Sometimes She Sank, Sometimes She Swam

For long and long have I been captivated by the murder ballad of The Miller and the King's Daughter. There are many and more names this story goes by; The Twa Sisters, The Wind and Rain, The Cruel Sister, The Bonny Swans, and on. It is first known to have surfaced in 1656 and over time and geography has many varied versions. Passion crime, wicked siblings, impossible enchantments...the perfect story to share on a day celebrating Irish heritage!


A jealous elder sibling drowns her fair young sister over the want of a man, allowing her to wash away down the river. Her body, water-borne, seems to be a dead swan upon the current. She is found and transformed into an enchanted harp, which sings of a sister's treachery.


I believe the first I heard of this song was a version by Clannad, but I am not certain it wasn't the Jerry Garcia Band which introduced me to the tale. There are so many artists who have performed one of the traditional versions, but some have re-written the themes into their own version, which is what I share today from Loreena McKennitt. This video is glorious; rich with medieval and fairytale imagery, and Loreena's haunting voice.





So here I present my Steampunk assemblage interpretation of a tragic tale, but one full of magic and gorgeous imagery.

Steampunk Fairytale Bonny Swan Necklace, by Mermaiden Creations

Weaving Words for Wednesday

                                            Steampunk Pink Spun Spider Collar

Weaver of beauty, designing the day
With splashes of lavender, shading to blue,
How lovely the pattern your fingers portray;
You weave with perfection the color and hue,
With corals you fashion the tint of the dawn
And stars lose the luster that silvered the night;
With amber you jewel the dew on the lawn,
Your shuttles are flashes of radiant light,
You brighten with opals the rain in the air,
While boisterous winds toss the warp on your loom;
At evening you spangle the heavenly stair
And crimson the shadows that enter my room.
I love you, Weaver, designer of art,
For tapestries hung on the walls of my heart.

~Unidentified poet, included in Golden Bridle Poetry Patterns

 

The Snow Moon

The full moon tonight is a SuperMoon. I have visions of Luna wearing a sparkling silver cape and brandishing a starlit bow and arrow, but in actually it is a scientific phase and not of the Marvel universe.

The Moon is at its perigee, when it is closest to the Earth during its monthly orbit. It appears about 14% bigger, and because it is also at its fullest, it appears *really* big. Super, actually.

I pay homage to Lady Luna with these pieces inspired by the FAE team Monthly Dare. February is known as the Snow Moon, one name amongst many, but I chose to reflect on this name because the effect of the full moon at its perigee shining over all the snow that has fallen this winter must be an utterly dazzling sight.

May I present Snowy Moonlight Earrings, and Moonlight Faery Ballroom Necklace.

Roses For You

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

~ee cummings

In Celebration of Wolfsong

Howling at the backside of the January moon, the Wolf Moon as it gathers into itself and yields to the next fullness, there is more tribute to be paid from the Fantasy Artists of Etsy. So with a wolfish grin, of course, may I present three very different interpretations, fascinating in their representations of legend, mythology, and spirituality.

Wolf Hunter Chain Maille Necklace by Athena's Armoury has a distinctive blending of European and Native American talismanic qualities. Deeper meanings lie hidden in the piece and old ways of living with the land and its inhabitants are revealed.

Star Stretch by Aquariann reverts to ancient connections with the gods; a respect for the power and strength of the animal, the reverent associations people made between nature and deities associated with the wolf.

She Offered Her Throat by Mermaiden Creations (that'd be me) is a sharing of a macabre Victorian story: 

Weary of words, of the needle and tame tea, she heard the howl and followed the call out into the Wildwood, under the exposed throb of the full moon.
Casting aside lace and pearl she offered her throat where Fear resides, to fang and fur and moonsong.
And apparently, it was delicious.


*edit to original post*
I was reminded of a song by Meatloaf which could have been the inspiration for this necklace (and maybe it was, in part, buried in my high school unconscious memories- thank you Renate of Stregata fame!)

