standing still for solstice

(all images Kate Kennington Steer) I am drawn to light, of all kinds, in all shapes.  I am pulled towards the symbols and manifestations of the Great Light.  And yet, paradoxically, through chronic ill health, I am often dragged into the most shadowed places within.  The darknesses of depression are a constant companion lurking notContinue reading “standing still for solstice”

we each hear in our own language (Acts 2.8, Pentecost 2020)

How do I hear the Holy Spirit speak to me?  In soughing grass, in crashing wave, in a child’s cry, in an elder’s laugh?  In sunlight on my lifted face, in moonlight on my crumpled bed? In an urgent prod that begins in my gut and lies heavy on my solar plexus?  In another’s singing,Continue reading “we each hear in our own language (Acts 2.8, Pentecost 2020)”

furled fire (a Beltaine Birthday Blessing)

Every year I wonder whether to write something to mark Beltaine, the Celtic feast which celebrates a cross-quarter day in the year’s wheel, the end of the dark half of the year and the beginning of its half of light.  I celebrate the waxing of the arc the sun’s path makes across the little sliceContinue reading “furled fire (a Beltaine Birthday Blessing)”

psalms for passiontide: Good Friday Psalm 22

This is such a richly textured psalm, densely packed with all kinds of imagery, depicting a plethora of emotional experience, and provoking in me a vast range of emotions.  It feels too much to unpack (and it is!); it feels too raw for me to want to sit with it for long. God, God . . . myContinue reading “psalms for passiontide: Good Friday Psalm 22”

psalms for passiontide: Maundy Thursday Psalm 116.1,10-17

As I write this I am at present without a voice due to a virus I picked up several weeks ago.  My throat is my weak spot and a barometer to the state of my overall health, and over the last few years I have experienced several lengthy periods where I can only whisper, andContinue reading “psalms for passiontide: Maundy Thursday Psalm 116.1,10-17”

feeling vulnerable: Blue Christmas 2019

The following was written for the Godspace blog, as part of their Advent series on ‘Who is this child?’ visual journalling page from Kate Kennington Steer   I was unable to have children of my own, so holding my nephews, niece and friends’ children over the years has been such a precious bittersweet joy.  AsContinue reading “feeling vulnerable: Blue Christmas 2019”

advent apertures 2019: Blue Christmas

Evening says to night: “Are you always this beautiful under your clothes?” Night says to the moon: “All day I dreamed of you but I couldn’t bring myself to call.” The moon says to sleep: “There are doorways in the dark.” Sleep says to dawn: “As if forward were the only direction!” Dawn says toContinue reading “advent apertures 2019: Blue Christmas”

advent apertures 2019: day 14

weep not for me, mother, although the world’s weight rests on my shoulders along with your parting embrace, the dark shadow of the cross behind us now and the box below waiting to transport me to the tomb. Weep not, for what is finished is but the conception of the great beginning, a birth youContinue reading “advent apertures 2019: day 14”

advent apertures 2019 day 9

… with our faces so close to the love mirror, we must not breathe, but rather change to a cleared place where a building was and feel the treasure hiding in us … from ‘A story they know’ Rumi (translated by Coleman Barks)   How would I feel if on this everyday Monday morning anContinue reading “advent apertures 2019 day 9”

germination

‘image into ikon’ is the new name for the shot at ten paces blog which began life in Lent 2013.  The name ‘shot at ten paces’ arose out of a conversation with the poet Gillian Wallace in 2012 whilst I was describing the limitations, frustrations and practicalities of taking photographs whilst living with a chronicContinue reading “germination”