Tag: labyrinth

Some Hidden Blooming

January 31st, 2025

For the weekend that’s in it (Imbolc), I actually do want to reflect on how the time since Midwinter has progressed. It is not my intention, in general, to force posts that are relevant to each of the quarter and cross-quarter days – or to reflect on quintessentially comtemporary “witchy” themes at those times. If the genuine desire is there and the aims for the post are authentic I will do so, of course, but not otherwise.

Turn of the century fruit relish/ketchup

Homemade bread, sauteed kale, & medieval pork loin in spiced wine with brown ale to drink.

Gingersnaps and nog with rum and cinnamon, all homemade.

Prep, set table, and spiked after-drinks of our Midwinter meal.

The last six weeks can be defined as internally chaotic. Everyone I talk to at the moment seems to be having a similar experience – it’s emotionally intense, it leads to and feeds off of dysregulated behaviours and coping mechanisms. In my case, I am struggling to regulate my time online. For example, I’ve gone down a whole rabbit hole recently by obsessively following commentary on developments in the pop music industry and the ongoing fallout from 2024 (::cough cough:: a-certain-Canadian-rapper-who-I’ve-never-liked’s lawsuits ::cough cough::). It’s not uncharacteristic for me to do this – sudden hyperfixations aren’t new – but it’s leading to far too much screen time, to the detriment of my other passions and pursuits, and I can tell what I’m really doing is running from myself… spending time ‘anywhere but here’.

I AM slowly getting a handle on it. Patience and self-directed kindness are key. These days, being overly punishing or strict in my self-talk feels incredibly puritanical in origin and style. I want to make adjustments because I *want* to, not because I’ve self-flagellated with *false* moralisations** about productivity, worth, and depth.

For the time being, I am not posting on youtube or making any videos. I don’t know when I will come back but I KNOW I need time away… long enough to detox. I’ve always enjoyed making videos but hated the process of having them published. Posting them publicly has always felt like an exercise in waiting for my cookie while talking myself around the possibility that no cookie will be forthcoming, that I don’t even need the cookie, wondering why I’m even seeking a cookie, am I seeking a cookie?, I don’t even like cookies!!!*** … It’s time for a break until I can think more clearly about that.

Instead, I have redesigned this blog to be more in line with the direction I’ve wanted to pursue. I have taken the various gallery pages and poetry pages down because they felt too static. I’m less inspired by presenting my portfolio at the moment and more inspired by working through my personal artistic/conceptual processes in an informal setting. I would like things to emerge more organically and dynamically here… I would like to post when I wish to without having to worry quite so much about polished presentation.

A sketch of a dream/nightmare, August 2024 & my 2024 copy of Benebell Wen’s Metaphysician’s Day Planner. Of COURSE my cover customisation is always extra.

My creative endeavours have been geared towards world building for a long time, obviously, but in the last… hm, more than six months… I have felt the need to buckle down and start sketching, drafting, practicing and looking up techniques, and fleshing out what I mean when I refer to visiting the Otherworld or going into The Labyrinth. My The Labyrinth. I want to practice drawing some of it’s architecture… I want it’s music to be audible, even in paintings or drawings or the clothes I ‘bring back’. I want to develop a stronger more identifiable visual vocabulary to help give form to the way I experience and move through the world(s).

Left to right: Almost finished drawing for Major Arcanum Key 18 (few tweaks left); reproduction printed chintz for next sewing project; a quick journal doodle; two homemade perfume oils; this year’s Metaphysician’s Day Planner 😀

I have rearranged my altar and made (subtle?) adjustments to the visual symbolism around me. My magical practice is shifting (especially in the absence of witchtube and tarottube…which I haven’t followed for some time.) Everything is more organic, more me-ish now. Nothing remarkable or more meritorious than others, just more specific and suited to me than is relevant to most online ‘communities’ or ‘search & discovery’ algorithms.

Recent books have been Jorge Luis Borges’ “Labyrinths”, Terri Windling’s “The Wood Wife”, Peter S Beagle’s “The Last Unicorn” and “In Calabria”, Patricia A. McKillip’s “The Tower at Stonywood”, Ray Bradbury’s “Something Wicked This Way Comes”, all of Le Guin’s “Earthsea” materials, Lao Tzu’s “Tao Te Ching” (the Penguin classics translation by D. C. Lau), articles about Alan Garner’s Alderly Edge loose trilogy (I’ve read Weirdstone a few times… not keen on the rest really), more articles on medieval magic, and a bunch of books I’m forgetting at the moment. (Oh, I read all of the Terri Pratchett “Witch” books and several of the “Death” books for the first time.)

