Yes, Valentines Day is quickly upon us. I love it all: the hearts; the red and pink,; fat frolicking, well-armed babies. The Christianized St. Valentine’s Day falls on the Roman fertility festival of Lupercalia, where love notes called “billets” were exchanged. That celebration was a bit more to the point, with a Sacred She Wolf, permissive orgiastic rites, Lupa’s grottos and all the poetic euphemism this celebration invites.
The church later replaced this day with a celebration of the mythical St. Valentine, a kind of slap-dash re-invention of Pan who was still called on love charms and other such workings.
The heart appears in my work quite often. It is one of my favourite symbols. Not only does it have a lovely, comforting symmetry as a motif– the rounded top and pointed bottom offer a satisfying contrast. But beyond aesthetics, the heart offers much profound human meaning. Hearts were offered to Aztec gods while they were “still dancing” and the ancient mother goddess was often referred to a “swallower of hearts.” Hearts are the currency of the soul. Later manifested in Catholic tradition as the sacred heart, it was the gift of the god to his devout followers. This original vision is attributed to Saint Alacoque who saw it as a blooming rose, a communion cup, a furnace and bridal chamber.
The most important part of this holiday is not erotic or romanic love, but love of friends and our selves. These are worth celebrating.
I’m offering 20% off my Feral Valentines Collection with coupon code LUPERCALIA from the 12th of Feb. to the 15th, 2016.
One of my best sellers is the Octopus Netsuke necklace, and after reading this compelling blog post by the fantastic Mark Chabourn, entitled “Bow to Your Tentacled Overlords” about the ability of octopi to learn and use tools even, I began to realize why. Despite their incredibly alien strangeness, they are perhaps more like us than anyone first understood. Through the Eye of an Octopus is another brilliant discussion summary of cephalopod intelligence studies, puzzle solving and even potentially dreaming.
Many of my necklaces are maid with miniature pewter sculptures from Green Girl Studios– their life-like detail and expressive natures make them particularly suitable for talismanic adornments. The octopus is a prime example– its detail reminiscent of Japanese netsuke. Combined with Swarovski pearls and crystals, I’ve wanted to make this one a worthy tribute to the tentacled overlords! (And I bow to the customer who just got married in hers!)
This track has haunted me for years. It’s from the fascinating CD, Songs of Witchcraft and Magic compiled by the Museum of Witchcraft in Cornwall. The delicate shifting harmonies of the two women’s voices seem to mimic the shimmering silver mackerel darting in the sea, or the twisting bulk of the worm or serpent that was once a boy. In the Northumbrian version of the story, the wyrm is a cursed girl named Margaret and she is saved by her brother’s kiss. He has come to slay the serpent that has menaced his people when at the last minute he recognizes his sister as the creature and saves her with a kiss.
But in this version the serpent sings of his transformation and that of his mackerel sister Maisry– so close to misery, and strung out in the ballad as a three-pearl-syllable. The mackerel consols the wyrm every Saturday at noon– in this verse they have knees and comb each other’s hair, suggesting at that one moment they may be human again. The witch who has transformed them is as usual a wicked step mother. Once caught, she calls the mackerel with a silver horn and all the fish in the sea come to her (what an image!). But the mackerel refuses to obey, and stays a fish. “No more will I be changed by thee!” It cries.
The song closes with the terse couplet–the father goes to the “merry green wood” to gather hawthorn to build a “good bonfire to burn his lady in”.
I highly recommend this CD not only for its rousing strangeness but for the intelligently written booklet with lyrics and notes.