Art Post: Hyndla

Hyndla by EjLowell

Hello again! This has been a long time coming.

A piece I’ve been meaning to do for a long time but finally had the oomph to complete for reasons. (I owed her a favor.) Another experiment in lineless art, much gloomier than the other one I did.

Hyndla is rather an obscure figure in the Eddas. She shows up in one short story and reads Ottar’s ancestry, before disappearing again. She’s a jotunn, albeit small and a bit fragile. She walks with a walking stick and has a pack of hounds and wolves at her call. Hyndla is a witch to some, a goddess to others; a goddess of bloodlines, curses, past-life exploration, and genetic weirdness of all kinds. She tends to be a bit grumpy and cold to outsiders, but can be warm and even motherly to those in her good graces.

She’s also my “matron,” though I kinda dislike the word. I haven’t found a better one yet. From my understanding of her she might as well be Frey’s opposite, which makes the fact that she’s the only goddess so far to claim me as one of her own rather amusing to me. I can see myself being something like her if I live past sixty. I already have to use a cane in the winter, sometimes.

Again, I’ll make an update post or a video at some point. Things have been wonky and I need to figure out how I want to say things.

See you soon, probably

Art Post: Freyr of the Vanir

Freyr of the Vanir by EjLowell

Holy crap it’s been a while. Sorry about that, guys. Nothing bad happened this time – nothing on the order of soul-close-friends dying, anyway – I just haven’t had much to talk about. Life’s been happening and I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Might update soon.

A personal (I guess??) piece for Ingvi-Frey, lord of peace and good seasons. and pants I mean plants. Whenever the sunflowers and tiger lilies start blooming I think of him, and I haven’t done an art for him in a while.

I went out for an impromptu picnic with my lovely Moose man the other day and it was just so peaceful and warm, birds were chatting and bumble bees kept checking in to say hello (and scare the crap out of me), and all I could think of was, “this is Frey. This is what he’s all about. Peace and laughter and loving moments shared with friends and family.” We sat under a tree which is actually two trees twisted up together and surrounded by a bed of clover. It was hot as heck out, as summer on the front range tends to be, but it was so… Frey. I wish I could take that feeling and distill it, stick it into a bottle, and wear it forever. Give it to those who need it more than me.

Hi, btw, for those of you who don’t know I am actually rather devoted to this particular deity. He stands for so much that I try to stand for, that I try to be. He represents a version of masculinity that I deeply admire – giving without being pushy, protective without being possessive, friendly without being obnoxious, strong without feeling the need to prove it or show it off, respectful and kind toward all people – and working on this piece for him lit me up from the moment I started sketching it. I don’t do lineless art very often; it just takes so long to do, so I tend to reserve it for special pieces. This is in thanks to him for all of the things that have been going well lately, all of the crap I’ve been trying to sort out emotionally and mentally, all of the courage I’ve found whilst digging in the depths of hopelessness, and hope that I might actually have the wherewithal to follow the paths I can’t help but stare at from a distance because I’ve been so scared of being judged for taking them.

That got a little weird but I hope someone finds some peace in the picture, at least. Peace and Good Seasons to ya’ll.

Aside: And guess what just happened while I was getting ready to post this? A friend asked for help. Spiritual help. That. Was. WHAT?! I still get flabbergasted when shit like this happens!!

Storm Water, Anyone?

So we had a bit weather yesterday!

And by that I mean most of my county got flooded and/or hailed on by a rather powerful thunderstorm. It rained, hailed, and thundered like the dickens out here and I managed to fill a 20 oz. bottle with storm water and hail. In five minutes. Everything’s fine today but yesterday the park was flooded to the point where my sister and I spotted a duck swimming across what would normally be a sidewalk.

I’m about to leave the bottle – it’s glass, btw, dunno if that matters to anyone reading – out in my window for a few days so it can get a full charge of moon and sunlight, provided the clouds scoot a little. Obviously I’m also going to filter the absolute hell out of it and possibly boil it for safety before I actually use it for anything. Or at least anything regarding contact with my own skin or tools (e.g. charged baths or charged paint water… actually that last one isn’t a half-bad idea).

Which is my problem, actually. I don’t have much of a clue what I’m going to use it for, yet, since I’ve never had this much storm water in the same place before – I live in a normally arid part of Colorado – but I’m excited to have it regardless. I’ve also not really been one for ritual spellcasting and potion-making in the past, since I prefer on-the-fly practical shtuff, but I’m feeling a rather strong urge to work some “get off my lawn” type spellcraft toward a certain individual who keeps gumming up the works in terms of scheduling lately. I’m thinking storm water will be a good thing to use for a bit of zap. Hell, with how much it flooded I wonder if I could built a proverbial moat.

Anyway. Do ya’ll use storm water in your practices? If so, what for? (I might steal a few ideas while my brain is percolating.)

May 8 2017 (1)

Behold! The desert is now a swamp.

Aside: Quick Localisations of Four Rune Poems

Read as: I like playing with metaphors and wanted to make sense of some funky translations. This may or may not have been my life for the past few days.

Disclaimer: I am not a professional linguist. I just play with words.

Fehu

“Fé vældr frænda róge;
føðesk ulfr í skóge.”

Translation:
“Wealth is a source of discord among kin;
the wolf grows up in the forest.”

My understanding:
Knowing your own worth can be controversial;
Those who don’t lose themselves in others.

Uruz

“Úr er af illu jarne;
opt løypr ræinn á hjarne.”

Translation:
“Slag comes from bad iron;
The Reindeer races over frozen snow.”

My understanding:
Burning yourself out accomplishes nothing good;
Go steady and you will not fall.

Thurisaz

“Þurs vældr kvinna kvillu,
kátr værðr fár af illu.”

Translation:
“Giant causes anguish to women;
misfortune makes few men cheerful.”

My understanding:
Don’t belittle what others go through;
Nobody enjoys being in pain.

Ansuz

“Óss er flæstra færða
for; en skalpr er sværða.”

Translation:
“Estuary is the way of most journeys;
but a scabbard is of swords.”

My understanding:
A meandering tale will get you far;
Sharp words stay in you.


All poems and translations were referenced from ragwedforge.com

Also this experiment was inspired by the work of Jackson Crawford, in particular the “Cowboy Hávamál.” Someday I will do the whole Elder Futhark. Probably.

Aside: Why the Marmot, Though?

Weird title for a weird thing.

Long story short – this is an aside, after all – I got bit by a marmot of all things. In a dream, mind you, I don’t go around trying to poke these things in real life. Though, I have seen one in real life and it was quite cute!

Continue reading

Hello, Empathy, My Old Friend

… I’ve come to talk with you again.~ ♪♫

Anyway.

So it might seem a little bizarre for someone like me – spiritually inclined and whatnot – to have a moment of, “Oh yeah. I forgot about that,” regarding something like empathy, or high sensitivity in general. Guess who has two thumbs and forgot they were an empath? Me.

Continue reading