Most of the above books are re-reads specifically selected for the post Christmas/New Year ‘season’ but I don’t think it’s insignificant that I finally regained the ability to read last year after ca. 10 years. I’m back to building sensory worlds. I’m back to perceiving and walking through my imagination. I’m back to being able to retain imaginative detail in a way that I haven’t in a long time. At last, my fingers are itching like they used to bring that into creative fruition.

Left to right: Lao Tzu & Borges; a sketch of a childhood nightmare (“Golden Slumbers”) playing around with two point perspective; a raglan jumper I’m knitting for my partner (I found Irish sourced DK wool! … can’t get Shetland wool anymore due to GPSR).

…So to return to this idea of chaos, running from myself, fixating on ‘anywhere but here, in MY life’, I understand it. I can’t speak for everyone but I was raised and socialised to flinch from my self-expression. I am capable of and even prone to terrible potency and it can be scary and destructive. But now I’ve officially**** been a witch for almost 8 years (and I’m 37, not 17). Not a whole lot scares me for long and, of paramount importance, I have learned to turn around and walk straight towards the source of my shadow and fear. Like Sparrowhawk.

In all the heightened emotions, chaos, internal dynamics, and even external gnostic perceptions of the past six weeks, it really does feel like I’m pushing against the inertia of top soil after a long dormant period. Imbolc is the start of Spring here in Ireland and what I love about that is that Spring starts before you can outwardly see it. Change begins before the first translucent shoots appear. Seasons are so liminal and full of process and development. That’s why today’s blog post is to honour and acknowledge the arrival of Imbolc, and the beginning of Spring.

~ Saoirse.

** By which I mean that the knee-jerk assumptions of the social demographic I grew up in are assumptions I disagree with but that are intrusive and persistent in my head regarding ‘how I spend my time’.

*** i.e. The joy of making and wishing to publish videos is a different/separate phenomenon than the experience of ‘being on youtube’. Youtube the platform is increasingly difficult to navigate in a steady manner. It sucks up so much time and energy (to post AND to sift/watch) that is better spent actually sketching or sewing or…literally anything else.

**** By which I mean both that I explicitly converted to a Pagan paradigm and that I adopted the term “witch” (entailing daily acts of witchcraft) just before Lughnasadh of 2017. I had written college papers on the Morrígan, comparative myth, medieval and early modern mysticism, religious commentary, and crafted my life away with art and clothes and fairy wings for YEARS at that point. But in 2017 I stopped running from ‘the label’.
Variations on a Theme of Appearances

January 13th, 2025

A selection of (some) favourite quotations – read or re-read in the last calendar year.

“One of the blotches of reflected sunlight swayed to and fro across the paunch. This particular pool of light moving in a mesmeric manner backwards and forwards picked out from time to time a long red island of spilt wine. It seemed to leap forward from the mottled cloth when the light fastened upon it in startling contrast to the chiaroscuro and to defy laws of tone. This ungarnished sign of Swelter’s debauche, taking the swollen curve of linen, had somehow, to Mr Flay’s surprise, a fascination. For a minute he watched it appear, and disappear to reappear again – a lozenge of crimson, as the body behind it swayed.”

(Peake, Mervyn. “Swelter.” Titus Groan, Gormenghast Trilogy.)

“She tossed her long hair and it flapped down her back like a pirate’s flag. She stood in about as awkward a manner as could be conceived. Utterly un-feminine – no man could have invented it.”

(Peake, Mervyn. “Fuschia.” Titus Groan, Gormenghast Trilogy.)

“Once, long ago, traveling among the marbles of Rome and Florence, he had seen women like this, kept in stone instead of ice. Once, wandering in the Louvre, he had found women like this, washed in summer color and kept in paint. Once, as a boy, sneaking the cool grottos behind a motion picture theater screen, on his way to a free seat, he had glanced up and there towering and flooding the haunted dark seen a woman’s face as he had never seen it since, of such size and beauty built of milk-bone and moon-flesh as to freeze him there alone behind the stage, shadowed by the motion of her lips, the bird-wing flicker of her eyes, the snow-pale-death-shimmering illumination from her cheeks.

So from other years there jumped forth images which flowed and found new substance here within the ice.

What color was her hair? It was blond to whiteness and might take any color, once set free of cold.

How tall was she?

The prism of the ice might well multiply her size or diminish her as you moved this way or that before the empty store, the window, the night-soft rap-tapping ever-fingering gently probing moths.

Not important.

Far above all – the lightning rod salesman shivered – he knew the most extraordinary thing.

If by some miracle her eyelids should open within that sapphire and she should look at him, he knew what color her eyes would be.

He knew what color her eyes would be.”

(Bradbury, Ray. Something Wicked This Way Comes)

“But what word shall I speak?”, asked the Lady Amalthea. “I have said nothing to him, yet every day he comes to me with more heads, more horns and hides and tails, more enchanted jewels and bewitched weapons. What will he do if I speak?” […]

“No, he does not want my thoughts,” she said softly. “He wants me, as much as the Red Bull did, and with no more understanding. But he frightens me even more than the Red Bull, because he has a kind heart. No, I will never speak a promising word to him.”

