Bone Singer Studio Blog

Eight-Bit Cute Spaceguy Give Away

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 11:48:00 +0000

Good morning everyone! I went for a walk with the morning sunrise hoping for a blue-sky-out-in-the-garden day today. However as you can see, storm clouds are looming, heading this way from Eyeries ,so it looks like it is going to be an indoor/creative/painting day today. (That's my house over there with the old, limed, white walls...soon to be painted Sapphire Blue by my landlord. :) )
As I was clearing my desk to make room for the "Dissolution" painting, I noticed Eight-bit just hanging about, looking rather lonely. "Eight-bit" is my nickname for a little fellow I made last year. Remember him from my "Releasing My Inner Nerd" post? I'm rather attached to him because he floats around all over my desk exploring the space between books, notebooks, research papers, paintings and paint. However, it is time for him to explore a new home so I will be giving him away to someone who might enjoy his odd little hand-sewn chibi proportions and hand-painted visage.

If you think you would like Eight-bit to come live with you, please leave a comment below.If you'd rather not post a comment, or don't have a blogger account please feel free to email me and I will add you to the list. I will draw a name next week and contact the winner privately for his or her mailing address.
Now I'm off to paint...

Sheep!

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Sat, 27 Jun 2009 12:01:00 +0000

Sheep! Love them or not, they are definitely a living part of the Beara landscape. Luckily I love them...except when they are eating my garden of course.The following are a some pictures of the some of the woolly beings that live near my home, and some who have ventured into my garden for a few furtive treats.

King of the Hill

In the Pink
An Irish Traffic Jam

Who left the garden gate open?!

One of the things I love about where I live is the fact that many of the farmers still use sheep dogs to round up their flocks. There is something exhilarating about listening to the calls and whistles of the farmers as the collies streak through the hills like mercury, the sheep flowing and wheeling down the hillsides. So many times I watch in awe and forget to lift my camera. Next time I will try to remember to capture it on video for you. It is indeed a stunning sight.

In the meantime, I found some shepherding footage from Wales I hope you will enjoy!

Sacred Hart

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 11:23:00 +0000

I dreamed I was moving quickly through a forest, racing through branches and briars. I sensed a cougar slipping through the shadows around me, behind me; I sniffed the air but felt no danger, only a heightened sense of anticipation. My body shifted into the shape of a deer or an elk, pushing and pulling into a strong form with long legs, the thrust of antlers sprouting from my skull.

I pawed at the ground and lifted my head high. A challenge to the hidden ones! The race was on as the forest exploded into action. The cougar burst from the undergrowth and tore into my shoulder, leaving my breathless. My heart raced as my human senses melted into the environment. Finely tuned hearing, seeing and smelling were my guides. I was strong and swift and eager to run, to fight, to die. The cougar blurred and tore into me again. I fought and ran, turning and twisting as the shadows became wolves.

I fought joyfully and was torn to pieces. As my elk/deer body drifted into death, I regained my human form. I thanked the cougar and the wolves and all the deer spirits. I was sitting cross legged in the forest clearing, arms up, palms out, chest heaving as I tried to regain my breath. My skin was pale and translucent; my bones were visible underneath my skin. Although human I retained the antlers that were growing from my head; I felt the touch of a hand on my chest and I glowed like stardust. My ribs were still splayed open, displaying my beating heart.

indigo dreams of sea

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 11:20:00 +0000

sometimes i sit and
dream the dreams
of a selkie
indigo dreams of sea
quench my spirit and
renew my soul and
i am again
content in my humanity

Painting and poem by Susanne Iles, acrylic on carved wood, framed

Mindfulness of the Senses: A Walk Around My Home

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Sat, 13 Jun 2009 15:18:00 +0000

I decided to take a little walk around with a focus on mindfulness of the senses. Instead of trying to reach out and create a mental conversation with the world around me, I withdrew slightly and moved into the role of observer.

After a few false starts I was finally able to quiet my brain and noticed that the landscape came into sharp focus. A burgeoning abundance of blossom and birds was one of the first things I noticed. Dark, prickly gorse in bloom with yellow buds folding into themselves, reminded me of childhood snapdragons and their open and closing mouths. I noticed foxgloves floating in a waving sea of grass, buttercups seeking the sun, flowing strands of wool snagged and waving like a flag on a blackberry mast, fuchsia ringing pink and purple bells in the warm wind, ferns and moss gathered in the recesses of the old stone walls and a bright moon in a blue summer sky.

