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Shane Odom
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Sculptural leather Mythical Masks for the wearing and display. Adornments for the hair and jewelry for the body. Ornaments for your tree and oddiments for your life. www.etsy.com/shop/MythicalDesigns
Toggle Commented Nov 25, 2017 on In the gift-giving season at Myth & Moor
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Certainly not the only one in the Mythic Arts who loves them. In fact, living where we do, in Appalachia, in Cumberland MD, with the Delfest event, that brings together Jam Bands, Bluegrass, Newgrass and others, they are favorite of many of our friends. Also, they reflect the Rainbow scene, and thriving Appalachian hippie communities. Thanks. Gonna listen this morning.
Toggle Commented Feb 9, 2015 on Tunes for a Monday Morning at Myth & Moor
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Late to the tellings again, as is so my want, but thought to share one small morsel of tradition. My family recently of France on one side, and long of the South on the other, eats Black-eyed Peas and Sauerkraut for luck on New Year's Day. Both are Southern Traditions, the peas likely hailing from the Africans that brought the dish into our culture, when themselves were forcefully brought in. I do love that. The idea, of cultures and influence, and luck being carried over, even among those cause such bad luck on so many. I will eat them, with joy, and a bit cornbread, slathered in butter.
Toggle Commented Dec 30, 2014 on A Winter's Tale at Myth & Moor
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You can find it on Spotify.
Toggle Commented Feb 24, 2014 on Tunes for a Monday Morning at Myth & Moor
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I read this, and then this came out: Your heart should be breaking for places you have never known. Your temples are filled, with chapels you have never knelt in. Such wonders there are, in all the world such glories that this short life can never see. Each one a glimmer of candles in the darkness. A reflection of stain glass on darkend floor. We convey in spare sentences the breath of a moment. Our hope is that our words will carve stones on the minds to come. Only then can we know that all the altars of the world are laid on our mantle. Our creations are but smoke climbing into the air, desert smudge carrying vaporious visions. It is in our hands to set this table, we are priests behind the screen. We let the chalice fall from our fingers, a spilling of spirit for all to see.
Toggle Commented Jan 28, 2014 on The talismans I hold... at Myth & Moor
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I need to break the rules. She wrote in time for this, and left it on my desk, and it was my failing to not post it. So if I may, my ten year old wanted to write at least one. We used the poetry challenge as part of our homeschool this week. She struggles with poetry. Mixing prose and poetry up. Oddly, with much writing and story work on paper. Any one who knows Ellawyn knows that she has vast tales. Complicated plays come out of her, she calls them "my games" and assigns roles for all her friends, and directs stage acts on empty Renfest theaters. I think she is so full of stories, that when asked to write them down, they get clogged up and stuck. So, she struggles. Here is her Snow Queen. Snow Queen's Potions © 2014 by Ellawyn Odom (age 10) The cold wind blows, whirring the snow on her castle. The frost giants march, keeping intruders out. Inside, she bakes potions and casts spells, her icy lips murmering forgotten words. She finds a raven, and kissing it thrice, drops it in a pot. She is no ordinary witch. She is the Snow Queen.
Toggle Commented Jan 19, 2014 on Winter Poetry Challenge: Day 3 at Myth & Moor
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First, that I am replying to MOM, is the best ever. You are, as you know, and it so lovely. Thank you for being so. Also, that Jane Yolen did this, in of itself, and affirmation. An anointing. you know. Spit on palms and touched to the brow. Well, I never thought, and may not be worthy, but that is how these things work. May I share it?
Toggle Commented Jan 19, 2014 on Winter Poetry Challenge: Day 5 at Myth & Moor
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So, Terri, thank you. I just knew you would pick this subject. I had a feeling it would be hard. It was. My offering is poor, and wormy, and a bit badly shaped, but it is most truly from the heart. So glad it's out, so I can just go read all these poems about a subject my life is built around. Thank you very much.