The pale mark on her brow was invisible in the gloom of the scullery. She touched it and then drew her hand away quickly, as though the mark hurt her. “The Horse died,” she said to the little cat. “I could do nothing.”

(Beagle, Peter S. The Last Unicorn)

“Bioy Cesares had had dinner with me that evening and we became lengthily engaged in a vast polemic concerning the composition of a novel in the first person, whose narrator would omit or disfigure the facts and indulge in various contradictions which would permit a few readers – very few readers – to perceive an atrocious or banal reality. From the remote depths of the corridor, the mirror spied upon us.

(Borges, Jorge Luis. “Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius”. Labyrinths.)

I have collected these quotations here in the same manner in which one writes quotations down in a notebook or journal. I want to look at them from time to time… and turn some things over in my head. I hope to make a modest series of quotations arranged each around a theme… ideally, with as little explanation as possible.

So to close, another quotation from The Last Unicorn:

“One eye opened slowly, green and gold as sunlight in the woods. The cat said, “I am what I am. I would tell you what you want to know if I could, for you have been kind to me. But I am a cat, and no cat anywhere ever gave anyone a straight answer.”

Sincerely,

Saoirse.

The header image (in public domain) is a study of Jane Morris for ‘Dante’s Dream’ by Dante Gabriel Rosetti. A bit on the nose, perhaps, with all the Beatrices, Pygmalions, (and even ‘My Fair Lady’s’) being tossed around… The word “gauche” is used above. I will invoke it again here.
Titus Groan, Piranesi, and Tarot.

October 14th, 2024

SPOILER ALERT!!!

Two books that strike me as worth reading in tandem with tarot are “Piranesi” by Susanna Clarke and “Titus Groan” by Mervyn Peake. It would be tempting to consider picking a specific deck to work with in each case but there might be the risk of over associating that deck with those books afterwards. An idea to be approached with caution, perhaps.

I seem to have regained my ability to read fiction for the first time, properly, in over a decade! There are many reasons for this but paramount for the purpose of this blog post is that I have been allowing myself to define my own terms for my taste. I know what I’m looking for in a work of fiction at this current stage in my life and I am allowing myself to articulate that and pursue it.*

Titus Groan

I can’t vouch yet for the further Gormenghast novels (the rest in the trilogy or any of the further works – short stories, the ‘rediscovered’ book written by Peake’s wife and so on) but I suspect they would all make an interesting study with tarot.

As I finished Titus Groan one specific card leaped to mind: Justice. Justice, in any system (meaning whether you see it at the 8th or 11th Major Arcanum, I think it would apply).

From my admittedly limited experience, the Justice card will often get described as cosmically neutral. It’s not automatically synonymous with legal justice, or social justice, or anything anthropocentric in nature. It’s often viewed as possessing the kind of neutrality that registers to the subjective human mind (and the collective) as “cruel”… unfeeling.

What is interesting about that, however, is that in any given reading where we receive the Justice card, we rely on the cards surrounding it to provide context. In Titus Groan there is a bewildering amount of heavily detailed (deliciously rotten) context. There is a total pointed stylistic preoccupation with the minutiae of a given moment from many vantage points. The book doesn’t really have chapters as such but the manner in which it is structured seems aimed at giving the reader a very specific kind of whiplash…and gaslights you about it too. It oscillates between the estate/house of Gormenghast occupying all our ideas and definition of ‘the world’ or ‘the cosmos’… gets us deeply invested even in the movements of its motes of dust (so often likened to starlight) let alone the emotional landscape of it’s morose and Bosch-like characters… only to zoom far out, like a choppy jump cut, to the world outside the walls; full of archetypal passion plays, journeys, trade routes, forests, and mythic relationships. Every switch takes only a page or so to re-frame your sense of perspective and proportion. It warps your sense of time and space in a deeply compelling way. To be back inside the walls of Gormenghast is almost to forget the narrative of only a few pages prior.

And none of this sense of “loyalty” that you develop in the reading is particularly well rewarded if what you’re hoping for is Justice in its more desirable or “fair” aspects. “Loyalty” is actually an explicit theme in the book but it’s presented as a lived reality, an arch concept, and a dysfunctional source of festering rot. Justice lurks behind it all. Past a certain point, every page feels like a waiting game and you, the reader, bear witness to sociopathic plots and action with no clear idea of the deeper motivations or drive behind specific characters …other than as projection of the rotten dysfunction of Gormenghast itself. Gormenghast (with its own societal ideas of “Justice”) is the living breathing house that is THE world but is also only one small estate inhabited by the rigid seemingly endless loyalty to pattern, ritual, and heritage. What is structurally integral and societally established IS ‘just’ and ‘good’… right?