Some hooded crows were arguing with the magpies, bickering and complaining and occasionally calling each other names. As I passed by, the rivals became allies and they began to taunt me, telling me to leave, talking to each other wondering how long it would take before I pass by. I stood and listened and realized there was something they were waiting for and were quite angry that I had interrupted their discussion. Sure enough, a few feet down the road I noticed someone had spilled a basket of fruit and it was apparent that both sides were trying to work out their fair share.

A small bird sang a self absorbed song, sometimes calling, sometimes entertaining himself. He would occasionally change his melody mid-tune, just for a moment, as if experimenting, composing something just a little bit fancier each time. He sat in the hawthorn amongst the blossoms. I wondered why the locals call the hawthorn "bread and butter" and vowed to taste it next time I passed by.

Nearing the cliffs I remembered there was supposed to be a faery rath nearby and wondered where it could be. Two ravens appeared over the ridge and swooped down, barrel rolling, and chasing each other. They disappeared for just a moment, their black bodies obscured by the mouth of a darkened cave, until they curved again skyward into the sunshine. Do I dare enter the cave on my next journey? (Perhaps...)

I spotted mushrooms growing on a shady side of a wall and considered them. Were they benign? Could they be poisonous? A closer inspection almost found me stepping into a patch of nettles; I pulled back suddenly and caught my wrist on a tiny branch of blackthorn, giving myself a scratch. I was surprised that my observance didn't turn into judgment of good versus bad, pretty versus ugly, or, "This plant is nice, that plant is not".

Normally I think it is human nature to compartmentalize things according to our likes and dislikes, or what we consider good for us and bad for us. Because I set out on this meditative journey asking for mindfulness I didn't feel the need to judge what I was observing, but understood that it was no longer fair to pigeon hole anybody or anything according to my preferences. I realized today that nature just "is", neither good nor bad, just a "be-ing" that lives in the moment.

As an extension of nature and the world around us, I decided I would start trying to appreciate things more on a moment to moment basis. I am notorious for making lists, planning projects and penciling items into my calendar. Today's walking meditation close to home taught me the lessons of observance, living in the moment, being non-judgmental and honouring the simple moments and heartbeats that make up our days.

(I need to make a note of this and carve it in the palm of my hand)

I feel the power that,invisible catches me...

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Fri, 29 May 2009 12:31:00 +0000

I pray and incur

silence. Some take that silence

for refusal.

I feel the power

that, invisible, catches me

by the sleeve, nudging….

I know its ways with me;

how it enters my life,

is present rather

before I perceive it, sunlight quivering

on a bare wall.

Is it consciousness trying

to get through?

Am I under

regard?

It takes me seconds

to focus, by which time

it has shifted its gaze….

It has the universe

to be abroad in.

There is nothing I can do

but fill myself with my own

silence, hoping it will approach

like a wild creature to drink….
(R.S.Thomas)

(for my moly_x_45 group)

Angelic Grimoire (Portable) and baby Picture

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Tue, 12 May 2009 11:47:00 +0000

After a long few weeks we are finally home! Hurray! As one person so succinctly put it, "You've been to hell and brought back a piece of heaven." Little Éadaoin is now a little over eight weeks old and a "whopping" 2kg. (almost 4 and a half pounds) She is healthy and happy, a real little angel!
Speaking of angels...A while back I was fortunate enough to receive a copy of "A Modern Angelic Grimoire" by Fr.Rufus Opus. Using this body of work I created a portable grimoire suitable for use when traveling. Although a little rough looking it is highly effective.

The blank pages inside the hardbound book are used for record keeping and illustrations detailing the rituals and outcomes. In time I will share some of these drawings with you.

In the meantime, thank you for your continued support and well wishes...it is so good to be back!

Éadaoin Inari Byrne

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 16:41:00 +0000

Dearest Friends,

I have many posts and photographs lined up for you, but they will have to wait until the magical month of May. In the meantime I have some happy news I am delighted to share with you.

March 11th saw the early arrival of my beautiful little daughter Éadaoin. She was due May 27th but decided that spring suited her birthday better than summer. She was born prematurely at 29 weeks (11 weeks early) but I am thrilled to say she is perfect in every way and is doing very well. Your prayers and wonderful wishes have made this journey so much brighter.

I only have access once a week to a public computer as I am here in Cork City, so again my posts will be meagre until May. I am looking forward to heading back home to the beautiful Beara Peninsula in the next few weeks and re-connecting to all the wonderful people who have been following my blog.

