May Day @ MindSay

May is here - Time for lots of flowers to start to bloom!

May's flower is the lily of the valley, a beautiful and tiny flowered perennial ground cover with a heavenly perfume. Sadly it's a later spring flower that's all but forgotten come the heat of summer! Still their short, sweet visit is well worth saving a shady corner of the garden to plant them in! Ours greet us at the front door and when they're in full bloom around the middle to the end of May, we enjoy their beauty and fragrance while they last.


Lily of the valley grows along the walkway leading to our front door, greeting visitors and family with a pretty sight and a heavenly perfume!


This is a lovely macro shot of a young flower stem, the green tones
in the shot seem soft and cool, creating a gentle mood.

 My grandmother was born in May and always grew them in her gardens. My daughter was also born in May and since she was about 6 years old I've been growing them to carry on the tradition, transplanting them to wherever we were living at the time until finally planting them at her very own house years later!

We featured them in my daughter's wedding as well - they made beautiful bouquets.
 

        White Roses and Lily of the Valley made a gorgeous bouquet!

(While it was raining and still too cool to work in the garden I used the time to scan some of the photographs from Sue's wedding day, 5 years ago.  This is a very close view so the resolution isn't perfect but the soft edges give the image a nice touch! A great project for me on rainy days!)
 



The bridesmaids bouquets were simple and sweet.
(the little flower girl is Sue's best friend's daughter, Nya)

I'm just going to take a deep breath and post all of the photos from our May Day/Beltaine. So you are warned...

14 photos.



Here was our little May-Pole with Savannah and I decorating it.


My bleeding hearts are in bloom.




Josh's new Schwinn.










Our little notes that we wrote for bringing more passion into a relationship or attracting a love.


The May Pole afterwards.


Leif working on his note.


I let Savannah play with the May Pole afterwards.


The Ginger cookies I made for the special day.




So was that too much? Too many pictures? I have more pictures tomorrow but I'll break that one up into two days worth. It should make it a little easier.

In the dark spring skies

reflections of the branches

dance over me in a prickly hug

my hair entangled

the woods catching me

as I walk

green buds giggling at me

the crunch of my boots on old grass

giving way to the moist ones coming

going away the brittle brown

yet still they reach

 

this is how it was at home today

I am the priestess of this place

 

reaching for signs of summer

but still too dank and cold

memories of ice heavy on the brow

the white was here not long ago

evidence is in the creek bed

a steady stream of blackened water

gurgling with frogs and toads

squirrels dart along side me

and I wonder where the deer are

 

somewhere my people are playing the drum

somewhere there is a fire burning

somewhere my lover is leaping

and I am not forgotten

 

the first flower I saw:

brilliant purple iris

a golden and white star

inside

peeking at me

stung my eyes

not yet adjusted to light

 

I'm not really alone, and yet I am the lone witch in these woods

I am the woman you'd see haunting the cemetery

but this place is alive and growing

the only stones here line the creek

the only ghosts the fallen trees

but even they provide life

I can spy the mice in the shelter 

 

I am still hugging the shadows

enjoying the chill

curled up to pillow

deep in bed

sucking in the water

waiting for the sun

sleeping not dead 

 

I share this with you tonight. 

Reaching outward like a branch does. 

My fingertips upward beginnings to bud. 

I feel grown green inside.

Like the migraine I had yesterday

was only a sign I'm sprouting horns.

   The creek's edge will soon be lined with bugs.

My arms itch after that thought. 

 

Will you be here,

next time 

to hold my hand 

when I walk?

 

Or

will we

link arms

like sisters

do?

 

and skip!

 

 

Happy May Day!

 

This week has been nothing short of exhausting. I have way too much homework to actually enjoy anything, let alone update on my life. I have to write 60 pages worth of Literature Journal Entries by May 7. Yeah, that's already beginning to kick my ass. Here is what I still have to write Three Pages EACH about...