If this rendering of Justice makes you feel rather enclosed and sweaty, I think its supposed to. It’s also weirdly sympathetic though. I felt continually rather caught and called out!

In Gormenghast, Justice is communicated through sensory experience… a pendulous blotch of wine on white linen flashing in and out of the shadows… its details never relent but that’s the point: perspective becomes acrobatic!

All of this is enhanced, of course, by the fact that Titus Groan is only the first book – as far as I am aware – for the convenience of publication. Weren’t the Gormenghast materials intended as one long work of fiction? As the book opens and closes it feels very much like you have only read a near 400 page ‘first act’.

The Justice card stood out to me throughout not, per se, in its conspicuous absence (though… kind of) but more because the book just screams out that you don’t even know what Justice IS. You are just as limited and ridiculous and totally absurd and strange as any other character in this narrative.

Piranesi

With its overt thematic play on labyrinths, Piranesi feels similar in genre to Gormenghast. The writing is much more direct, the method for telling the story is totally different than Gormenghast. But the tarot also would make a great tool for exploring the book. And the book would do the same for exploring tarot.

What is our concept of Justice in Piranesi? I’m reminded in a way of the development of mind, voice, and perspective in the works of Albert Camus: the Stranger, the Plague, and the Fall. Each has their sort of hints at the next, archetypal touchstones… anchor points.

In Piranesi there are many deliberately archetypal presences. The albatross is a purposeful one, both real and full of reference. The point, perhaps, is that the literary reference is what makes it real to begin with. The statues take on roles almost of silent guides, warnings, or companions. Popes, charioteers, cloaked figures shining lamps in the dark or perpetually pouring vessels of water, nature goddesses, fauns, personifications of becoming, personifications of time or of youth and innocence and so on. There is explicit divination in the book too of course which I found totally riveting… “ornithomancy”.

I loved the book SO intensely and, as is often the case with me when I really get into something, I read it in a single evening. It’s not long and it’s characterised by a clear and open writing style (unlike Gormenghast) so it wasn’t difficult to just sort of… flow through it. It’s also very deliberately structured and that the reader might ‘flow’ through it’s clear and segmented ‘structure’ is VERY apropos and clearly purposeful.

The way it depicted divination, spiritiual knowing, and total quietude felt uncanny in that it reflected so well how I think and feel about these things. Even down to the use of certain phrases – which, of course, to my mind is the act of affirming the efficacy of witchcraft… To me, it’s not a “what are the chances!?” perspective. It’s a “but of course” perspective. If you’re engaging with it and pursuing what you care about than many aspects of it will feel shared even as they differ in various details.

That’s how we get to talk about things like thought forms, egregores, shared culture, collective gnosis, and build systems like tarot!

But the book also shows us the dark abusive side of this. In my opinion, it makes for GREAT reading if you are already a little familiar with the history of Western Occultism… some of the specifics of societies like the Golden Dawn, figures like Aleister Crowley and so on. I’m sure the more you know the more you’d notice is snuck into the pages of Clarke’s fiction, but a baseline acquaintance will do! The book absolutely ‘goes there’ in looking at the dark underbelly of magic and the occult, particularly in its collective iterations. It asks what each of us become, what ‘being’ is vs what ‘doing’ is… What the evil, the ambiguous, the perpetrator, the victim, the isolated neutral, and the open work of having curiosity all are.

Justice sits behind all of this too. And both books don’t ‘answer’ our feelings on it, in my opinion, mainly because the Justice card/archetype isn’t a question. A tarot reading is often predicated on the formation of a question but, paradoxically, Justice isn’t an answer without that subjective context… the role of the reader and/or querent.

Neither of these books answer anything or even exist unless it be in the moment of interaction with their reader(s) and in so far as their readers share how they experienced them.

Okay, so maybe …two Major Arcana: Justice… and the World. But again, no answers. Only contemplation after the provision of context.

Have you read either of these books?

If you have (or if you haven’t and you don’t mind spoilers) let me know what you think! Would you pick the same cards or something else entirely?

~ Saoirse.

* I think the proliferation of blogs, aesthetic terms, and the existence of booktube have helped with this. As a ‘fantasy lover’, back in the day, there was a lot of pressure to ‘read everything you can get your hands on’ … which has never possible for me. Now I feel more able to just say what I’m aiming to read and why!
Creative Tension & the Myth of Talent

May 25th, 2024
Recently, I have been trying to give form to certain ideas. At a snail’s pace, my kind of speed. One of these ideas has to do with a burgeoning awareness that something I have always been able to feel and certainly always yearned for is taking shape… Simply put, it can be called ‘lifestyle’ or ‘vocation’. It’s about the sensory experience of every day. It’s about how that intermingles with the hopes and dreams of the past. It’s even about certain life goals that have recently become a little more tangible.

