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The Silver Bough

There is another world that exists in the mists

Alive is a land which lurks in the mist

Afar is a font where the fairy folk fly

Many are the men who murmur, “It does not exist.”

For fear of the foe who flit by the eye


Some say the secret to seeing the fae

Is to speak what you seek at the end of the day

As the daylight dusk darkens & purples the sky

The stars start to sparkle & you solemnly say:

“Ethereal elves, spirits & sprites, pixies & brownies and fairies delight

Dryads & naiads, sirens & sylphs;

Tuatha de Danann, Come visit tonight!

A light hum emanated for the dew covered daisies and daffodils springing in the meadow

A glinting, gleaming gossamer flicker of flying, flashing feathery fluff

Was the only glimpse of the sundrenched lemon drop sprite

Spinning lazily in the early morning light.


As the slow, sultry summer sings sunny, slothful Saturday

The shadows sweep silently, stealthily, sinkingly, towards sunset

The twinkling twilight tells its tale of the tail end of the day

And darkness descends.


When dusk’s disc disappears, drowning in darkness

Shadow upon shadow shields the secrets seeking solace, silently safe from sight

Never knowing comfort Hardly hearing howling horrors

Hiding, biding, biting

crawling, calling, bawling

Through the night.

Falling fearful foul, freak fancies flying; filled with fiery fright.

Call the faeries all the fae, luminous and bright

glimmering with glamour

glittering and gossamer

and glowing with delight

Banishing the  banshee

Shining hope and joy

And life & love & light.



On that moonless dark night

Oh, how the nightmares come

In mists and in shrouds

With long curving fangs

And glistening malevolent eyes

Beating their bat wings

The gargoyles growling tails

Twitching they descended upon the babe, to feast upon his fear

The Fae, they were waiting

Ready with bows & blades

& pikes & spear to defend the boy child from the demonic host

In that babe’s room of smiling suns & plush bunnies, the battle ensued

Silver flashed in the dim light and arrows flew

Sharp teeth & claws, forked tails & gleaming eyes

The battle was fought and shone in the sleeping babe’s dreams

Shrouded in shadow, the muffled thumps and clash of blades frightened the child

As any haunting horror

The grand production featured the fae and the demon battle

The violence fed the fevered visions of the innocent.

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My daughter Adelia is just 7 months old. I did this when she was pretty new. Probably at 3 mo. I love being a father. I am also father to 2 yr. old Gabriel. Adelia, btw had just this moment, fallen asleep in my arms. She was fussy when I started this post, so I’m holding her in one arm & typing with the other.

Anyway, what I wanted to tell you is that she is developing such a great personality! She laughs and is tough and determined to work hard to sit up & crawl, and become chief justice of the Supreme Court. I swear she is already talking.

I love doing portraits of my children even if they are quick sketches. Lately, I have been working on a children’s book, and raising these two wonderful monsters, but I think I get the most personal enjoyment painting my children. Of course they love to participate and Gabriel has made many improvements to my drawings.

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Kali Nights

For my series of paintings, “Kali Night,” I have chosen as my subject matter, a stormy night. My inspiration comes from driving home from work one evening and seeing the sky lit up eerily beautiful and ominous. I was reminded of the Goddess Kali, who is a paradox of beauty, compassion, violence, love and is ultimately nearly as incomprehensible as the ultimate reality she represents. She has been worshipped for longer than recorded history, which is fitting since one interpretation of her name is “beyond time.”

Kali Nights

Kali is misunderstood in the west. Really she is the perfect boogeyman for Puritan Americans; She’s naked (being infinite and unfathomable makes it hard to find something in your size, besides, Kali is indifferent to human conventions), except for the skirt of human arms! (being pure energy, Kali/Shakti is the receiver of all action, these limbs represent those who have been liberated from karma) Also she is adorned by a necklace of skulls! (one for each letter of the Sanskrit alphabet. This is a very “Alpha & Omega symbol. Alphabets contain the seeds of everything that can be expressed, thus attributing to God all that exists. Also, it is the beginning and the end of everything, thus skulls are appropriate.)

Kali is really a compassionate mother whose fearsomeness represents the way in which she destroys evil and all that stands in the way of her devotee’s liberation from the bondage of self.

I choose a stormy night to represent Kali as a metaphor for her ominous and fearsome qualities as the Goddess is everywhere and the various experiences we have in life remind us of the myriad manifestations of the Goddess.

Kali Nights II
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I’ve Got a Pretty Good Teacher

My new circumstances make clear what I would have told you all along: My main purpose in life is to take care of my family and create. In the past, I have done these things via working full time like every other person who ever lived, but recently, my wife has decided to get a job, so she can get out, be social, allow me to spend more time with the children, giver her a break from being with the children, and show me how it’s done, as far as getting a good job that pays decently.

So now I’m spending time with the kids, but I haven’t had time to create. It’s difficult to do while they’re awake. Whatever daddy is doing, my son wants to do too. It’s awesome and humbling having someone look up to me so much. I honestly don’t remember ever feeling like that about my dad. I was a weird kid though. My mother said so.

Even though I would have told you my main purpose was to take care of my family, now that I’m home more, I feel weird about it. Not working full time makes me feel irresponsible. My kids are exhausting, and I don’t feel like I’m doing much more than being the adult in the room. I feel like I should be taking them to the park, but so far, it’s rained every day. I feel like I should be teaching him things, but he doesn’t pay attention in a teacher, student way; he picks things up. Sometimes he’ll mimick something I do in a way that is so uncanny, that it’s unnerving. I didn’t even realize I did that. (he likes to pretend he’s taking asprin when I do. Do I really take that much?) But he’s too young to make a turkey drawing by tracing his hand.