1. Daisy Miller (finished)
2. The Private History of A Campaign That Failed (finished)
3. A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court (finished)
4. The Yellow Wallpaper (in progress)
5. A Pair of Silk Stockings
6. A White Heron
7. The Awakening
8. Sister Carrie
9. The Call of The Wild
10. White Fang
11. To Build a Fire
12. The Occurence at Owl Creek
13. Ethan Frome
14. Bernice Bobs Her Hair
15. The Egg
16. Hills Like White Elephants
17. Pauls Case
18. The Killers
19. A Rose For Emily
20. Fight Club

There is no time for rest. Rest is for the weak. Finals will be Final. Man, I already need another break and it's raining outside...but if I don't I'm about to go just as insane as the woman in "yellow wallpaper"....

 

 

Tschuess!

Today is yet another fire festival, the first of May, a time to light the bonfires to welcome home the Sun, to bring prosperity to the crops, and "get it on" with your loved ones.  Yet, poor me, I have no place to light an actual bonfire and, besides, I'm not the kind of Pagan who really likes huge gatherings and I don't have any lovers at this time.  The next best thing is to "nurture the fire within" -- to kick up the sparks of my imagination and draw from my dreams and invite the Gods to speak through the images I create.  I'm an artist, after all, it is my livelihood now, and I'm far from pastoral, but we can take what our ancestors did and create rites customized to our modern lives.  Each holy day brings me closer to the Source while still keeping my feet firmly planted in the reality of Now.

 

So, today I'm letting my fingers dance around the Maypole that is a pencil.  I'm drawing without a plan, the important thing is to just draw, to write, to make busy buzzing bee-like music (humming) as I merrily pursue the joy of the act of Creation.  The Gods must've felt like this while they were making the world.  That's how we are like them, are a part of them; we create from our dreams.

 

I took a look back at what I did last Beltaine -- that marked the day I first started making Blog Themes for Mindsay users -- how much of a blessing is that?  Go look at the Pick a Theme page and you'll feel my touch. So, this is sort of an anniversary; one year later and Mindsay is even cooler now that even more people have discovered how to do what I love to do -- CREATE. DESIGN. IMAGINE!

 

This is also a day I remember to have nice conversations with one of my most important patron Gods, Lugh.  Now, I'm not Irish and I do not practice the Druid ways, but I do revere this Celtic God.  My old friend, Andrew, used to pick on me for my close relationship with this God.  He would say, "Val, since you worship Lugh so much, you should just be a Druid already."  For years he bugged me to become his student, but I refused.  I appreciated his offer, but he just didn't understand what a joy it is to have the freedom to worship as I please.  I don't need to be a Druid to revere a traditionally Celtic God.  Besides, he probably doesn't know Lugh like I do anyway -- not that I'm saying one relationship is better than the other.  That should show you that one Pagan is not always like another; we are all different in the way we relate to the Gods, that's why there are so many religions!

 

Lugh (earlier Lug, modern Irish Lú, pronounced /luː/) is an Irish deity represented in mythological texts as a hero and High King of the distant past. He is known by the epithets Lámfhada ("long hand"), for his skill with a spear or sling, Samildánach ("multi-talented", "skilled in many arts"), Lonnbeimnech ("fierce striker") and Macnia ("boy hero"), and by the matronymic mac Ethlenn or mac Ethnenn ("son of Ethliu or Ethniu"). He is a reflex of the pan-Celtic god Lugus, and his Welsh counterpart is Lleu Llaw Gyffes.

 

Now that I've plugged his name in my blog, feel free to look up more about him online.  But, to me, Lugh is more than just some kind of mythic hero; for me he is the lightning flash of ideas, the quick reflex to do something clever that comes to me after practicing and honing a talent into a skill, and he provides me opportunities to masterfully make and create beautiful things.  He is also the feeling of falling in love we all get when we listen to a song that hits us in the heart.  Lugh is the tears we shed when we are moved by any work of art, be it a performance or a painting that does more than just be pretty.  He is the fire I nurture within me.

 

Thank you, Lugh, for helping me become a better artist.  Help me to develop my talents further.  Help me to create beautiful images that reach beyond even my own expectations.  Help me to know that I am worthy of Your love.  Send blessings of ideas and dreams to my loved ones.  May we all get in touch with the fire that is You shining within us all.  And thank you for the blessings I bring to others through my art.  So mote it be!