Read MoreWhen the summer is bursting through in all its fine greenery, and traditional May Day festival rites are kept to welcome in the luscious fertility of this time, I am keeping a lament, for this is the time that I gave birth to death instead of new life
Walking amongst the old tombstones of ancient Sussex churches, primroses, yellow and purple magnolia blossoms blooming in the Spring sunlight, I am a sacred fool talking to the dead
Read MoreRead MoreThe practice of Utiseta is an old Norse tradition. The wise women, the seers, would sit out on the burial mounds of their ancestors or that of a wise leader, to seek knowledge and to gain answers.
The alchemy, the alchemy, the alchemy of lime. Black smoke, red fire, white slaked chalk.
Read MoreRead MoreI dreamed this blue full flower moon before it began.
