I used to draw a lot before I got caught up with doing digital constructions. Here’s a drawing done in Prisma Color pencil then placed on a computer generated background.
Lori Gloyd (c) 2006
Though m’lady Emrys and I (faucon) met too late in life
to conceive a child of warmth and glee;
I did once say to her –
“every woman should hear at least once in her life –
lady, will you bear my child!”
and, as fertility rests in the soul as well,
and we have together produced
a ‘Child of Light’ …
and its care
shall consume our passion
evermore and now.
my words you already know –
and those written of a Priestess
on the Calabar “Early to the Temple”
are excerpts from poems sent to her …
Know her words also:
I will look into the dawning
To watch the faeries harvest dew,
touch the sidhe’s hearts a’spawning
sprites and pixies with wings of blue.
I will look upon the daybreak
just before the sun does rise
And gaze upon the misty Lake
to wait for a falcon to arrive
I will wander in the crystal morn
harping soundwaves on the wind
and revel in love newly born
and yet has ever been
In more ancient times fertility rites took many forms
such as Beltane and simpler survival needs –
certainly not following the rules of today.
Here is a story where my Gusari character Kiyan
is caught in a dance of a different sort.
faucon
…………………………………………………………………….
Maiden
The goats were a mistake, but Kiyan knew he must take some of the blame. When the word went out that he would perform magic and stories for the children of the village, those out in the high pastures herding goats decided to take a short cut. Unfortunately, the forest path went through his specially prepared camp. Now the pot of stew was filled with dirt and his khana pavilion was broken and torn. Even his mild disposition produced a sigh as he set about repairing his preparations. His many secret visitors would be disturbed if the camp was not perfect.
Thus he was somewhat distracted and his normal shaman sensitivity gave no advanced warning of the visitor’s approach. A slight shadow across the ferns and a small broken twig gave late warning. The Gusari tumbled aside and came up with drawn kama sword — trained reaction from past events. He found himself staring into the doe-like eyes of a young girl, though her exposed turn of calf and hint of budding breast beneath her shift caused him to upgrade his first appraisal. She stood quietly in the half shadow of a spruce and waited for his call. A slight breeze seemed to play with her hair, but it may have been a trick of the sunlight flickering through the waving branches. She looked at him without fear, while her steady eyes and slight smile told of a secret. Kiyan went into the center of the glade to sit on a rock and gave her a nod. She came with some hesitation.
“I come as a messenger of things I do not fully understand. My older sister has sent me.”
The Gusari had nothing to say, but gave her time to gather her thoughts.
“She has been married for two years now. My uncle was injured in a battle last year and this somehow affects their ability to have a child. She is living with great distress and yearning.” The girl looked down and played with the grass with her bare toes. “She will come to you tonight, after dark so that you can not see her or know her name. She is not comely and somewhat bashful, but said to tell you she is strong and passionate — that you will be pleased.”
Again, the Gusari had nothing to say, but nodded, partially soas not to embarrass her almost tearful eyes. She turned and walked slowly toward the path by the stream. The she stopped and laughed.
“If you are here in two years at the Spring Sharing, I will come too.”
Then the maiden skipped into the shadows and was gone.
Enchanteur’s Fertility Dance at the Folly.
by Heather Blakey
Dionysian Ecstasy
choreographed by Heather Blakey
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