Toggle Commented Jan 19, 2014 on Winter Poetry Challenge: Day 5 at Myth & Moor
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So, it's after 11 PM here on the East coast of the US. I have thought much of the day on what to write. I was lost. Utterly nothing. Oh sure, there are couple of chants, and rhymes we sing around here. But the real peom remained hidden from me. Now, for those that know me personally, you see a bit of irony there. I am utterly in service to the image of the Wild Man, the Wose of the Wood and the Green Man, all bundled up together. Terri knows this, as do some friends. First and foremost is the many 100s of green men masks I sell each year. Reaching down deep and bringing this primordial image to life is how my family quite literally eats and has shelter. The Green Man and the wildness, in mask form is our bread and butter. Now, beyond that. Some know that I am part of a group that dresses like those fellows there in the photos at the beginning of the post. The Beneficent Order of the Greenman (B.O.G) is a life's work of mine. A group to encourage the wildness of man as a positive role model. That the verdant blessing is best, and we embrace it. Nothing really much. How men with leaves in their hair and acorns in their hands can evoke such emotions in so many is astounding. It speaks ever so greatly of the power of this image and how is is sense, felt and understood, not quite seen, and even not quite written about. That the very image of the Green Man and Wild man is elusive in our folklore, present, but never fully written out and metaphor laid to see, is part of this riddle. I will say, that once time, Jane Yolen said that having a bunch of Green Men sing blessings to her and bring acorns to her, was a favorite experience. That our own dear hostess and Faerie Goddess mother, Terri Windling expressed similar sentiments. That is humbling. That is important. That makes me want to go down on my knees among old leaf litter and thank gods of the forest long since lost. It wasn't me that did that. That gave them that shudder, as the antlers passed by. It's in our cells and our bones. It's written on our souls. So, spending my life in service to this, you would think that a song/poem/rhyme to it would spill out like vines from a font. I have read many 100s of Green Man/Wildwose Poems, and songs, and hope, one day, to even publish a treasury of such. I can recite, from memory several of the best. The one quoted by Terri at the beginning, Sometimes a Wild God, is perhaps the best one ever written. My response to it is a body memory, as old as my carbon, and I have gone back to it several times. So, why can't I sprout one from my lips? Why doesn't the green word disgorge from me? Perhaps because of all of the above. Maybe I spent so much of my life, looking at this fellows leaf clad face, seeing stare back at me in the mirror and on the faces of my Brothers, that I can't seem to step to one side and draw what I see from there. I'm not sure. So, I thought I wasn't going to post anything. I found that ironic. I had been avoiding the poems here, hoping to let it come without the influence of so many words. Then, tonight, as small screech owl landed outside. I saw him in the light, and his eyes, reminded me. So, here it is. I would apologize for so many words of explanation, but I hope Terri will understand, that I will take liberties on this subject. I had to explain, why, yet, I still can't. Just shadows. That's all I have. So here it is. Ancient Father Friend. Wise Brother. You lie there, along the edges of my heart, amongst the creases of my eyes, in the dirt grubbed whorls of my fingers. You turn my shadows green while I wander in the wild wood seeking you. Why do I owe such a burden? Born in blood ten thousand grandfathers strong. I know that it is your song I sing among trees, old and young. My hearing is diminished, this hum of light pushes back the darkness, the brightness hurts my eyes, and the stars have lost their names. How can I ever know what rhymes my uncles spoke to you? Does the song still live along the shafts of my hair? Is there hope hanging by spiders silk, a suspended oak leaf of memory, whispering that tune of your neolithic summers? I am caught up as well, dancing to your reel, my whole life a passion play telling a story I don't quite know. No matter the sound of my staff on boards of straight grain. I call from my throat, yet I cannot summon you. It is I who stand in you shadow and it is we who shall go down into that verdant darkness. Feeding the roots, and leaving no one to know. My debt will be repaid in iron, calcium, and carbon. I've been a acorn so many times.
Toggle Commented Jan 19, 2014 on Winter Poetry Challenge: Day 5 at Myth & Moor
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Hi Praise from a mistress of the art.
Toggle Commented Jan 16, 2014 on Winter Poetry Challenge: Day 3 at Myth & Moor
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On that note, my daughter, aged ten, is writing for this now, and I thank you again for starting this. As I was showing her the images, it been a long while since I had read the story, she told me there, to my question, "It's Snow White's mother, pricking her finger out the widow", and she told me of the mahogany line. Most likely my girl, growing up immersed in fairy tale, a changeling child, a bunny girl, knows the stories better than I, and may go into the field.