It can be glimpsed in my thoughts about ‘between’ spaces. I’ve been calling this place ‘the Labyrinth’.

In the Labyrinth, rooms are often arranged according to discipline or genre. Style of activity. Or by medium. It has places that are dominated by memory. Or by myth. Rooms and halls devoted to presence. It has a rotting fairy Versaille, sidhe mounds lie just beyond the walls of it’s outer gardens. I know what grows in it’s crevices. I know what areas get built vs. which simply materialise and I know why – I know what I’m trying to do there. It can only be entered or exited from this side of reality… on the far side it might be infinite. I have not checked.

Though Hilary’s performance style isn’t my favourite now, her work & THIS ALBUM were deeply formative… This cannot be overstated.

In the Labyrinth are all the scariest saddest most soul crushing things I have ever personally encountered. In the Labyrinth are also the scariest saddest things my loved ones have encountered…

In certain rooms in the Labyrinth, it has windows to Nazi Germany. To two little girls in the rubble of Cologne. In other rooms hang portraits of Sarah Chang, Ani Kavafian, Hilary Hahn, Nathan Milstein, Andrew Manze – the violin room. In another, Carter Brey, Andre Emilianoff, Rostropovich, and Jacqueline Du Pré… though I hasten to say the cello room is much scarier than the violin room. More horror and shadow. In the violin room, baroque music echoes from an old scratched record player that I can’t find. It floats between sage green curtains with gold fringe, it gathers in gusts of dusty leaves strewn along the floor. It’s faded tiles are arranged a little like a chess board (but not quite). The violin room has a fallen wall that leads outside. It’s almost always Autumn from that vantage point.

Imagine… Sibelius echoing through the ghostly gallery of memory.

There is joy in the Labyrinth. Some of the most beautiful sunlit gardens I have ever seen. Bright and fresh of a cool morning. In some parts of it I have lots of little demon fairy friends… absolutely inspired by the work of Brian and Wendy Froud, Jim Henson, and others.

“Step out of the page into the sensual world.” ~ Kate Bush

Many parts of the Labyrinth give me the eerie feeling I have seen them before. If you have seen The Storyteller series with John Hurt (and Brian Henson as his dog!) you’ll recognise much of the look of my Labyrinth – including the way a room filmed from a different angle looks like a different story.

If I have something big and overwhelming to face, I walk the number of steps and turns and corridors and gardens it takes to get there. And then I come back.

And therein lies an important nuance – Big and Overwhelming Things. These are not just bad things. Not just lost things.

“It’s Bad Things, Miriam.” “LOST THINGS, APRIL.” “Bad.” “Lost.” “Bad thingsss.” “Lost.” “Bad.” “Lost.” “Bad.” “Lost.” “Bad.” “LOSSST!”

~ “Coraline”

Yesterday, I sat down to work on sketching out wardrobe ideas. The goal has been taking shape in my mind for quite some time of what colour palette I want. What silhouettes I like that also work on my body and my sensory preferences. What works where I live and what I can have ethically shipped or acquired? What layering? What technique? What cheeky little references? How shall I paint myself? Where will I hide symbols & sigils? Which tattoos will I allow people to see? How semi-permeable do I want my persona to be? What kind of variations do I want to build into that without always causing getting dressed to be such a cognitive burden (as fun as it ALWAYS is – I even enjoy pjs!)

JEEZUZ! 7 of Cups, this is getting personal!

It’s hard to go from basic learning to a cohesive finished result. I’m convinced a practiced artist is able to make something and 51% of the time say to themselves, “that was deliberate”. >_< In performance, they always said that the true masters spend their whole lives practicing to make the hardest things seem easy. No one wants their audience to wince in anticipation of a famously difficult passage!

But if I have a flare for aesthetics and a knack for getting my hands to make what I envision, that’s all I have. “Flare” and “Knack”. Good fairy names, to be sure… good to have on side, but not synonymous with a finished project. Not yet the bit where I’ve crafted and lived in my visions. Not yet corporeal. And the tension or dissonance of this arises in a few key places:
- Clarity of vision requires honing and specification. Decisions in favour of one thing at the expense of another. Do I have ‘talent’ for this kind of executive functioning?
NO. (It’s one of my specific autistic ‘traits’ that I suck at this.) It will not just take practice. It will require a lot of frustration, erasing (::gasp!::), paper with pencil dents in it that won’t erase any more, bad stitching… and quite literal ‘blood, sweat, and tears’ because I really shouldn’t be trusted with so many sharp implements.
- Do I know how to manage my fabrics to minimise waste without being over precious?
Ehhhhhhh… always a question, never an answer to that one.
- What happens if I change my mind?
- What happens if my tastes change?
- What if my body changes?
- Should I plan contingency into these patterns?
- Could I remake them into something else?
- Where should I store repair-remnants so they don’t get eaten by moths?
- Shit, I ripped something… again.
But if I draw something after a lot of work and swear words (while also being happy and absorbed in the process) and I show that sketch online and “it looks well enough to the untrained eye” (as it has been drawn by an untrained person!) and some people like it… is that ‘talent’? Or is it burgeoning skill. Is it diligence? Or is it bare minimum that I managed to draw it at all…

Found some old stuff!

