Titania and Oberon, the Fairy Lovers unite, and Spring blossoms with their passion.
Category Archives: modern romantics
They appear from nowhere, stepping out of the mist along the water’s edge… Wings slightly tattered she stood on the shore, looking out to the gentle infinity of blue. When she looked at me I saw it in her eyes – reflected. She stood there and focused her gazer slowly upon me. Light radiated from her face, the third eye in her forehead, and her flaming hair. I stood silent , gently absorbing her radiance.
I can only be thankful I was there at that moment. I followed her walking along the beach. I watched as she danced, the two of us alone on the shore as the birds swooped around her, like music. we were connected as if by a psychic thread, a while glowing string that pulled me along as she walked….I followed her further, walking through the places no one walks, abandoned warehouses and a shoreline that skirted the grey city as if sh e were a mermaid who had found both feet and wings..
We walked, her movements connected somehow to my heart with that glowing but invisible string pulling me along, as if I could walk over water. I wondered where she was going, and where she would take me; where she lived and if she would walk gently over top the silvery water of the lake. Nothing seemed real and nothing seemed impossible. She looked as if she had walked out of time, stepping through centuries or decades at will, with her black boots and her wings carrying her. Her black coat was long and old. Trimmed with fur and wide skirted, swirling its heavy skirts in the wind as she moved in her joyous circles, its sleeves covering her hands that flashed white like her face. She could have stepped from any time or place… Medieval England, Victorian Ireland, she could have been the original Strega de Buonaventura, or a salem witch… her beauty was rich – half spirit and half earthling.She walked as a spirit among us, half flesh and half an electric being of light , her cells were oscillating wave lengths filled with rainbows of light. I saw them when I looked into her clear, almost transparent aqua eyes. . The radiance was blinding.
Darkness was falling quickly. The moon was in perigree, full and about to rise. She was hurrying somewhere, taking me with her.. The lake and city spread before us across the lake. I watched the sun set through the darkness of her silhouetted wings.
Angels appear as messengers, harbingers of change at times when we are most sensitive, when the veils thin and we can see the angels and spirits that walk amongst us … She glowed with light and fire, mirroring the sunset. I watched them both fade as she became a chameleon, her skin slowly merging with the colours in the sky until it turned into darkness, and she disappeared into the early winter night.
Traditional recipes have been handed down in my family from generations of wonderful cooks whose art was expressed in beautiful embroidery and fine cuisine. .Southern Ukrainian cooking made with love filled my childhood along with the stories told in the process of baking and cooking. Every holiday a feast to be remembered. My mother excelled in the making of cakes and desserts, conscripting me as her sous chef from the age of four when I was considered old enough to start helping in the elaborate preparations of the treasured traditional family cake recipes for special occasions, especially birthdays. Everything was prepared and done by hand and the taste of love was in every amazing mouthful.
Her walnut torte, the traditional Ukrainian cake was my favourite . I would sit grinding mountains of nuts by hand to please my mother and make the cake. No matter how much my small arms hurt, I kept grinding the nuts in a small hand grinder knowing what the ultimate reward would be – the most delicious cake in the entire world. The most special cakes were made with an exquisite jam between the torte layers that my mother made every summer. This was her special ambrosia – confiture of roses. The scent was intoxicating .
We would snip the heads off at their peak of bloom together, cutting them into baskets on the morning after a Full Moon in June when their scent was at its peak. The petals were then plucked off the heads into bowls and cleaned of any caterpillars and leaves.
Old fashioned fragrant deep pink Damask roses are best used for this exquisite delicacy. There are many different ways of making rose jam. One is made raw, allowing the petals to macerate in the sun with sugar crystals and a touch of lemon until it becomes a sticky fragrant paste…my grandmother’s recipe. The other is a silky textured syrupy fragrant jam that is cooked .
Fill a large bowl with cleaned rose petals . Cover them with sugar and the juice of 2 lemons and mix together. Leave to blend their juices overnight, covered with a linen towel. Add half a cup of water with more lemon juice to taste and stir.