Toggle Commented Jan 15, 2014 on Winter Poetry Challenge: Day 2 at Myth & Moor
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This one was tough for me. I know bears. Princesses of new snow are a mystery to me. They most likely will always be, even as my own young lady, grows into her womanhood. It is manhood I struggle with, and being as good as the princes: How can I ever live up to your glass box perfection? I am no good at royal decrees. Charm is not laid in my grain. Fairness lies on your cheeks and the petals of you lips. My rough huntsman hands are stained with the dung, I turned into the rose beds for you. One touch and I would smudge the banks of your skin, like piles of slush after the storm. I should have avoided all the mirrors, and gazed only into still ponds and rippled streams. I should lived happily ever after, tangled leaves in my hair, but poison apples are so sweet.
Toggle Commented Jan 15, 2014 on Winter Poetry Challenge: Day 2 at Myth & Moor
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My father served in the military in Alaska. He told me a story of seeing child killed by a polar bear. Unsure if it was true or not, (He was full of tales) but the image is was imprinted on me very young. Not a bad thing. They should be feared and respected and loved more for it. Thank you.
Toggle Commented Jan 14, 2014 on Winter Poetry Challenge: Day 1 at Myth & Moor
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Thank you Terri. I needed that.
Toggle Commented Jan 14, 2014 on Winter Poetry Challenge: Day 1 at Myth & Moor
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January Seems So Long. Were I a bear, I would sleep these winters away. Hide my face beneath a great paw and bury my strength in gentle fur clad slumbers. It would be a kind of gladness, this forgetting. Only I would know the dreams there, and no weight of world would be on my shoulders. Bearhood would be a great release. No need to temper my exuberance at the rain, or my rages at the wind. My nightly slumbers seem so short. A thousand thoughts, like gnats in spring. I hurry awake each morning and start swatting. January seems so long.
Toggle Commented Jan 14, 2014 on Winter Poetry Challenge: Day 1 at Myth & Moor
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I have often stated, and I mean it, that I am who I am, and have had success in my chosen field of the Mythic Arts, due in no small part to the following quote. It hung above my grandfather's desk, and it hangs above mine. I read it every day: Press On: “Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan ‘press on’ has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.” ~Calvin Coolidge
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Another link, that I shared on your FB Wall, if I may. It's odd, actually, invoking the Green Man image so much in our life, and folks talk about how powerful it is to them, to have a March come up, or to see our Mask work, and always, I feel like a conduit. I offer service I presented at our UU Church on the Nature of the Green Man, for further exploration: http://vimeo.com/24628693
Toggle Commented May 21, 2013 on Into the Woods, 5: Wild Folklore at Myth & Moor
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A couple of further links, for your readers and to explore the topic above. Firstly my friend, B.O.G Brother (Beneficent Order of the Greenman) and Folklorist for the Library Of Congress here is the US, Stephen Winick, has been digging deeper in the name of the Green Man and is back ground than any other writer I know. Doing good work and has found some clear references to the term going back before Raglan, and it's marvelous. It show the wild, rough, and fertile Green Man that was present in English Pageantry, with his fire work staves and more, and that the common folks knew the name of him was indeed, "The Green Man"! Here is the first of Stephen's 4 part Blog on the subject: http://www.stevewinick.com/blog.cfm?feature=2840799&postid=1577067
Toggle Commented May 21, 2013 on Into the Woods, 5: Wild Folklore at Myth & Moor
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Your comments on the lusty Jack, spot on. Some of the Faerie Fests that the Boggies March at avoid darker, lustier, and rougher things. (I always imagine the word "rougher" in male topics, said in the voice of Robert Bly) Some embrace it. At NY Faerie, we will escort the Queen of Faerie, with sparkler fire works on the end of our staffs, as "Wifflers" a traditional role of the Green Man in English Pageant. So much so that there is a 18th Century manual on Fire Works, and on the cover, is a Leaf Masked "Greene Man" with a Fire Work Spouting Staff, in rather obvious symbolism. http://www.brown.edu/Facilities/University_Library/exhibits/Fireworks/3a.gif
Toggle Commented May 21, 2013 on Into the Woods, 5: Wild Folklore at Myth & Moor
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Excuse me. I hadn't watched the final video yet...so....ahem... What? Ok. Awesome. Odd. Something else. Speechless.