Self-portraits. 2021 & 2023?

Experiments – derivative but useful!

What then if the drawings truly do become clothes. (Doesn’t that sound like magic!?) Is THAT talent? Or is it… propensity? Am I pretentious? Am I ‘talented’ or am I just a fucking handful? Who’s gonna hoover up the trail of threads and linen dust…

Maybe I have a talent for being a handful!
- If I share process online, who is my audience?
I literally have no idea… but I HAVE always felt that documentaries about creative process, textbooks and lectures about the preparatory sketches and intentional symbolism of art, and old photographs of ‘artist in studio’ were the most magical Otherworldly thing on the planet.

I want to make the clothes I find in The Labyrinth. I want to come back along those corridors still wearing what I saw there. I want to help that stuff cross the divide – not just the clothes but the air quality, the poetry, the paintings, the furnishings, the music, the ideas.

It’s a stormy yellow-green coloured day today. Deeply blustry and misting with rain. I have a massive headache. But I want to build Otherworlds and I want to learn what it takes to do that.

The word ‘talent’ is a value judgement that has no objective significance at all. In my experience, ‘talent’ is a word used to diminish not only the hard work of others but also the reality of what it is to try something and kind of suck at it until you kind of suck a little less! Perhaps people accidentally sabotage themselves in using this word. If it’s always someone else that is so talented… What do we think their talent is? Is it the same as what they want it to be or thought it was? Have we ever seen what their work looked like not just when they started but at every point along the way? Good days? Bad days? Days where they had a dentist appointment and forgot to cover their paints so everything dried up? Days where they’ve LOVED baking until they realised they mis-measured their yeast …or the oven stopped working but the light stayed on? Days where the internet told them they were great but a favourite family member grimaced at their ideas?

What if you’re a 60 year old man who wants to learn to swim after years of being body shamed. What if you used to dream of talking to fish and you want to explore that again in the physical realm? I bet you could become an expert at loving water – not just a ‘talented’ swimmer.

Some people have opportunity, privilege, & support. Too many people don’t. Maybe most people have an incorrigible mix of these things. A pervasive paradox.

Culturally agreed upon standards for what looks like talent totally exist… but they are relative at best. Not very nice and of limited use. Picasso, Dante Gabriel Rossetti and other such humans dwell in the realm of talent and genius only because they deny entry to others. Sabotaging others with jealousy and aggression. Their work is good, just not THAT good. The idea of ‘inherent talent’ (to me) just screams ‘big fish, little pond’.

The concept of ‘perseverance’ exists but I think it gets misapplied to the point of losing a lot of what’s useful about it. Can you persevere at being scatter brained? Do we value that word internally or are we waiting for it to be applied externally?

Play TOTALLY exists. But if ‘play’ is ‘talent’, then can talent be ‘lost’? And if talent can be lost, then I think it must not be inherent. Which, to me, means you could be 96 years old and still decide to redevelop it if you chose… just because you can. That sounds more like curiosity and skill-building! Achievable things! Real magic.

If ‘talent’ exists, then everyone must have it. I think it’s down to the inherent tension and dissonance of asking yourself what yours are… and inventing them when necessary!

~ Saoirse.

P.S. It’s a total joke that I put my own work next to all these amazing true geniuses. I laugh at myself, not them!
“Ways of Seeing”* … Scrapbook-style

April 16th, 2024

I wanted to share some recent moments of simple joy & presence. These photographs were not necessarily taken for the purpose of sharing in a public format. However, I am in the habit of taking constant photos of brambles, for example… Such photos in turn make up a good back catalogue of plant/animal material to from which to practice drawing**, to practice seeing, and to practice layering concepts.

Whether something gets shared or not is rarely planned (at least rarely planned fully) and the follow-through on any such plans also rarely correlates to the intent in taking the photograph. It’s all a bit loosey goosey up in here.

For me, it has become increasingly clear that the intent to share (or not?) is not so binary… Thus, some recent moments of craft, joy, & sensory immersion.

Little doors…

“Down among the weeds, down among the thorn” (‘Tam Lin’; Child Ballad 39, Roud Index 35)

Looking for Miss Tittlemouse…

Tarot decks ‘in sa phub’! (Crystal Tarot, my trusty travel deck.)

