Sunday, November 22, 2009

Witchy Woman

This group of prose and images will take up a few blog pages, but since I've only been posting every-other-month that shouldn't bother my visitors. Read to the last entry dated on this day--the poem Beautiful Branches--and the story will be told. I will say that the images are a part of a new art series named "Witchy Women," except for this first one. It has actually been used several times beginning this summer in real ads on eBay.

Faintly Relaxing


Hurricane Ike Wand Chant

Mighty wind through branches broken
left behind a precious token.

A creation from the hurricane
will shield me from the wind and rain.

When life brings another storm
I’ll chant a prayer to lock out harm.

Stroke the wand, dispel my fear.
Let no danger come near here.


MiddleAge Pointing

Magic Wand For Sale

eBay Add: Handmade Nature-Shaped Storm-Wood Magic Wand Seeks Owner

The tree called out to me for about nine months before I responded-- both the live Crepe Myrtle and the dead branches that were ripped off.

Long after the drama and trauma of Hurricane Ike, I kept thinking how beautiful the branches were of the flowering tree that chased me off my porch during the storm. I was trying to get my 'outside' dog to come inside and I sat on the porch cajoling him. The storm was about at its peak, and I had to sit in the chair to keep it from flying away. Soon branches of this large beautiful tree were spinning toward us and across the open porch. When that happened... my dog decided to follow me inside. Quickly and without much encouragement.

Months later, while searching the Internet for Val Kilmer movies, I came across an image of the fairy wand used in the film “Willow.” I admired the lovely contours of the little branch, and somewhere in the back of my mind it reminded me of some of the shapes in the broken crepe myrtle limbs. For months these limbs were piled in stacks around my house, in the country, and on occasion they were put on bonfires, but I felt a pull to do something with them. I kept trimming and sorting and thinking. Then during one cleansing fire, it hit me. All those piles of branches were piles of wands and staffs calling out to be given new life even though the flow of sap had been quelled. Their energy was still strong and their wood seasoned.

I'm somewhat psychic and believe in magic, although I am not a witch. Not unless it is a birth right and not a choice. It is my understanding that it is a religion that is chosen, not a condition one is born with, although I've often felt very witchy. It seems to be in my blood, a sensitivity to the earth and all her blessings.

I have, now, smoothed, sanded and oiled many wands. Answering their call to be reborn into the realm of directing magic, I gave them a kind of baptism, letting their magic free, instead of remaining bound up inside deadwood. I have helped anchor them to the core of this planet and crown them in the infinite universe. They are waiting to be found and the process continued-- to find the person meant for them.

Celtic lore is infused with tree mythology. I only recently began to look into the rich history of ancient beliefs relating to curing the sick, increasing fertility, cleansing the spirit, divination, enhancing psychic powers. Different parts of the tree being used in all manner of medicine and ritual. My intuition about these wands is they are protectors and want to encourage action toward well being and balance. I believe that each wand will find its owner, but I have been chosen to help.

No harm will come. No harm will be done.

© Vera Charline Wareham

WhiteHair ThirdEye Crossing

I need to choose between these two images for the series. On the one hand I like the vivid colors because the images become clearer and sharper as the woman ages. But... on the other hand, I like the more subdued and fading image of one crossing into another world. The softer colors seem to "go better" with the other images also, but that is not the main thing. I need some help. Leave me a comment.

Beautiful Branches


the storm
a gift
was born
a broken limb
a twitch
a hitch
a blessing
to me,
the witch
who didn't know
she was one

growing from
fertile soil
in my front yard
a spirit tree
touched my soul
as if to be

for my protector

its own
with embers of
soaked in the rain
of hurricane
cracking firewood
sang out to me
to be
a majick wand

June 14, 2009