Bring 2 cups of water to a slow boil with 1 cup of sugar, some grated lemon rind and 2 tablespoons of agar agar, mixing to dissolve. Add the rose petal blend and slowly simmer for 30 minutes slowly stirring in and adding 3 tablespoons of a light mild raw honey and more lemon juice to maintain the colour of the roses. Take care to not overcook the rose petals or they will lose their colour and tenderness. Ladle the mixture into boiled an sterilized jars and seal tightly. Store the preserves for up to a year, but they are best eaten within 7 months.
This recipe yields 3 medium jars of ambrosial , silky textured rose preserve that has a jelly like syrupy quality fragrant and delicious beyond your wildest taste dreams, like the taste of an unforgettably romantic summer love.
My fantasy HATS … and Headdresses… Magical creations, each one is a small and unique work of art. Some are made entirely with natural elements and flowers like fairy wreaths Others are for city wear, weddings and special occasions. Created with love and and embellished with silk faux flowers, pearls and threads they are made to order and each is a a celebration of the joys of spring… a Chapeau Fantastique !
A new painting is flowing like music, as if pouring out of my hands and my heart. It is like a golden lake. A work in progress, soft coral clouds form a sky on the canvas, painted with layers of paint mixed in thin washes of time.Dull gold gleams as a base somewhere beneath the reds and creams. Placed there about ten years ago, like time trapped on canvas and preserved, glazes hold floating fragments of gold. Small fires and soft explosions are caught there forever like old loves that continue to smoulder; their beauty never dies, gold in our hearts. Venus is now fully in Chiron’s embrace. I feel them mingled together… the wise teacher and healer and the Goddess of beauty are meeting in the last sign of Pisces, the fully opened heart, yet they are restricted in their expression and flow by a square from Saturn. Love and compassion merge in their embrace like a joyous lake inviting us to swim in its magical waters healing our collective heart through gentleness. The square to Saturn in Sagittarius enables us now with the concerted effort to speak out, for our beliefs and collective truth – to have heart, the message of Venus in embrace with Chiron and in the realm of Neptune – the message of love.
Clouds of bright gold leaf are forming in the foreground. I see the changes coming in this beautiful inner sky that is unfolding before me and can manipulate them into what I wish to create – into a future reflection, my own inner sky. The canvas has been waiting for its completion patiently for years.Now marked by layers of time, a patina is giving its own gift of depth into the background that makes the foreground sing.
There is a certain degree of possession in painting… I must admit it. It cannot be denied, and is true of most art. The artist can become possessed; obsessed completely by his Muse. Once experienced, the artist seeks the same communion, hungering for the presence of the Muse, wanting to be once again hers, taken over, like an instrument. Once kissed fully on the lips by the Muse when she comes to him or her, the artist, singer or dancer is never the same. A divine elixir has been tasted. The desire for that sweet essence can become so keen and so subtly invasive that it takes over the human heart with a deep love and yearning. Perhaps this is the secret truth behind the passion of the artist…
the seduction of his Muse.
The Moon and Jupiter are kissing in the sky in Libra, ruled by Venus the Goddess of Love. Uranus the Electric Planet opposes the two so we can expect some wild and crazy love, with Mars in Pisces. Water needs to flow, and this is powerful watery emotion – use it wisely. There is a Grand Cross in the heavens. Become fluid, embrace the flow. Make art, dance and sing. Singing lets the love flow and you can share it, so the world becomes a better place… Keep the faith, sing your heart’s song, and share the love…
The Cosmic Heart with Doves….new work, recently completed, below.
Dragons and doves fly in a fiery golden sky, mirrored in their perfection and surrounded by flames, hearts and stars. The dragons seem to kiss, poised in midair.This isolated detail from a larger painting draws me into its perfect balance. The symmetry holds me quietly and makes me want to paint larger and more detailed canvasses, creating golden worlds with skies where dragons fly in peace with doves.