Lunaea Weatherstone's Blogue

New Goddess Rosaries!

It's been much too long since my last update of Goddess rosary necklaces, though I've been making custom ones on an individual basis. I'm so happy to be able to share these new offerings with you. Many thanks to my wonderful niece Kaili, of K. Renno Photography, for the lovely photographs! Click here to be taken to the rosary page, and thank you for looking!

Patricia Monaghan

Joanna Powell Colbert has posted a lovely tribute to Patricia here. I will just add my prayer for her passing:

The blessings of Brigid be about you,
on your going out,
and on your coming in,
in the name of She who blesses each doorway,
in the name of She who calms the waves,
in the name of She who brings us safely home.

 

Election eve prayer

Goddess, on this election eve, I offer my prayer:

May women remember their foremothers who fought to control their own destiny, and use their vote to preserve those hard-won rights. May they gaze upon their own beloved children, and vote to help other mothers’ children who are in need. May they be proud of their accomplishments, and vote for those who would honor women’s accomplishments with justice and equality.

May men be guided by the spirit of the Green Man, and vote for those who will protect this precious Earth and its creatures. May they hear the voices of their forefathers lost to war, and vote for those who would seek peace. May they stand tall in their own truth, and vote for those who also speak the truth.

May those who have known illness give thanks for the healing received, and vote to bring healing care to all who need it. May those in happy marriages give thanks for that great blessing, and vote to extend it to all who love. May we set aside petty concerns and prejudices and be guided by wisdom and compassion, not ignorance or fear. Grant us a fair election, with no deception or trickery.

Goddess, bless us with wise government, of the people, by the people, and for the people.

Blessed be.

Art and Soul

Over the past few days, I've discovered the value of doing something badly. As I’ve mentioned a time or two, I’m a Virgo and doing something badly doesn’t sit well, so this is a lesson that’s been waiting for me for a very long time, I’m sure. I took some workshops at Art & Soul here in Portland last week. It was my first time off from working in more than a year — well, since the last Art & Soul! I really needed to have a good time, and what could be better than making art in the company of other women?

My first workshop was completely outside my comfort zone, but I loved the theme: Everyday Saints. The teacher assured us that “if you can make a pie, you can do this.” I quickly learned that I probably can’t make a decent pie, either. The medium was paper clay, and the idea was to sculpt it into a raised shape on a canvas, and then paint it when it was dry. This was a two-day class — sculpt on day one and paint on day two. Now, as much as I blather on about enjoying the process and being in the moment, I was slammed hard up against the wall of I Really Cannot Do This. My fingers wouldn’t make the (really simple) shapes my head told them to make. My logical mind knew what paint colors to blend to make the shades I wanted, but my ten thumbs couldn’t manage to actually manifest them. The teacher was patience personified, but after a while, her kind and helpful words took on the gentle tones of a kindergarten teacher reassuring the backward child that her scribble really does look like a pony.

By lunchtime on the second day, it was pretty obvious to me that I wasn’t going to go home with anything I’d want to put up on the wall. So now it was all about the wisdom that could be gained from the experience. This is what I learned:
If I only do things I do well, I’ll never grow.
It’s okay to make a big ugly mess.
It takes more than two days to learn new skills.

I went to my second art class (House of Dreams) about equally determined to not care if I made something I liked and to be SURE to make something I liked. Luckily, the teacher said the perfect thing right off the bat: “This is folk art. Don’t make it perfect.” All day she was an enthusiastic cheerleader for messiness, encouraging me to break loose, get down, try something risky, push out of my comfort zone — in short, to have fun. And I did. And as a bonus, I loved what I made. In fact, it’s the first thing I’ve ever made that I actually put up on the wall when I got home. And I want to make more.

So I headed into my final art class with a light heart, ready to play, ready to learn. I didn’t mind that I needed to ask more questions than anyone else — I had Beginner Mind. I was the Fool, a fool for art. I reveled in colors, and happily piled color upon color, not stopping when it was just okay, but taking the chance to make something I liked even more, at the risk of ruining it. I made a magical model of my own left hand, open and receptive to magic and grace. And then I brought it home . . . and put it on the wall. 

I wasn’t going to write about my failure piece, the first one, but as I got ready to post about the other two, I got a group email from the teacher, with photos of all our pieces, including mine, which wasn’t finished by the end of class. She said, “It truly does make the world a better place when people make art. So good job saving the planet.” And I realized that maybe my unfinished Goddess of Fire and Water, as clumsy and imperfect as she is, might make my own little world a better place than the pieces I liked enough to put up on the wall. After all, the gathering is called Art & Soul, not just Art. My soul needs adventure and risks. Whether I finish her or leave her unfinished, she’s already liberated me a bit from my own need for perfection. And maybe you need some of that too. May your creative fires burn brightly, and your heart overflow with love. Blessed be.

(The piece above is the one I struggled with, in her unfinished state. Many thanks to Rogene Mañas, Julie Haymaker Thompson, and Cathy Dorris.)