Much love to all,
'til soon,
Susanne

Dobrynja and Gorynytch, A Dragon Tale from Russia as retold by Susanne Iles

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 13:42:00 +0000

Dobrynja and Gorynytch, A Dragon Tale from Russia as retold by Susanne Iles

Long ago in a beautiful land, there lived a handsome hero named Dobrynja and his widowed mother. Dobrynja’s mother was a very wise woman given to visions and known for her sage counsel.

One day she had a premonition of disaster and anxiously warned her son to stay away from the River Puchai. "The river is a terrible place my son and people disappear from its shores, never to be seen again. The waves themselves are dangerous and can consume you. The first wave licks with tongues of fire. The second wave sends showers of sparks. The third wave roils and boils and sends up clouds of scalding steam." Dobrynja listened to his mother but curiosity overcame him. He soon found himself on the edge of the River Puchai which, to Dobrynja, looked calm, peaceful and inviting.

Since it was a very hot day Dobrynja decided to bathe in the river. He stripped himself of all his clothing, weapons and armour. He left his belongings with his horse then slipped into the still waters. Within moments the water began to surge and bubble. Tongues of fire tasted the shoreline and flaming cinders sparkled in the air. Suddenly, from the rolling clouds of steam, a marvelous dragon appeared!

"My, my, my," chortled the dragon with glee. "I thought Dobrynja the hero was here to kill me as was prophesied long ago. Luckily, I see nothing in this river but a naked and tasty fish for my dinner."

The dragon’s name was Gorynytch and she was frightening to behold. Three-headed, seven-tailed, she moved like lightning and was rushing toward Dobrynja with fierce jaws agape.

Dobrynja, seeking to escape, dove deeply into the river and swam underwater to the far shore where his steed and his weapons were waiting. Much to his dismay Dobrynja surfaced to find his horse had disappeared with all his possessions. He was completely vulnerable to the dragon’s onslaught and knelt down to contemplate his impending fate.

Suddenly, something shiny hiding in the long grass caught Dobrynja’s eye. It was a helmet! Dobrynja leaned forward to pull the heavy helmet toward himself. When the dragon saw the handsome hero kneeling in the grass she began to gloat as she thought him to be begging for his life. On his knees! What a treat!

Dobrynja waited until the dragon was almost upon him. He could feel her hot breath on his shoulders. Quickly he turned and swung the heavy helmet with all his might striking off one of the dragon’s heads. Dobrynja then leaped on top of the dragon prepared to deliver another blow when Gorynytch began to plead for her life. "Dear, dear Dobrynja, oh brave and noble knight. I beg of you to spare me for the sake of my many children who would starve to death if I were to perish. Let us make a pact of heartfelt friendship. I promise I shall never carry off another person from this river or anywhere else. I promise I’ll be good but you must agree not to harm any of my hatchlings." Because Dobrynja was not only a brave man but a kind-hearted one, he released Gorynytch reminding her of the promise.

No sooner was Gorynytch out of sight when she changed her mind and flew north to Kiev in search of her next victim. Espying Prince Vladimir’s lovely niece in a garden she dove down, snatched the terrified girl off her feet and carried her to her lair.

As it happened Dobrynja was trying to make his way to Kiev. The journey was long and arduous for his horse was nowhere to be found. Upon arrival to Kiev, he was greeted with the sight of great public mourning and fear over the abduction of the Prince’s niece. The court was in an uproar and the Prince was having great difficulty finding a man brave enough to confront the dragon, Gorynytch.

Dobrynja was going to ask how he could help when he overheard Alesha the Priest’s son comment on having seen the dragon and Dobrynja in conversation at the river. "Perhaps Dobrynja should be the one to rescue your niece," slyly suggested Alesha. "Since Dobrynja and the dragon are obviously such close and dear friends it should be an easy feat for him." The Prince was outraged and wholeheartedly agreed Dobrynja should be the one to retrieve her. If the young hero failed to return the girl, Dobrynja would be put to death.

Dobrynja, cheeks burning with shame and fury, headed home to seek the counsel of his wise mother. Seeing her son’s weary and sad face, she spoke to him about his troubles and promptly sent him to bed for a good night’s rest. While her son slept she set to work. The night was spent weaving a magical whip from seven silken strands to aid Dobrynja in his battle with the dragon.

At dawn Dobrynja awakened refreshed but worried. "Mother," he said. "I don’t know what to do. I will try to rescue the girl and confront the dragon but I have no horse and no weapons to help me against the dragon and her terrible brood." Mother replied, "I have made a gift for you to help you on your journey. But first, there is a beautiful chestnut horse in the old stable. It belonged to your father and your father’s father but has unfortunately been neglected for years. Quickly get the horse, it will serve you well."

