This is a post from my first ever blog Winterspells: Life on the Magical Path, Legacy of the Witchblood that I wrote in November 2019. That blog is under my writing name, Alyne de Winter.
I wanted to share it here because this my place for art.
These paintings are acrylic on 11 x 14 canvas panels and are all for sale. There are also prints available on my Redbubble store.
Getting back into painting has been wonderful but scary. It is strange that to me that it never was scary before. Perhaps I’m more serious about art now than I was when I painted the tarot deck over 20 years ago….(OMG! Has it been that long?) Or maybe I know what it takes now. I’ve been taking art classes and making art since forever, so this lack of confidence is weird. But anyway, I am still obsessed with fairy tales and folklore and these inspire the imagery.
This series of seasonal paintings is quite personal. Using the four seasons as ‘chapters” they illustrate the transformation that occurs when we encounter the supernatural. I have had a long connection to deer goddesses like the British Elen of the Ways. So the tale begins with her.
Autumn—-Gate at the Edge of the Forest In the twilight season of Autumn, the gate becomes a portal where the deer goddess, Elen, appears bearing a healing flower, elecampane. Fly agaric mushrooms spring from the dead leaves. Wolves prowl through the forest, warning the girl that as lovely as the Faery may be, there are dangers in these encounters. Magic is cyclical. like the moon, it goes from light to dark and back to light again. This is the life-death-life rhythm of nature.
Winter—-Winterspell Winter brings a spell of deep inwardness. Night moves in and through us. The dark is lit by candles, the cold warmed by fire. The wolf is the protector who howls out the pain. Snow falls from the heart where thawing begins. We are in stasis, darkness drawn to light, death reaching for life. What is growing under the snow, or in the cave under the hill? The only sound we hear is the cry of the wolf.
Spring—Dawn Lily As we wait among the bare winter trees dreaming of the stag god carrying us away from our castle of stone, the wolf warms our feet. Tides are turning; cycles are moving, dark to light and light to dark. The candles have melted down so only a few flames remain. As dawn rises on the first morning of spring, a royal dove flies in bearing a vibrant tiger lily, herald of the sun. Like the grass and flowers that appear on the earth, we begin to grow antlers.
Summer—Fireflies in the Long Grass The transformation is complete. We are at one with the deer goddess, Elen. The fire is now within. The light radiates from our hearts and minds. Our guardian is gone. The earth is filled with wonder, from the crickets singing in the hot summer night, and the fireflies dazzling the grass. Our inward eyes are open to the Unseen.