Antlered Drummer Woman at the Shamans Tree...

As I write.....

On my right side, hand on shoulder, stands Saskia, a woman who survives by and large from the offerings of her Reindeer herd. She lives in a circular hide structure, like a cross between a tipi and a yurt. At times, Reindeer come inside for warmth and company. Being wedged between two or three Reindeer is an experience of safety and cosyness, tribe. Sleeping this way is comforting and familiar, when you have known them since calves. The fire is small, wood is hard to find and scarce, wholy and to be respected, especially for the warm food it creates in this harsh climate. It is central to the home come temple, and is surrounded by both altars and semi formed amulets, small pouches of herbs, bones, such like magical works in progress. They lay on soft hides, lain over stones in places, which absorb and retain the heat for her small hearth....

On my left side, hand on shoulder, stands Moraig, a woman who lives through trading with the village she dwells upon the edges of, in her stone roundhouse. Herbal remedies, sained over in words spoken from a heart strong in the wildness of this land and a passion for conversing with her plants, dolls made with intention and whispers of life giving blessing ways. From her ceiling hang drying bunches of gathered green folks, flesh and smoking fish, depending on what she has managed to swap for the contents of her basket o wares, or whom has come bearing requests, and queries, to her door. Sometimes she gathers what she has been working upon, with, places it in her carrying vessel and walks, door to door, over water in lean times, to make ends meet, in a time of trade and bartering skills....

Both these women, are of the Deer totem. Bear the antlers that show the mark of her. Yes her. Mayhaps the Stag comes first to mind, but the matriachal medicine signified by their presence, intuitive and gentle, yet taking no shit, is also old as the hills. Leads the way back, for me, and others, through to a sense of belonging.

It is from this source this image of a drumming woman, ready to strike a beat, echoing the heart at core of human and earth beneath, emerges. Woven into her dress is the knotwork that is as a labyrinthine path, at her throat a hag stone allowing envisioning betwixt the worlds. Upon her drum the Barn Owl, traverser of night skies, silent huntress and bearer of wisdoms, face a heart.

In her hair is intwined Ivy. This is part of my own story organically weaving it's way into the drawing. Worn as protection against intoxification through alcohol by certain gods of ol, it came through as a vegative wreath, mayhaps as a pointed reminder for me as a soul with certain tendencies ;). To seek spirits that nourish. Like those who watch over me as I type. My spirit kin....

May we all be connected to those that watch over us from other realms, walking beside us. I give thanks for those who inspire my makings, and growth, stumbling though it be at times. Aint that the way of incarnation, medicine ways, healing ways....

An intentional 'keeper' doll, sharing a bit o a personal journey...

There had been a bit of a pause in my doll making, and I decided to break the drought with one made for myself, an intentional 'keeper'. She came about organically, and was a lil imperfect, like me ;)....

On a bush walk I connected with a dear scribbly gumtree friend who bears many wounds and scars, yet keeps growing. Even housing a native bee hive :) life! I placed my hand on her silvery bark, and instead of the usual stillness echoing, I received the words 'transform fear'. These words carried with me, and as I sat by a nearby lake meditating, aka gazing at the ripples on the waters surface, whilst connecting in with my spirit kin, the words came 'navigating madness'. I switched it round to 'bringing in curiosity and integration', that felt (pardon da pun) better. 

When I returned home, Elinor Peace Baileys book "Mother Plays with Dolls....and finds an important key to unlock creativity." was jumping out at me from the shelf. She has a pattern for a doll in the book. Thanks Elinor I ain't much chop at pattern making! I tried in linen first, but as I back stitched, felt roving wool kept sticking to my work, as if to say, come back to us! In the end, I did. Cutting a body from felt fabric for my 'green woman'. I began to needle felt a 3d face onto the flat felt, and I was off! In fact, I needle felted so intensely that I went right through the under fabric :( still I stitched a second backing on, and kept going. This doll was determined to come through!  

I decided to fill her with a mix of herbs and some unwashed wool I had, nice n earthy. Also a shed Snake skin and vertebrae, for transformation.The herbs were, in a nutshell, Calendula for wound healing, Cronewort for walking between the worlds and Nettle for green nourishment n protection.

In her womb is a 'shaman's stone' or 'moqui ball' formed in Navaho country, Utah, USA, from the stuff of the core of our Earth, Haematite. I have been working for some years with a mentor in contemporary shamanism, Odette, learning ways for me to navigate the voices I hear from this perspective. Yep, I hear stuff. So placing this stone inside my doll held a lot of meaning for me, it was an affirmation of connecting in to this process. It also felt like a message being sent to my spirit kin, 'I honor you, and will keep the lines open'.