Salmon Advice cards …not sure this is the correct Vol. box though…

The Glamour altar… among other things.

A moment of ‘synchronicity’ with a friend 🙂

5 am, after nightmares.

Colour, texture, & lots of hidden flora & fauna amidst curvilinear existence.

For some context on what I’m doing with the header image, you might like to watch this video of mine on The Hush Tarot & it’s references to Arthur Rackham/the Golden Age of Illustration:

An oldie but a goodie…

~ Saoirse

* A reference to the highly influential (1970s) art historical work of the same name by John Berger. You can watch it for free here. I’ve actually not watched all of it myself yet but the significance of this was two fold – to challenge what was up to that point a more traditionalist method of interpreting art historical work & to introduce the viewing audience to ways of questioning & analysing the art they take in or experience.

** The header image is a composite of my own photography of birch trees and a print I own of “The Fairy Tightrope”/”Fairy Dancing on a Spiderweb” by Arthur Rackham. You can see an early version of this image in a 1912(?) copy for free from the New York Public Library here. I guess you can also be glad I’m not sharing my photographs of dead rats and such 😛

*** Check out the album Child Ballads by Anaïs Mitchell & Jefferson Hamer. It has a *gorgeous* version of Tam Lin that keeps the pregnancy/poison narrative in! …I mean, check out Anaïs Mitchell in general ::drool::
A Method for Building Other Worlds

February 28th, 2024

Something that has gripped my imagination my entire life is the idea of ‘Building Other Worlds’. Importantly, I don’t mean only as ‘substance behind narrative genres’. World-building for a fantasy novel or for game play, though deeply interesting, is only one popular iteration of a much broader interdisciplinary creative drive to make and experience other worlds. What of Art? Architecture? Costume? Music? Theatre? Ecological experience? Folklore? What of symbolism or spacial awareness? Where do we get ideas for what our worlds look like and what tools do we use to build them?

I have been wanting to write about this for a long time but have been puzzled about where to start. Do I start by explaining some things about art history? About perspective, image composition, numerology? Do I dig into how tiered worlds in late medieval and renaissance literature make their way into contemporary visual language? What about modern art? What about tarot or oracle? Witchcraft, sewing, or poetry? Would tracing themes of port cities and their proximity to marshland or wetland habitats get the message across? What about folkloric recordings of Victorian vs. Medieval streets in Irish town centres!? Ultimately, I realised I’m going to have to start where I am and, if you wish, you can follow me down each corridor as and when I get there.

Here are some purposefully drawn 18th c. Minchiate cards illustrating how card visuals can help you construct doors to Otherworlds and populate them in turn with architecture, characters, and landscape …with pips for ‘scaffolding’!

Recently, I revisited some books that were instrumental in helping me to identify myself when I was young. These follow very much in a similar vein to other favourites of mine such as Pish Posh, Said Hieronymus Bosch, The Books of Earthsea, The Chronicles of Prydain, The Hounds of the Mórrígan, or Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell… and I took special care to obtain secondhand copies of the specific covers I grew up with as well.

I have yet to re-read The Raven Ring although I know I will love it as I can’t remember how many times I would have read it growing up.

There are five books in all (for now) – each of which features scenes relating to tarot, tarocchi, or otherwise emphasise attention to historical detail within their fictional plots.

* Midnight Magic by Avi (part of a series that didn’t exist yet when I was younger. I won’t talk about this one much because – as it turns out – it wasn’t as good as I remembered and it’s representation of tarot is tangential to the plot and seems fairly ignorant of what tarot is. I still LOVE the cover though!)

* Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman (no, I am not going to watch the new film abomina…I mean, adaptation of this beautiful wonderful highly intelligent book.)

* The Midwife’s Apprentice by Karen Cushman

* I, Coriander by Sally Gardner

* The Raven Ring by Patricia C. Wrede (part of the Lyra series but I have not read any of the others.)

The Midwife’s Apprentice is pictured here with selected plot-relevant cards from Oracle Médiéval et Merveilleux by Gulliver l’Aventurière & Julien Miavril. (No spoilers!)

For one thing, all of these books (except Midnight Magic) were aimed, perhaps, at Young Adult readers generally socialised as feminine but at no point did they talk down to them. They were an excellent foray into how creative and narrative detail coexists wonderfully with good historical enquiry. There is an emphasis on trade and commerce. Some of these feature port cities or otherwise thriving commercial principalities and their conflicts with rural living and tradition. They discuss textiles as if their readers can and will care about how they affect plot. And they treat Otherworlds and/or magic with the same expectation: that readers are curious to know detail and will put in the imaginative effort. To me, this is how the imagination grows.

