Margaret's Well, Stratford upon Avon, Warwickshire

tannertan36
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Janaina Medeiros
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
DEAR READER

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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Mike Driver
Monterey Bay Aquarium
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if i look back, i am lost

Kaledo Art

oozey mess

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Discoholic 🪩
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@earthashdust
Margaret's Well, Stratford upon Avon, Warwickshire
Bercul's Well, Berkswell, Warwickshire
On the common, near the pear tree, a copse being circled by the headstones of Morris Men
Wells in Warwickshire
Ferns
Etymology: 🌿Pteridophytes from the Greek root pteri, meaning feather describing its feather-likefronds or leaves. 🌿Fern comes from the Anglo-Saxon fearn, which also means feather.
Cryptogams: plants that reproduce by spores, without flowers or seeds.
AKA: moonwort, fairy moss, maidenhair, Christmas, and ostrich. There’s the lady fern, the sensitive fern, the royal fern, the licorice fern, the cinnamon fern, the Venus-hair fern, and the bird’s-nest fern
Anne Carson, from “The Glass Essay”, Glass, Irony, and God
My first wonky embroidery.
I'm making a new chapbook about moss.
At the start of lockdown I made a three part podcast commissioned by the Pod and Tin Angel Arts. Just three little stories I like🌙
https://soundcloud.com/laureesheerman/sets/stories-podcast?ref=clipboard
Watch the fern
“Priestess of Delphi” by John Collier.
Islamic bindings,From Walters Art Museum
Hag
The Hag. Rider of hedgerows and chests. She conjures nightmares. The word “hag” is probably derived from haga from the Old English, meaning hedge. Hags (witches) were known for their “hedge-riding” abilities, for crossing the boundary of enclosed settlements into the wild forest and return safely. Generally it was thought that staying within the hedges was the safe and secure option and beyond was a dangerous wilderness. This can certainly be linked to the enclosure acts and 'housewifization of women' in the Eighteenth century. When hags were able to go beyond the hedges into this treacherous world and return unscathed they were thought to be colluding with dark forces when actually, they were just wise and canny enough to know their way around. The rural superstition still survives that by planting holly into your hedgerow you can foil witches because they are naturally repelled by holly. The word Hag, however, has other derivations including the Old Norse word hogg meaning gap. This origin points toward the hag's ability to travel between worlds with her “wizened” and “witchy” ways. This becomes increasingly interesting when thinking about hag stones (a stone with a naturally occurring hole through) which are found on beaches, near rivers and streams or anywhere close to water. Hag stones are traditionally used for protection and finders can wear them as necklaces, hang them above beds, above doorways and even in stables to protect from witchcraft and spells. The stones also offer protection from being hag ridden which involved a hag sitting on the chest of a sleeper giving them nightmares (from Middle English night + mære) and sleep paralysis. I love collecting hagstones and I have a double figure collection sitting along my bedroom windowsill. The photo above was found by a friend of mine on a beach in Sussex. It’s very big so I use it as a bookend and candle holder. Today the Hag is most commonly known as a ugly, old witch often depicted as grotesque, malevolent, and solitary.
Philomela
I’ve been thinking a lot about how women have told stories historically.
There are many variations of Philomela’s story, the most popular being the Tereus tragedy by Sophocles however her story is most developed in book VI of Ovid’s Metamorphoses.
Philomela was the daughter of King Pandion I and was the sister of Procne, who married King Tereus of Thrace. After five years of marriage Procne asked her husband if he could go and bring Philomela back from Athens because she was feeling homesick and wanted to be with her sister. Tereus agreed and travelled to Athens to escort Philomela back to be with her sister. However, on the way back he viciously raped her and threatened her not to say anything to her sister. When Philomela disagreed with him, he cut out her tongue and abandoned her in a forest telling his wife that her sister had, sadly, passed away.
Philomela, violated and mutilated is left powerless and alone but she is unwilling to be silenced; she sets up a loom and begins to weave an elaborate tapestry that tells the story of her journey, her rape, and the abominable behaviour of Tereus. She gives the tapestry to an old woman to deliver to Procne. Procne, incensed by her husband’s behaviour frees her sister and together they begin to plot their revenge. Procne in seeing the likeness between her son, Itys and his father, kills the boy, cooks him in a stew and serves it to her husband. When Tereus has finished eating Philomela enters, holding the head of Itys and Tereus becomes aware of the horrific deed that has been done to him. In absolute fury he pursues the sisters, axe in hand, ready to kill. The sister’s flee, praying to the Gods to be turned into birds to escape the rage of Tereus.
Procne then transforms into a swallow and Philomela, a nightingale; both birds known for their beautiful songs. Although Ovid gives songs to both of the sisters at the end of their story, in reality it is only the male nightingale that sings and so, Philomela is technically silenced once again.
We see that “communication could transcend the human voice” in Philomela’s tapestry woven to depict her rape and mutilation and thus, denounce the rapist. We see something similar in Titus Adronicus. Lavinia’s tongue and hands are removed to prevent her revealing the identity of her violators. Determined, she points to the passage in Ovid’s Metamorphoses which describes Tereus’s rape of Philomela and then guides a staff using her mouth and arms to write the names of her attackers in the sand. Whether women have been silenced by mutilation or socially excluded from literary and artistic culture we have always found a way of telling and exchanging stories.
Moving through heather, moss, rock. Consumed by cloud.
Taken from the devil’s chair in the Shropshire Hills.
Cropped image from René-Antoine Houasse - Apollon et Daphne.
Photos by Adele M Reed http://www.adelemreed.co.uk/ Taken during a residency exploring the Hag archetype.
A series of double exposed black and white photos investigating the entanglements between landscape and the female body.