He loves to draw when I’m drawing, but he doesn’t want to try to actually draw anything, he’s two. I love him with all my heart like I never knew it was possible. He’s teaching me things, too, which is important. I’m learning to help him eat his meals, to make sure he has food to eat in between. I’ve learned I don’t have to have as much privacy when I’m peeing as I had previously believed. He’s learning to use a fork. So it’s a real give and take.

I’m looking forward to really learning how to be a good dad. I think I’m off to a good start. I’ve got a pretty good teacher.

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Dragon Manifesto

I am the Blue Dragon. I serve the Blue Light; whose physical manifestation is the Universe: the One Voice, the Eternal Word, the Infinite Sound. All things are revealed by the Light. All shadows are created by the Light. Love is the Way of the Light. Either one serves Love or one opposes Love. One cannot claim to serve Love through hate. Anger and fear are the absence of Love. Love is omnipresent. There is nowhere it is not. It does not shirk; it does not hide. To be unable to feel its presence is delusion. It is we who turn away from the Light. It is constant and never abandons us. It is The Energy; The Force; The Power. The Source of all. Love is indiscriminate. Love is not concerned with what name it is called, or what rituals it is worshiped by. Love does not favor one over another. Love does not punish. Love wants you to be happy and healthy. For this to happen you must conform to Love. Love cannot be ruled by you. You are a manifestation of Love. There is no intermediary.

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Merry Christmas Madonna Icon Card

mary xmas

This painting is reminiscent of icons from medieval times. It evokes the  symbolism used to convey information to a largely illiterate world. In those days, gold coins were beaten with hammers until they were paper thin and then glued to the surface as gold leaf. Gold immediately conveyed the importance of the subject and was used for halos of saints. The only thing more valuable than gold in these times was lapis lazuli, a stone that was a beautiful deep, rich blue in color. This stone was ground into powder and made into paint to clothe the Queen of Heaven; the mother of God: the Virgin Mary.

This holiday season, celebrate in style with a card made from this original painting.

card is 4×6 folded. blank inside. envelope included.

$5 each or 10 for $30 plus shipping

please fill out the form below with your name, email address, shipping address, and number of cards you would like.

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Tale of the Fae

Alaw’r Dŵr Prepares Her Attack

When a man sets out to tell a tale, he wants to entertain with adventure, action and fun. He cares not of lofty goals or higher ends. Yet tales have a way of telling themselves; at least when they are told correctly. Unseen turns and hidden paths reveal themselves with each step. Shadows shift as our eyes adjust, and then there is a flash of light as confusing as the darkness before. In the end we may have told a different story than we set out to, but it is the one that wanted to be told. We care not, so long as there is adventure, action and fun.
The road was familiar even at night. The houses, the neighborhood, the shops and bars were all known. This was home. Wandering home from somewhere, he became lost. The streetlights cast a garish glow that did little to dispell the stark and encroaching shadows. Once again he was alone in the night in a strange place. The breeze chilled his skin as it stroked his face and moaned through the sycamores. Leaves rustled and unseen whispers could be heard. Without warning a horse seemed to bear down on him, rider unseen. It was too close, too sudden; he would be trampled by the mindless beast.
Rhyder sat bolt upright in bed. Another nightmare. His wife beside him, his son in his crib across the room. The feeling of fear and disorientation hung over him, but slowly faded. He drank the water from the table by the bed and drifted back to sleep. Moments later the baby, his son, woke screaming. Rhyder leapt up and picked up his son and held him to him. The crying was unconsolable. When at last he had calmed his boy and gotten him back to sleep, he found that sleep for himself was elusive. With a heavy heart he realised his son had inherited his nightmares.

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the faerie TreeI am a scatterbrain. Maybe I have a condition: ADD or ADHD. I don’t know. I flit from subject to subject. Lately I have been concentrating on Faeries. I am in the process of writing and illustrating a children’s book about faeries. It will be written in part if not wholly in some form of verse. I could conceivably write it in verse and prose and claim the whole thing was “free verse” which in part took a prose like form. I’ve read some modern poetry which seems to me to be prose. Incidental reminiscing of mundane events, beautifully rendered and proffered as poetry in the latest poetry journals which I leave on the shelf unbought because I don’t identify with it. It doesn’t touch me or move me. So, whose going to identify with faerie poetry written in some archaic style that people don’t even read anymore? I will I guess.

I’ve eluded to my process before; it’s rather backwards. I’m sketching faeries, writing whimsical verse with a fountain pen in a beautifully bound sketchbook. I’m approaching my subject elliptically, sneaking up on it, as it were. My son has nightmares, so I’ve decided that I am going to have the faeries chase out the nightmares. That’s basically the plot as of now.faerie Knight

I’ve also discovered that the faeries wear armor and live kind of like gypsies; in fancy wagons and stuff. So, it’s slowly taking shape in the fog. The nightmares themselves may be creatures of the otherworld too. My hope is reading this book, children will go to bed, feeling they have the power to drive away nightmares. Psychologically, if one feels they need not fear nightmares, then that is precisely the case. It’s all very FDRian.

So, now I have to come up with the dark creatures, which shouldn’t be a problem, given the genre; there’s probably more scary creatures in the otherworld than friendly ones. I’ll probably have a child for the fae to protect, and maybe Danu herself will make an appearance. That’s why I started this post with the bit about being scatterbrained. I wanted to abandon the faeries and court the Goddess for a time; but in the space of a few paragraphs I see the two aren’t mutually exclusive. The Goddess by the way is Love. whether she is Danu, Devi, Gaia, Demeter or Isis. Or Jesus, or Krishna for that matter. Whatever name you worship: #alwayschooselove.wiccan-grail-001