Dobrynja hurried to the old stable and unlocked the door. Peering into the darkness he could see the horse was mired in filth and looked hungry. The young hero gently washed the animal and fed it sweet corn and honeyed water. He then prepared for his journey and said goodbye to his mother. The wise woman handed Dobrynja her gift of the silken whip. She explained it would be the only weapon he needed and gave him her blessings. Dobrynja raced off in search of the treacherous dragon.

The ground near the cave of Gorynytch writhed with the young of the she-dragon. The horse reared up and trampled the hatchlings underfoot, all the while being bitten and scratched about the legs. The chestnut horse began to weaken from its injuries. Dobrynja feared for his and his steed’s life but remembered the magical whip his mother had given him. He whisked the horse between the ears and legs and felt renewed life surge into the horse. The healed beast lashed out with its mighty hooves and finished off the remaining young dragons.

Hearing the commotion outside her cave, Gorynytch rushed to the scene. When she saw Dobrynja and the devastation around him she shrieked with horror and fury. "You lied to me!" she screamed. "You broke your promise!" Dobrynja raged, "It was you who was the oath-breaker! You broke our pact by flying to Kiev and stealing the Prince’s niece. Hand her over to me immediately and there will be no further bloodshed."

Never!" cried the dragon. "She is my treasure and I shall never release her to you!" She attacked Dobrynja and they began to fight. Three days and three nights they battled. The handsome hero was weakening and was about to give up when he heard a voice whisper, "Just three more hours young Dobrynja. Three more hours and you will succeed." For three more hours the battle raged and the dragon finally met her death.

Although Dobrynja had succeeded in killing the dragon he had bathed in dragon’s blood for three days and was poisoned. Badly injured and weak he lay dying on the battlefield, all his strength leaving his body. The land was flooded with blood. It had become a lake. Using the last of his breath Dobrynja called out, "Moist Mother Earth, please open and swallow up the blood of the dragon." He thrust a stick into the ground and a huge fissure opened up draining away the blood.

Suddenly he remembered his mother’s gift of the seven-fold silken whip and used it on his own body. Whisking away the remaining dragon’s blood, the poison left him and his wounds healed.

Dobrynja travelled through the dragon’s labyrinth of caves finding hundreds of captives and rescued them. Prince Vladimir’s niece was discovered, unharmed, in the final cave. Dobrynja the hero led the people back to their joyful families and returned the beautiful girl to her uncle in Kiev.

Cthulhu, Yog Sothoth, Azazoth and Other Cute Things

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 13:56:00 +0000

(Pen and ink drawing of Cthulhu by Susanne Iles)

Back in the day I would earn my slices of bread and butter writing and illustrating for various fan zines. It was great fun but very difficult work because most of the zines paid little more than magazine copies and pennies. The other day I was organizing my old files when I came across some pen and ink magazine work I'd completely forgotten about. The pictures were part of a series I did regarding the mythos of Cthulhu and the author H.P.Lovecraft's references to the mysterious grimoire, The Necronomicon.
(Azazoth, pen and ink drawing by Susanne Iles)

The Old Ones featured here were creatures of horror and nightmare.They were inhabitants of long forgotten times and places where gods, both good and evil, roamed the earth. They moved through our world through our deepest fears and night terrors.

(Pen and ink drawing of Yog Sothoth by Susanne Iles)

I mulled over these drawings with a great deal of thought and wondered exactly how one could possibly soothe such horrifying gods of old. What could one do to appease the tormented horror that is a Denizen of the Deep, like Cthulhu for instance?

I thought some fresh air and a holiday in the countryside might be enough to turn a bad mood into a good one, so I invited the high priest of the Great Old Ones for a little visit and things turned out just fine.
Doesn't he look happy? (and cute? just look at those little wings!) Nothing like a cuddle and some sunshine to dispel the shadows.
Cthulu is now a happy go lucky little fellow who will be catching the next flight out of Ireland to the United States where he can spread his wings and delight in being care free for once in his darkly fantastical life.
(Cthulu doll, hand sewn felt designed and created by Susanne Iles)

Mercury Retrograde and the Divine Trickster

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Sun, 18 Jan 2009 20:27:00 +0000

Have you been feeling a little mixed up lately? Have your communications fallen flat despite your best intentions? Are emotions running high? If you are into astrology you might just want to blame your recent confusions on Mercury Retrograde. The cosmic trickster is at it again, starting his shenanigans on January 11, 2009 with no reprieve to be seen until February 1st, 2009. By Valentine's Day there should be some smooth sailing once again. (Thank goodness! Especially for those who are hoping to express their love to someone special on that day...if Mercury was still in retrograde who knows what could happen?)

