Upon waking this crisply clear Wisconsin morning, the Moon was on my mind and all she represents: Feminine energy, intuition, phases of life, darkness and resurgence. Grandmother Moon bathes the world in a gentle light we can gaze into and absorb rather the sun which can burn eyes blind. Contemplating her many messages stirred both curiosity and passion to return to the studio, which I have been avoiding these many months. Writing a book is a lot of work, not to mention 15 new paintings specifically for inclusion in Hidden Thunder. The past couple years have been exhausting, I’ve told myself. The passion will return. Yet underneath lies an uneasy discomfort that my work in this area is complete, mission accomplished.
As a regular moon watcher I am aware her light is currently waning. In the rhythm of the ancients, I’d like to honor her, echo ancient ritual, encourage her return through painting. Feeling my muse stir, I follow her urging to my studio and finally pick up my brush. Whispering sweetly as I paint her, she reminds me of many things forgotten. Among them was my trip in 2005 to Australia, gifted by a dear friend and mentor who wanted me to see the rock art there. This was a fabulous opportunity I could not turn down; unfortunately my husband was not able to come with. For three weeks on the opposite side of the world separated, I missed him deeply and searched for a connection. Looking up into that southern hemisphere sky one evening to study the Moon, I realized his and my eyes gazed upon that same ancient light; suddenly I felt connected.
Painting this morning, musing as I do, I realize those Old Ones gazed upon the same Grandmother Moon as I do. All people, through all time, have gazed upon her. I wonder, if we look deeply could we all see each other clearly, understand our connection by gazing into the soft white light of Grandmother Moon. Next time you look at her, remember some Old One in the past gazed upon her just as you do now.