A large part of the reason there has been a pause in the doll makings, is that here in the Southern hemisphere, as some of you will be experiencing, the wheel is turning slooowlly towards Spring. I have been spending more time tending the gardens around our nook cottage, and also reconnecting with my herbology. The crisp sunny days are so lovely, its hard to stay indoors.

A beantlered spirit kin, Moraig, a Scottish witch from times past when folk lived in blackhouses, affirmed this. Moraig, also practiced these two arts, indeed between the seasons in this way. Crafting intentional dolls more in the phase of Winter, then medicines in the growing season. Selling both, from her basket of wares as she walked between villages. She's a rather practical lass, and I am following in her footsteps in more ways then one. As within, without. This is partly what my doll is about ;). Hey that sounds like a bit o a nice chant!

Here she is, as intended by her maker (heh heh) abundantly sunning herself in our garden, as you do!

I so loved the softness of her felt body to hold, (she seemed to also rather enjoy her nudity!) that at first I didn't feel to make her clothes. However, then she informed me she wouldn't mind a few clothes, optional cold weather ware and for when making medicines. She's quite the shamanic herbalist! An aprons n feet in the dirt type, no lab coats here!

Antlered Deer Shamanka

Welcome to the home of enspirited dolls such as this sister to Elen of the Ways!

We are blessed to be living on Arakwal Bundjalung country, Australia. You may ask what does Elen have to do with the landscapes of coastal Australia? Isn't that more Dolphin and Whale medicine?
Well yes, yet she seems to be awakening in a growing number of peoples lives, including mine, as ancestral antlered goddess of the wilds. The Islands of Britain are her homelands, where she was 'Elen of the Hosts', but she is touching people in other parts of the world in these times.

After being drawn to make a be-antlered doll some months back, inspired by the gentle, sense-a-tive, medicine of Deer, I was then fascinated to come across a picture of an ancient bronze Romano Gallic figure of a seated woman with antlers, from France. I'd heard tales of fella's with horns before ;), but this was something! 'Elen of the Ways' was the title beneath. I had a name to begin tracking a gut feeling. She is somewhat elusive, like her totem or the leylines she is also named by. Elen of the Leys.

Elen of the Ways is a world crosser. In a tale written in the collection of lore the Mabinogion, she sends a visionary dream out to a potential love Macsen, to see if he can translate it and come find her. A testing, an Aisling. To possibly earn his place at her Sovereign side, and the lands, as guardian.

Deer occur in most countries of the world, but Reindeer are the only deer in which the females bear antlers. Those that still live with them, such as the Sami people, follow them in migration, rather than 'herding' them like cattle. The Reindeer are led by Grandmothers, or matriachs along their pathways.

There are images painted in caves of Reindeer from some 45 000 years ago, whilst 'domesticating' them is estimated to have occured some 3000 years ago, although some sources say 7000.

There was a time when Reindeer were indeed crossing the landscape of Europe in parts that now, due to climate shifts are either underwater, or populated by different species. For example in Scotland Roe deer and Red deer colonised some 10 000 years ago, it seems all layers doesn't it? Deer were introduced to Australia in the 19th century, six such species, Fallow, Red, Sambar, Rusa, Hog and Chital now inhabit our shores.  

Trance journeying in sacred space is part of my creative process. Recently, I have connected with an antlered spirit being who introduced herself as a Scottish heritage witch, Morag. Also a maker of dolls, amongst other skills. She came from a time when craft supplies were rather more down and dirty than what you get in Spotlight these days. Linens, flax, nettle fibres, roots, sticks, bone, hide, sinew, leather, wool, hag stones, herbs and plants. She has encouraged me using these types of materials and inspired the creation of the pictured doll. A muse, or guide, who affirmed previous suggestions to begin exploring needle felting. A making where unspun wool is repeatedly stabbed with a barbed needle, until it matts together and sculpting begins....

Resources and References:

'Elen of the Ways: Following the Deer Trods, the Ancient Shamanism of Britain' and 'Following the Deer Trods, a Practical Guide to Working With Elen of the Ways' by Elen Sentier.

'Elen of the Ways' an article by Caroline Wise
http://www.andrewcollins.com/page/articles/elen_1.htm