The trials of moving through Mercury in retrograde reminded me of an essay I had written about a Divine Trickster from the Yoruba tribe who is not only a gatekeeper but a rather mischievous teacher as well. The story of Eshu may be found below. (For those of you interested in the bibliographical references used, please feel free to visit the original essay at my BoneSinger website.)

Eshu, An Afro-Caribbean Divine Trickster by Susanne Iles

The Divine Trickster

The Divine Trickster born of ancient myth and found in many cultures across the face of the world, is sometimes known as the Coyote, Raven, Rabbit or Fox. His form changes depending on language and culture. The Yoruba peoples of West Africa, however, know him as Eshu, the divine messenger, who is both loved and feared for his mischief, generosity and hard lessons.

Eshu is considered the most important of the four warrior gods called the Orisa. Travelling through time in the hearts of the slaves taken to the Americas, the Orisa became known to the Portuguese as the Orixa and to the Spanish as the Orisha. The ancient religion which devotes prayerful worship to the Orisa is properly known as Regla de Ocha, meaning "The Rule of the Orisha".

Duality

The name Santeria or "The Way of the Saints", was a colonial term introduced by the Spanish yet is a description commonly used today. Eshu himself went through a variety of changes as he travelled from culture to culture, being called Eleggua in Cuba and Exu in Brazil. No matter what his name, he is a powerful deity whose dual nature flickers with the nuances of day and night, light and dark, cruelty and kindness, creation and destruction - the Divine Trickster.

The Trickster Eshu can be a teacher most kind and cruel. One old story tells of him undertaking a mischievous journey wearing a tall hat, red on one side, white on the other. Making not a sound he walked between two friends, one seeing the white side of his hat, the other seeing the red. Later in the day the two friends spoke to one another about the mysterious man in the hat. Surprisingly, they began to bicker about the colour of the hat. White! Red! The bickering turned to blows, as each man professed to know the right answer and demanded to be acknowledged as the victor in the violent discussion. The Trickster Eshu chuckled at the sight and walked over to the men, now bloodied and angry, and showed them his hat - red on one side and white on the other. He was delighted by the fact they would fight about something as ridiculous as the colour of another man's hat, ruining their long-standing friendship in the process.

A Powerful Teacher

Taking pleasure in testing the strengths and weaknesses of mankind, he provides the lesson of making the right choices in life. He can be found at the crossroads and can see in all directions, watching carefully those who do wrong. His punishment is swift but he can be kind as well, sitting judgment and viewing all sides of a situation.

Eshu is seen as sitting at the threshold, guarding the many doors and roads which make up the human journey through life. We move through the doors of childhood to adulthood, single life to partnerships, mundane to magic, despair to happiness, birth to death, all the while hoping we are taking the right door or right path which greets us along the way. In Yoruba spirituality, Eshu owns the roads and can provide opportunities and direction. When asked kindly Eshu can point the way but people must still decide for themselves which way to travel. Although Eshu can direct someone along a path, it may be a sunlit journey of opportunity or a dark, thorny trail if it is decided a lesson is to be learned.

Care and Respect

As the messenger between Heaven and Earth Eshu communicates the prayers of mankind, not only to the ears of the other Orisa but to the Creator god. Spiritual tradition requires Eshu to be honoured first in any ceremony if messages are to be heard and blessings received. Gifts of toys, candies, rum and gin are much appreciated by Eshu. In many homes, a figure representing the god is created and placed behind the front door. A child's toy representing youth and a walking stick symbolising old age are normally placed with him. The walking stick is painted in the two colours of the Trickster, either red and black or black and white, accented with eyes to remind people of his all-seeing nature. His presence as the gatekeeper ensures a balanced and safe home.

The Trickster archetype found in the deity Eshu reminds us of the care and respect we must have for all life. Life isn't just black and white, but contains shades of gray and all the colours of the rainbow. Though careful consideration and respect must be maintained, we cannot forget to make room for a small amount of chaos, the creative wellspring from which beauty and delight flow, where passions arise and the spices of life are experienced. The magic of Eshu wakes us up and teaches us to live life to its fullest potential. Although we must remember to be wary of the Trickster with his many names and guises, it suits us well to welcome him as a most powerful ally.

