A Bit on Good Medicine

Good Medicine: Feathered

(watercolor on fabriano wc paper)

I've been speaking of "good medicine" for some time now, and it's finally coming out in watercolor.  Mind if I tell you this week's story?

Monday was rough.  Somedays are like that; the tired old voices of doubt and scarcity sit heavy upon the chest until a deep, full breath is near impossible to be had.  The old self-care tricks seem feeble and single-note.  I arrived home from banality of errands ready to write the day off, stepped out of the jeep, and into a circle of feathers ringing the cedar.  The reality of death and the truth of life cycles cut through the fog.  

Here was something sacred: 

One life in exchange for another.  I hoped it was my peregrine, grown into adulthood.  I gathered the feathers with ruddy, freezing fingers, that no part should go to waste.  I preened through them, noting small color variations, laying out a wing's worth of flight feathers.  And in that gift, I re-found my light.

* * *

Sometimes Good Medicine is straight-forward; a gift arrives in the midst of shadow and brings back the light.  But more often I find the process subtle, requiring our open minds, receptive hearts and disciplined spirit.  Sometimes good medicine is held within historical symbolism, in a stone that offers luck and protection, in a leaf that heals the heart, in a creature that teaches us to use our voice.  There is magic in belief, but just as much magic in intention and self-written mantras.  When I go nestering, when I gather those natural homes on mantles and arrange them on walls, I think of them as tiny vessels of safety, of warmth and comfort, as places to gestate ideas and plans, as home, a concept this nomadic spirit craves deeply.  Thinking of them this way brings me comfort and joy; indeed they are good medicine for my soul.  

* * *

One day I as I wore flicker feathers in my hair (ok, that's most days), I was stopped by a silver haired woman who nodded as she spoke: "Flicker feathers, from the flicker who carries our prayers to the heavens."  And now, every time I pin them into my curls I think of her words and give whisper to a tiny prayer for the day.  To me it matters less whether those prayers are actually reaching heaven with a winged creature; it is all in the reminder to pray, to breath out deep hopes and beautiful intentions, because that creates the state in which I wish to walk through my days.  

And to me, that is Good Medicine.

* * *

As a final note, I've been remiss!  This watercolor, plus the few other I've shown here and on my Flickr  (hehe) page are destined for my upcoming show at Ghost Gallery here in Seattle!  The show opens with the art walk on March 14 which means I need to keep those brushes busy!  For all you locals, I'll keep you posted with the details shortly.  Until then, the studio calls and I shall answer.

~ Umber ~

To Stride over Hill and Dell

To stride over hill and dell

To scoop up these small facets of light,

refracted by the holly, broken by the western squall.

My fingernails are ever gritty with the marks of the land,
the discards of crows and
the vain attempts of snatching scent from the loam.

But if I've learned one thing, 

it's that there is no "too old" for squatting in the detritus, sifting for story.

For when I rise, they dip their heads in conspiratorial agreement,

For the crows and I, we sing in bones.

Lunch Date

Because sometimes, out is better than in.

Until you come home to these goobers of course.

* * *

What warming, delicious, solitary or chatterbox thing have you done today?  I have a friend arriving shortly and while the whole house could use a solid dusting, I think I might slip into the studio for a spell before she arrives.  I know she'll understand.

~ U ~

And then there was that whole week I missed

Hello Hello!

I seem to have absolutely missed an entire week down the rabbit hole of my studio (it's like tumbling head over heels through a cabinet of curiosities wherein one might trip over goose wings and catch a swiftly falling cup of coffee followed by a tiny creamer pot spilling it's wares through space).  What this really means is that one, I've been tucked into creativity, and two, I've really missed you!

There has been the delicate swirl of water on heavy paper, the buttery carving of stamps (and smacking them everywhere, oh!  The joy!), the official end of nestering season and the documenting of gifts. 

[There is much more to say on these, but it will have to wait for a later post] 

There has been holy communion with kindred sisters, sometimes over wine, sometimes over cacoa, sometimes a roaring fireplace, sometimes over the beating of drums.

There has been chiming owls, misty skies, black high heels and mud boots, plus a smattering of self-generosity - new house plants included.

And of course, there has been smithing.  I'm calling them Hathor Rings: Luck Amulets for she of a fertile mind and heart, a collection of American turquoise and itsy-bitsy feathers, each drawn and sawn with a rhythmic humming, each one created with prayers of luck and joy breathed into its very fabrication.

(heading into the shop momentarily...)

It's always so good to be back.

Big Love my Friends,

~ Umber ~

Just a few images from this week's outdoorsing.  This morning I'm hustling about, dressing warm, and heading out to a yurt in the woods with some rather magical women.  There will be bonfires and art and maybe even some spontaneous dancing.  I can't wait.  I've been an utter hermit lately and it's time I gave my inner introvert a break.  

Wishing you all a weekend full of hula hoops and pine needles!

~ Umber ~