Toggle Commented Apr 23, 2013 on Tunes for a Monday Morning at Myth & Moor
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I've been on a Child Ballad kick lately, due to a lecture by Stephen Winick, and etc. So looking into the Earl Brand (Lord Douglas) #7 and finding out that it inspired Frederick William Burton's painting, the "The Meeting on Turret Stairs", a personal favorite in the Pre-Raph genre, and once more, you manage to bring my loves all together in one place. Thanks.
Toggle Commented Apr 23, 2013 on Tunes for a Monday Morning at Myth & Moor
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Jane, So good. One of my favorites. Just was reading this aloud to Leah, then I had to stop, and strike a beat upon my desk, and sing out. Has a good mouth feel. Rolls from the tongue. Want to hear it sung in Scots now.
Toggle Commented Mar 1, 2013 on Tunes for a Monday Morning at Myth & Moor
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Now, I create seasonal and mythic playlists. I have them for birding days, sunny days, windy days, and more. However, my winter play list and my Green Man play list are by far my favorite and ones I am constantly crafting. Here is a earlier variation of it on my YouTube Channel: http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL266124B5B25F2AD5 And here, is a full copy of my winter list from Spotify. I will be incorporating several of the songs above into it. Indigo Girls – River Enya – Amid The Falling Snow Don McLean – Winterwood Genesis – Snowbound - 2007 Remastered LP Version Enya – White Is In The Winter Night The Avett Brothers – Winter In My Heart Loreena McKennitt – Snow Simon & Garfunkel – A Hazy Shade Of Winter Tori Amos – Winter Matt Pond PA – Winter Fawn Don McLean – Winterwood - Live Ingrid Michaelson – Men of Snow Sarah McLachlan – Ice Tori Amos – Winter The Doors – Wintertime Love KIVA – Winter Solstice Sunrise Sara Bareilles – Winter Song Laura Marling – Goodbye England (Covered In Snow) Sting – The Snow It Melts The Soonest Sting – Now Winter Comes Slowly Sting – The Hounds Of Winter Sting – You Only Cross My Mind In Winter The Decemberists – January Hymn Bert Jansch – In The Bleak Mid Winter - 2009 - Remaster Susan McKeown – The Snows They Melt The Soonest Lindisfarne – Winter Song KIVA – In Praise Of Winter KIVA – Once More Owl City – Peppermint Winter Elvis Costello – I Felt the Chill Before the Winter Came Jennifer Cutting's Ocean Orchestra, Coope Boyes & Simpson – Light the Winter's Dark Jennifer Cutting's Ocean Orchestra – Summer Will Come 'Round Again Suzanne Vega – Freeze Tag Lindsey Horner – Thought The Bitter Frost And Snow Lindsey Horner – Winter King Lindsey Horner – Bold Orion Joshua Radin – Winter Fountains Of Wayne – Valley Winter Song The Pixies – Winterlong The Albion Christmas Band – Winter song The Albion Band – Snow falls The Deep Dark Woods – The Winter Hours Matt Pond PA – Snow Day Matt Pond PA – Winterlong Matt Pond PA – Winter One Matt Pond PA – I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight Sarah McLachlan – Song For A Winter's Night
Toggle Commented Feb 1, 2013 on Tunes for a Monday Morning at Myth & Moor
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Terri, I have been remiss in catching up, and only just now found this post. I wish would cold connect musically, as I imagine you would love so much of my playlists, unfortunately, I use Spotify, which I think you said you don't, or can't get. I have a goal I keep more in winter than any other time, and that is to find a new song every day. Music is a constant source for me. The winter months especially. So firstly, I want to deeply encourage this entire album, "Through the Bitter Frost & Snow" By Susan Mckeown & Lindsey Horner Really, just a wonderfully epic and lovely bit of storytelling. Here is the first song and you can find the rest elsewhere: http://youtu.be/fjaIGCVGqec
Toggle Commented Feb 1, 2013 on Tunes for a Monday Morning at Myth & Moor
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I am always particularly pleased to claim Mary Oliver among my Unitarian Universalist community, and she is much loved there. I hope her words are a salve of health.
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