Contained

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Sat, 10 Jan 2009 12:23:00 +0000

Firstly, I want to thank all of you for your kind letters of concern wondering what I've been up to and where I've been. The last few weeks have been incredibly busy and dizzying, but all is good.

It was interesting for me to check my emails and discover this week's Illustration Friday topic is called "Contained", for indeed that is what I've been feeling and dealing with on so many levels.

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary online describes the meaning of the word "Contain" as follows:

con·tain

Pronunciation:: \kən-ˈtān\
Function:: verb
Etymology:: Middle English conteinen, from Anglo-French cunteign-, cuntyen-, stem of cuntenir, from Latin continēre to hold together, hold in, contain, from com- + tenēre to hold — more at thin
Date:: 14th century

transitive verb1: to keep within limits: as a: restrain , control contain her enthusiasm> b: check , halt <contain the spread of a deadly disease> c: to follow successfully a policy of containment toward contain Communism> d: to prevent (as an enemy or opponent) from advancing or from making a successful attack 2 a: to have within : hold b: comprise , include contains several new clauses>3 a: to be divisible by usually without a remainder b: enclose , boundintransitive verb:
to restrain oneself

Incredible events, family health issues, being pulled in so many directions artistically, creatively, physically, magically, spiritually etc. may seem to express the feeling and results of expansive chaos. Instead my world became more enclosed, enfolded, bound and supported.

Although I was unable to reply to everyone who wrote, I want to thank you all for your letters and caring about me and my family. Your thoughts and words truly made a difference.

Moleskine Sketch: Blossom

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 13:56:00 +0000

There are times in life where we may feel as though we are unfolding, or unraveling. Time spirals by and we wonder if we are going to be able to do the things we hope to do. If we stop panicking and allow the unraveling threads to guide us, we might discover the unexpected.

(Please forgive the shadowy scan! I will re-scan the image and edit this post when the Moly makes its way back across the big pond...it is somewhere in Europe at the moment being added to by another Moly_x_45 artist)

Lest We Forget: Remembrance Day

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 09:01:00 +0000

There is evidence poppy cultivation dates back to the Stone Age. Potions to induce sleep, transformation, and ecstatic dreams were probably the source of one of the plant’s names, "the flower of forgetfulness". Even the poet Homer was known to succumb to the poppy’s potent charms.

In Greek mythology, Hypnos, the god of sleep, created a poppy drink to quell the grief of the corn goddess Demeter whose daughter, Persephone, had been abducted to the underworld. While Demeter mourned, famine covered the land. Hypnos’s drink forced Demeter into a state of gentle slumber and healing. She awakened comforted, and the world was made green again. To this day some farmers sow poppies among the corn plants to ensure a healthy harvest.

It is little wonder then the poppy was used to ease the pain of battle wounds. As long as there has been war, so too have there been stories about the poppy as a symbol of sacrifice and memory. From the raids of Genghis Khan to the heart of Flanders Fields, blood-red poppies nod in silent prayer over the graves of many brave souls.

(from my essay, The Storied Garden, Planting the Seeds of Myth)

Apep, The Egyptian Dragon of Chaos

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 10:41:00 +0000

(from my website: http://www.bonesinger.com/essayapep.html, for purchase inquries please follow this link http://www.bonesinger.com/apep.html)

Apep, The Egyptian Dragon of Chaos by Susanne Iles

Throughout the ancient mythological texts of Egypt, the theme of resurrection and rebirth can be found time and again. In one such myth, we are introduced to the mighty and dangerous dragon, Apep. A mysterious creature bearing many names, Apep was also known as Apophis, Aaapef and Rerek. Some people, however, preferred this serpent-like dragon to remain Nameless. Whatever his true name may have been, it was kept secret so as not to grant any further power to this tremendous being. The power contained in Apep represented the chaotic elements of the universe, the destructive and dark side of Nature.

Although later mythologies described Apep as evil, the early myth-tellers were aware life was the coexistence of all opposite values. True power could be seen in the contrasting elements of Apep as the destructive darkness, and Re, the heat and light giving sun-god traveling through the sky in his solar barque.

Death and Rebirth

Each day Apep attempted to disrupt the passage of the solar barque carrying the sun-god Re, as it traveled from east to west across the sky. Storms, darkness, rain, eclipse - all were weapons used against Re's fiery presence in the heavens. The dying god Re made his way to the Underworld as night shrouded daylight, only to be reborn each and every morning at sunrise. The battle between Re and Apep was played out daily as a very visible symbol of the natural cycle of life and death.

