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  • Writer's picturematilde tomat

the STONE : egg

On a Sunday afternoon, after work, you can find me here, in Padiham, parked under the trees, facing the sun. On YouTube a selection of nature sounds, birds singing, rivers and brooks. A drink and some snacks. Next to me, people walk hand in hand or chaise kids and dogs.

I read uni papers and write about my Saturday Divination.

This to me is the definition of bliss.

Yesterday the cards reinforced, reminded, pulled me back and asked me: do you remember? I mean, the very first day you sat and decided to do this blog-thing: do you remember what I told you? I didn't. But the energy did, oh boy she did!

Of course, the total of the cards gave me again 7! And these were in this particular order: 54 The Vow, 33 The Mountain, 13 The Crone, 47 The Storm and 67 The Stone (214 > 7)

I had the VOW even during the week, which I didn't write much about in my journal but made me think, quite a lot, about commitment. I know that things would happen and change the moment that I decide to promise, to officially pledge allegiance to whatever it is that I want to devote myself to; but there is still a fear of "losing" a part of me. Is this a trust issue? Very possibly. I am aware of the Eternal and the Uncanny, of the importance of a ritual or ceremony. Part of me is still scared. So, I tiptoe around the idea. Maybe a walk after this will clear my head. And, yes, I know that if I dedicate myself, that is going to be it, there is no going back.

The MOUNTAIN confirmed that the ore, the jewels, whatever is precious are to be found within, and the race to the top is just... a race. She is sturdy, solid, protective, ancient, safe. I remember as a child, after the earthquake, thinking that I was as old as the mountain and that I could not have said that to anyone for fear of being branded as crazy. I was only 8 and still, I knew (I wrote more and in detail about that night in Rebeltherapy). I remember also my fear of tunnels and how one night it just dissolved when I felt safer inside than outside in a snowstorm. As Joseph Campbell pointed out, we are all central mountains, and hence central mountains are everywhere. This card asked for the following one to be clarified and reinforced - the CRONE: the old woman, the sage, the one who rises above the rationality of duality, the one who understands that life is just an endless cycle, with no beginnings and no ends. That woman that accepts everything, the beautiful and the suffering, the seen and the unseen; she is dangerously rich and unapologetically magical, as everything around her. She is Lilith, Baba Jaga, Hecate. She accepts everything and rejects nothing. And especially, she doesn't do chit chat, nor accepts petty day-to-day silliness. Her path is the deeper path. Her path is the path of the Vow, protected by the Mountain; in the belly of the Mountain. Within.

I felt a sense of awe and sacrality when I noticed how these cards complemented themselves. They spoke of eternity, knowledge, groundedness, endless cycles. I remember walking up the Tor in Glastonbury supported, followed, enshrined by two majestic ravens and my ex-husband feeling tense and acknowledging at there was something else going on he wasn't part of. And there, there are no questions and no answers.

Maybe I do need a tower moment: that STORM, again. As in my first reading in this blog when both the Storm and the Stone came out, in the same order, and gave the name to this series. Maybe I need to change, to destroy the tower, to take her down. Surrender, accept, seek shelter (in the belly of the mountain?) There are forces greater than me, and it's ok. I have had enough confirmations, synchronicities, coincidences and now I am wondering if the energy would ever tire of me dancing around without making my mind up.

Joseph Mallord William Turner - Snow Storm: Steam-Boat off a Harbour's Mouth 1842

Let go, let go, let go: it is going to be ok. Just let go.

Because I have the STONE: it's eternal, it's my anchor, concrete, reliable, ancient and eternal. There I can find peace, stillness, quietness. There I will have my answers.


This past week I felt I have been possessed by colour. I painted, and painted, and added more layers, and more blues and greens; I got lost in the movement of the brush on paper, on my hands on the brush, on adding more paper, and more paint, and different pigments. I looked fascinated by the adding and removing of hues and shades. The differences between fast and determined strokes and gentle circling, with no end. I got lost in this land of circles, and cells, and marks. I felt captivated, borderline obsessed.

I fell in love.

I poured my heart out to one of my tutors and admitted that potentially this is where I am heading, looking for myself and finding my heart. This is where my work with energy lies. This is the whole point of art, to me: to tell a story I believe in. The only issues, being University, is how to exhibit this work I am doing. The STONE is asking me to look - again! - at the egg-shaped works of Andy Goldsworthy.

Unbeknown to me and the cards of this Saturday, I have spent part of my week looking at a series of documentaries on The Andes (the Mountain...) and then a documentary on Native American art, especially the Great Serpent Mound in Ohio which is nothing more than a very long serpent with an open mouth extending around an oval feature that may represent the snake eating an egg. And then yesterday I get the "memo" I didn't quite get last month (!) of looking again at eggs. This means that I have to look into the symbolism of eggs (creativity, fertility, wealth, cells, Creation, ...) and see how I can incorporate this feature in my work. As of now, I am thinking of creating a large egg in paper mache which would be then painted with my usual symbolism and personal mythology connected with the energy.

I am not so sure how that would come out, but I can only try.

What I know is that I have been connecting with Nature, trees, and energy way more this week. There is a sense of longing, a craving for immersion in greens, to walk among ferns, a game of hide-and-seek. I had images of The Celestine Prophecy, fuelled by the documentary on The Andes, of course, and strong memories I almost forgot of a residential, one summer, at the Field Study Council in Pembroke while I was studying ecology at the Open University. I was extremely happy there, lost among bluebells. It feels now that all the disgruntled studies I did, all the various books I read, the people I talked to from the most disparate walks of life, they all make sense now. It is cyclical, Sam reminded me earlier. Every now and then, The Celestine Prophecy comes back, my longing for commitment, a yearning that only now seems to make sense. Finding Psychogeography, to me, was a "coming home", as my dear friend Helen described. At the door of this new home, the woods, energy, the cards, art, analysis, music, sounds, memories: they all coming knocking. I can now open the door and let them all in.

If only I found the courage to say yes...

in the meantime, ad maiora!


© mtomat 2021 - written on 28022021 - no reproduction without permission.

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