On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?
Will he offer me his mouth? Yes! Will he offer me his teeth? Yes!
Will he offer me his jaws? Yes! Will he offer me his hunger? Yes!
Again, will he offer me his hunger? Yes! And will he starve without me? Yes!
And does he love me? Yes!
Yes! On a hot summer night would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?
Yes! I bet you say that to all the boys.

The Wolf Moon, The Old Moon

The ever-inspiring Fantasy Artists of Etsy are my fellow FAE collaborators in the first of this year's monthly challenges, based on lunar appellation; Moon Names. A call to conjure and create! January is known as the Wolf Moon, and the Old Moon.

The Wolf Moon moniker is obvious; with chilling intensity the pack howls outside the walls of skin, of wood, of stone in the long cold nights, perhaps ever louder as the Moon waxes.

But what of the epithet of Old Moon? In my wanderings I couldn't find any reasons why the first moon of the calendar should be nicknamed so. Certainly the Moon IS old, like 4.6 billion years old. But the peoples who made the designation most likely didn't base their decision on a such a concept.

What did ring true for me has to do with Earthshine. Reflected sunlight illuminates the Moon's night side so that along with the full bright of the crescent, a pale glow of the remaining surface is visible. This phenomenon (thank you Mr. DaVinci for pointing it out) has come to be called the old Moon in the new Moon's arms. And indeed, it is as if the crescent is a cradling arm in the darkness.

So was Ella Wheeler Wilcox, an American Victorian poet, inspired by Earthshine in her poem "The Old Moon in the New Moon's Arms":

The beautiful and slender young New Moon,
In trailing robes of pink and palest blue,
Swept close to Venus, and breathed low: 'A boon,
A precious boon, I ask, dear friend, of you.'

'O queen of light and beauty, you have known
The pangs of love - its passions and alarms;
Then grant me this one favour, let my own -
My lost Old Moon be once more in my arms.'

Swift thro' the vapours and the golden mist -
The Full Moon's shadowy shape shone on the night,
The New Moon reached out clasping arms and kissed
Her phantom lover in the whole world's sight.

AND so, gartered and girded with my musings, may you be presented with a few of the creative offerings from the FAE team.

Mother Moon at Dawn, by ErtheFae

Snow White Wolves Dance Around the New Old Winter Moon in Blue January Midnight, by Carapace

Crocheted Wolf Ears by MeriGreenleaf

Talisman of Minas Ithil, Tower of the Moon, by MermaidenCreations

Hansel and Gretel Would Be Pagans

The off-beat creative bug had me itching to make something unusual for our annual pilgrimage to the Aunties’ house for Xmas this year. In addition to my usual concoctions of macaroni and cheese and homemade bread rolls shaped in a wreath, I was bent on making masses of sweeties. I was hearing my great Aunt whispering in my ear, coaxing me to make spritz cookies like she did all her life. So I added some real orange extract, sprinkled a variety of sanding sugar colors including black, and voila- delicate and delicious bouquet of flowers. I moved on to toffee, and peanut brittle, pretzels dipped in chocolate and rolled in peanuts, and creamsicle blondies, which I am still craving. Then came the gingerbread cookies. I found a fabulous recipe, wherein the cookies actually taste good and are not for calcifying on your tree. Sorting through the abundance of cutting shapes, I was drawn to my Halloween forms and knew I had to bring on the Yule-ness to the table at this get together. I grabbed the skulls, the owls, the brooms. And of course the witch hats. I did toss in a few trees, swans, doves, stars and moons, some trains and candy canes for the kids. My oldest son figured out how to make a pentacle, and he was delighted with his creation.

I decided Day of the Dead decorations on the skulls would be perfect, and the gingerbread lasses would have to be witches. Out came the neon variety of food coloring, which has the best tints, and royal icing became a wild palette of utterly non-traditional hues. We were up for hours decorating after the baking was finally done. I was cackling at the irreverence of it all, at the delightful mix of weirdness. Certainly a season to remember for us at home. However, not one person at the gathering on the 25^th said one single word about the unusual offerings, except that they actually tasted good. Were they whispering behind me back? Don’t know. Don’t care. We have a new tradition :D