Protective Entourage

Many ancient hieroglyphs show Re in his solar barque surrounded by a protective entourage of gods and goddesses. The gods Set and Mehen battled the dragon with knives and spears. Osiris, Lord of the Underworld, along with his wife/sister, Isis, and the goddess Nephthys, used prayers and supplication as an affirmation of their protective powers. On Earth, the Egyptians and their priests would recite spells and prayers to help ensure Re's continued victory over the darkness.

May the Victory over Darkness continue.

My Cheese Wheel Has Arrived!

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Sat, 11 Oct 2008 11:31:00 +0000

Okay, so it wasn't a Swiss cheese wheel. But it could have been. Look at the size of the bag the postman brought me recently! I'd won a selection of books from Al Libris and had been waiting with great anticipation for their arrival. Those of you who know me, know I am a bibliophile who would live in a library if I could. I had so much difficulty deciding on titles, but thought I would go for esoteric ones I wouldn't generally consider purchasing because of their cost. My choices?

1) Alchemy & Mysticism from the Hermetic Museum, edited by Alexander Roob
2) The Hermetic Tradition- Evola
3) Magic Power Language Symbol- Patrick Dunn
4) Three Books of Occult Philosphy- Henry Cornelius Agrippa
5) The Complete Magician's Tables- Stephen Skinner
6) My Neighbour Totoro Picture Book- Hayao Miyazaki
7) Sengoidelc-David Stifter
8) Worlds of Amano- Amano

Bestill my heart!

To top off my bookish bliss, the amazing Ellen over at Keynoter sent me a surprise in the post a day ago. Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. It's a funny and tender book and a nice balance to the heavier research books I spend most of my time exploring.
Chewy got something in the mail too. (Doesn't he look excited?) Unfortunately for him I don't think it is either a cheese wheel or books.

Somnia a Deo Missa

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 10:48:00 +0000

I'm very excited to be part of an International Moleskine Sketchbook exchange. Our group, moly_x_45, is a facinating group of artists from around the world who will be creating artwork in a Japanese fold Moleskine sketchbook. I can't wait to see what kind of art will emerge as the books travel around the globe!

I finally received my lovely little moleskine and created a sketch entitled, "Somnia a Deo missa" which translates into English from Latin as, "Dreams sent by God". My dreams often shape the artwork I do; I feel compelled to draw and paint them to try to make sense of the symbolism that fills my sleeping hours.

What Would You Add to Your Library?

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Sun, 07 Sep 2008 08:51:00 +0000

I woke up to an amazing email and am beside myself with bibliophile's joy! It turns out I won a shopping spree over at Alibris. It's a great place to purchase used books, rare books, out of print books, audio books...you get the picture! (have I mentioned I love books?)

I started making a wish list and am considering a translation of the Book of Abramelin, the Complete Magician's Tables, hard copies of Agrippa's works, Mr.Funky's Super Crochet Wonderful (just had to throw that one in!), maybe even the Death Note series ...I just don't know where to start!

Please feel free to email me with your favourite recommendations!

*So many books, so little time...I feel faint.*

World Tree - Thought and Memory

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 13:58:00 +0000

In Norse mythology the god Odin has two ravens named Huginn (Thought) and Muninn (Memory). Each morning he releases the birds to fly through the skies and across the face of the earth, returning in the evening to tell him about all the sights they'd seen and all the news they'd heard. In one of the mythological poems of the Poetic Edda, the Grimnismo l, Odin reflects on the birds saying,

Stanza 20:
"O'er Mithgarth Hugin and Munin both
Each day set forth to fly;
For Hugin I fear lest he come not home,
But for Munin my care is more."

As I move through life I wonder and wander between both thought and memory. Which one do I value most? One belongs to my mind, the other belongs to my heart. I can't decide between the two; I'm afraid I would be entirely lost without them.

"Memories"

Josh Cassidy - Olympian

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Fri, 08 Aug 2008 09:37:00 +0000

Today's blog entry is a heartfelt wish of good luck for my cousin, Josh Cassidy, who will be representing Canada in the Wheelchair 800m, 1500m, and 5000m races in Beijing.
We'll be watching and cheering for you Josh!

Releasing My Inner Nerd

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 10:57:00 +0000

Well, the secret is out. It appears I have taken the final step into Official Nerdism. I'm not only a symbolist painter, but at times I am also a nerdist. Nerdism generally afflicts males, but I know there are many females out there who are proud to embrace their inner geek.

