my many heart’s desires, the miracles that She brings, those are my rocks nowadays. Nothing else abides by the rules anymore. Vermont has the wrong birds, the weather is wrong, but She is with me and I am thankful.
Liminal Spaces

Liminal Spaces

by | Dec 13, 2023 | Sacred

From the stars, on a mountain, with the bears, my beads…and paint.

Liminal spaces.
The word space to me implies a spot, a location, a place. I’m reminded of the work Janet Conner and I have been doing with the labyrinth. If there is an actual liminal space, the center of the labyrinth is the perfect example.
Before we walk the labyrinth we draw our labyrinth. The magic begins with a seed pattern, simple angles and dots. We create our labyrinth with our “other” non-dominant hand and in the creation, the angles become circles. We’ve taken our square, organized, linear gotta-know seed pattern and turned it into a maze of circles.
When I walk the labyrinth I usually have a purpose. Am I looking for an answer?, usually. Am I wanting to meet an ally?, probably. That labyrinth walk can feel a bit lonely at times, so I call in my dead. Who will join me today? Anyone want to put on your shoes and walk with me? Will you hold my hand please? Someone always show up. Sometimes I have no purpose and walk the labyrinth with eyes of mystery, I call them my gypsy eyes, just wondering, what will be revealed, is there a message for me.
While walking toward the center things quiet. I remember I am breathing. The to-do list is put on the back-burner. Being in my imaginal realm I consider my footsteps. Am I walking upon yellow leaves, or sand? The concentric circles of the path get larger and smaller. Where am I? I have no idea, but I do know I’m not alone. She is with me. Creatures are with me. I can smell the moss that’s with me. Inevitably there’s a cat with me.
Once I arrive at the center I realize there are walls of earth and stone, seeds, water and usually a special raven. I’m not afraid, I’ve been here before. Any way I turn I’m surrounded, held, and safe. Then I look up. Up there is wide open deep indigo sky and millions of sparkling stars. Possibility. Mystery. So much time. No time. Every time. All time at once.
I am suspended like a tiny seed in this round space. It’s a very feminine spot. My instincts tell me this must be Her womb. The gestation chamber of the earth. Everything starts and stops right here. Everyone is born here and this is where we go when we die. The portal to e v e r y t h i n g.
The first time I met the labyrinth I was in a tomb in a dream in Sardinia. Womb to tomb. Womb to tomb.
Waiting, I look around. In reality, I am alone, and I am also surrounded by my ancestors and descendants, the plants that have fed me, the creatures who allowed me to look into their eyes, the rocks I carried down the path, the water that sustains me. My mind wanders until it is still. I drink in this stillness. Can I be filled with nothing? I want to bring enough stillness from this place with me so I can remember. I know after I emerge from the labyrinth, busy-ness reigns, but this still circular space that started as a square will care for me. This is how I care for myself. I remember.
It is time to retrace my steps and walk back out. I’m not sad to leave. I’m full, satisfied, and ready. And I know I will be back.

Take a nap…

Take a nap…

by | Dec 9, 2023 | Sacred

From the stars, on a mountain, with the bears, my beads…and paint.

If you’re feeling like taking a nap every 20 minutes, you’re not alone. Go easy. Looking out into the world is hard right now. If/when it feels overwhelming, do something that makes you feel ok, or at least neutral. Honestly, (shhhh, not proud of this) cleaning helps me. I pray. Don’t forget you can pray to the bears in the woods or the plants in your garden or a dead you admire. Settle in and let it come to you what your heart really wants and ask. Just ask for it. We will get thru this. Or we won’t. But we will be together. Sending you all my love.