Catherine, Called Birdy is pictured here with two cards from the Oracle Médiéval et Merveilleux that are… relevant to the story. 😉

Artistically, a glance at these covers will possibly explain a thing or two about my own preference for facial portraiture and the art of the late middle ages and early renaissance. The time periods in the books vary a little more widely than the covers. I, Coriander, for example, is set mostly in Cromwellian England and the time period represented art historically on Catherine, Called Birdy is about 200 years later than the setting of the book (i.e. 15^th century visuals [1] vs 1290-1291 book setting.) I was lucky enough, however, to have an aunt who overlooked things like that. For example, she focused instead on showing me how the play in perspective with the rope and bucket and the figural proportions on the cover of Catherine, Called Birdy were all little art historical jokes that the artist had borrowed from real historical painters. The implication was that if I was clever and curious, I could find them out …and I did!

Obviously there is so much to say even just about these books… so for now I will draw a few connections between I, Coriander and a few tarot and oracle decks that I have.

I, Coriander pictured here with selected cards from the Nicoletta Ceccoli Tarot. Once again, the penchant for strange emotionally intelligent portraiture!

In the first place there is reference to a pair of wedding portraits in I, Coriander …a woman in the foreground holding an oak-leaf, a tiny hunting scene nearly hidden in the wooded middle-ground behind her, and a citadel in the distance. Her spouse is positioned in front of a fantastical city with a river or estuary intended (thematically) to mirror his connection with trade and the Thames. But in this city, there are mermaids and fantastical boats in the water among other things… I couldn’t help but picture certain cards from the Trionfi della Luna (paradoxical pictured below.) Or perhaps wander into a landscape just beyond the borders of such a city… might we find the world of the Somnia tarot there? People in old robes and linen shifts wandering in among the wetlands and sedge grasses gazing at the stars or riding silent sad horses?

Cards chosen from the Trionfi della Luna to mirror aspects of the story in I, Coriander… along with various imaginings of my own about the space we inhabit in the Somnia Tarot.

I should note I have also recently read Witchfinders by Malcolm Gaskill and am currently working my way through The Witch: A History of Fear from Ancient Times to the Present by Ronald Hutton… Of course, in so far as witch hunts in England overlapped with civil war tensions between Royalists and Parliamentarians (and occurred along Puritan vs ‘Popish’ lines), I, Coriander made for an excellent fictional backdrop! Also, I really enjoyed drawing cards from the Oracle of Black Enchantment (also by Deviant Moon Inc.) while reading Witchfinders as a visual processing exercise*.

Pages from Malcolm Gaskill’s Witchfinders featured here with various cards from the Oracle of Black Enchantment (Samhain edition.) Patrick Valenza’s art historical source material (at least in part) should be fairly evident…

Lastly, this emphasis on the detail of Otherworlds – their textiles, buildings, landscapes, emotional experiences, social relationships, flora and fauna etc. – is playing a huge role in my current artistic endeavours. I tend to see pip decks as decks full of concepts/characters (in the majors and courts) and their scaffolding and architectural surroundings (in the pips). Sometimes this visual architecture is metaphorical and sometimes it is fairly literal. It depends on the reading. But it’s also helping me to tease out what it feels like to think of tarot decks in this way and what that might mean for creating a tarot deck of my own. Furthermore, I have been rebuilding a former world of mine and have recently begun sewing some clothing that I envisioned there…

And, of COURSE, the Pagan Otherworlds Tarot… featured here over (deadstock) cognac red crushed velvet ::drool::

Perhaps the act of sewing my own clothes is really the process of bringing fairy clothes over the divide? It would explain the time traveler vibes, don’t you think? 😉

So… this post has mostly been about my own personal explorations and impressions. I plan to return soon, however, with some better grounded and CITED analytical material about art history and technique.

Sincerely,

Saoirse.

* Please note! Literally any deck will aid in visual processing or reinforcing thematic content for literally any book. There is no need to acquire any deck not already within your means or comfort zone. Decks/products/material items are mentioned here for illustrative purposes only! It’s PRAXIS that matters.

** All decks featured here of my own volition and arising from my own use of them. I have neither been invited nor commissioned to do so and I have no affiliation with any of their creators. The TdL (paradoxical) was a private gift from a friend. All others were purchased by me.

[1] See images by artists like Petrus Christus (especially ‘Portrait of a Young Girl’, 1460s) and his contemporaries. The cover here has a very Burgundian look with a single truncated hennin among other distinguishing features…

Tag: labyrinth

Some Hidden Blooming

Variations on a Theme of Appearances

Titus Groan, Piranesi, and Tarot.

Titus Groan

Piranesi

Have you read either of these books?

Creative Tension & the Myth of Talent

“Ways of Seeing”* … Scrapbook-style

A Method for Building Other Worlds