What started out as a child's Poppet, quickly evolved into a retro-look-manga-esque-SuperSpaceGuyCute doll. My mind must have been wandering as I was listening to the LocoRoco theme song, and wondering when my Crisis Core order was going to arrive. This little fellow is hand sewn and painted, and is awaiting both a space ship and a robot companion. Who knows? Maybe I'll add some aliens and cyborgs into the mix.

My personal theme song (on so many levels, I have to admit) is this song by Weird Al Yankovic.
(Play it loudly for maximum effect :) )

Painting Genesis

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 15:19:00 +0000

There is something about the longer stretch of daylight that inspires a creative burst of energy for the artist. In the dark days of winter I will methodically stick to a single task and see it through to its end. There's a silent and meditative quality to the shortened day.

In summer however, my sketchbooks burst with life, the radio is on in the studio, and several paintings are lined up to dry against the wall. I am still attentive to each painting as they come into being, but my actions are more circular as I move from piece to piece. Painting in the summertime becomes a dance.

The following photographs show the raw beginnings of three paintings currently coming to life in the studio: Dissolution, Persephone and Uncegila. Thank you for being here as their stories unfold.

Here Comes the Rain Again

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 09:30:00 +0000

Painting: Strait by Susanne Iles

I once read that Saint Agricola of Avignon was the Saint to pray to for rain. We had so much dry weather I'm sure the farmers were begging him for some relief. Their prayers were answered. Now I wish they would ask him to turn off the tap! ...or at least intersperse the deluge with a wee bit of sunshine.

Our summer has been cast adrift in a sea of rain...it is fine when one needs to be productive indoors...you know how it is...all that house cleaning, projects to finish, books to read, paintings to paint etc. And the garden is looking lovely, lush and green. Except that most of the green is now coming from a joyous explosion of rain-loving weeds.

They say like attracts like. Perhaps it's just mind over matter? (thinking sunny thoughts, thinking sunny thoughts, thinking sunny thoughts....)

Mimameid, Axis Mundi, The World Tree as a Woman

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 19:37:00 +0000

When I was very small the gift I treasured most in the world was a black,fine-tipped magic marker. It was even sweeter when accompanied by a cheap multi-pack of rainbow coloured felts. When they ran out of colour you could pop the ends off and trickle warm tap water into them to extend their weakly colourful lives for just one more day. Such bliss!

As a teenager I loved drawing with dip pens...a collection of handles and nibs stained my walnut desk. Even to this day I love the feel of dip pens, technical pens and fountain pens. My fingers always seem to be stained with ink.

One day I swear I am going to splurge and get myself a Mont Blanc fountain pen, or "fine writing instrument" as they say. (sigh) ...the things that dreams are made of....

Sweet Indulgences~Coffee and Chocolate

susanne.iles@gmail.com (Susanne Iles) — Sat, 21 Jun 2008 17:54:00 +0000

(painting "Reflection Blue" by Susanne Iles)

Ah, there's nothing like a roaring wet and windy day to have an excuse to stay inside and indulge in a little laziness. Paintings call, sculptures wink, books beckon, and the enormous garden demands attention...but it is storming outside. Time for some good coffee and chocolate I say.

Now I have to admit, I do have a weakness for very strong and sweet coffee with a nibble of dark chocolate on the side. I try to assuage some of the guilt by buying fair trade and organic beans. My absolute favourites at the moment are Kicking Horse Coffee ( I get it from Canada whenever I can..it is so rich and robust...delicious!) and a locally purchased bean called EqualExchange (their dark roast coffee beans smell marvelous first thing in the morning!) A little Green & Black's dark chocolate.....and I'm good to go.

My favourite coffee recipe has to be Vietnamese Coffee. It's wonderful to drink hot on a misty wild day like today, but on a sunny day it is delectable on ice. Here's what you need to indulge:
Vietnamese Coffee Recipe

1) 6 ounces of strong, brewed coffee (make mine espresso please)
2) two tablespoons of condensed milk (make sure it is condensed, not evaporated milk)

Pour the two tablespoons of condensed milk in the bottom of a mug or glass. Carefully, carefully add the strong coffee while trying not to disturb the milk. Stir gently, then sip. The darker the coffee the better it tastes. You want to balance the strong, almost fruity taste of a dark roast (french roast works nicely too) with the sweet coolness of the milk.

Pair the coffee with a square of dark chocolate....try to buy 70% or more cocoa content, it melts at body temperature.....yum!

When you visit I'll be sure to put the coffee pot on for you. :)