It's always difficult to describe where you live and what the environment looks like. We had a busy weekend with my parents and I've shared the photos showing some of what we did on Facebook.
In the album, you will find lots of pictures of primroses - one of my favourite spring flowers. Primroses (primula vulgaris) get their name from the latin words "prima" meaning first and "rosa" meaning rose. In the middle ages, concoctions were made for use with gout and rheumatism. The flowers were used in love potions and an infusion of the roots was taken for nervous headaches.
Primrose seeds can either be scattered while still green in early summer into a prepared seed or plug tray and covered with Perlite. These seeds usually germinate in a few weeks and can then either be wintered in the plug trays or pricked out from the seed trays when the seedlings are large enough and wintered in pots before planting out into prepared sites the following spring. Primrose seeds, like violet seeds need stratification before they can germinate. In some cases, if the seed is dry, it can take two years to achieve germination, so don't lose heart the first year if nothing grows!
The primroses natural habitat is in hedgerows and under deciduous trees, so they prefer moist soils and will tolerate heavy soils in semi-shade. If you plant primroses in a wild garden, be sure that you do not cut the grass until mid-summer, when the plants will have seeded themselves.
Primroses can be grown in containers. Use a soil-based compost and keep the plant well watered. Jekka McVicar suggests giving only one liquid feeds with fertiliser after flowering.
Primroses are closely related to cowslips, primula veris. Both Matthew Wood and David Hoffman have comprehensive pages on the medicinal use of cowslips, but I had to look in Herbcraft by Susan Lavender and Anne Franklin to find a section on primroses. They suggest both flowers and leaves should be gathered as soon as they open. Both leaves and roots can be dried for future use and the flowers can be crystalised by coating first with beaten egg white and then sugar.
Herbcraft is very much a book about the energetic use of herbs, but their medicinal knowledge is sound. The section on lore says, "The primrose was a plant much prized by the Druids. The poem, 'The Chair of Taliesin', describes the initiation of a bard with a drink made from primrose and vervain. Druidesses carried primroses during rituals as a protection from evil. The Druids used a primrose oil, rubbed on the body, as a cleanser and purifier."
They suggest the whole plant can be infused and used as a treatment for nervous headaches, insomnia and as a cough medicine. The flowers can be soaked in distilled water and used as a lotion for acne, spots, wrinkles and other skin complaints.
The tea can be made in the usual manner, leaving the infusion for fifteen minutes instead of ten. If you want to make an infused oil, pack a jkar with fresh flowers and fill with sweet almond oil. Place in the airing cupboard or other warm place for fourteen days, shaking daily. Strain into a clean, dark bottle and add a few drops of vitamin E oil. Keep tightly stoppered in a dark place.
I wish I had read this section before last weekend so I could have made up some new concoctions, but there's always next year!
Monday, 4 April 2011
Friday, 1 April 2011
Spring Trees
Gazing out of the railway carriage this morning on the way into work, I was struck by how many trees are either coming to life or displaying blossom. Noticing these changes teaches us so much about our local environment and what is available during the lean time of the year.
The waste ground across from the station platform is growing an impressive array of feral trees, reminding me that every cultivated plot would return to native woodlands within five years if not managed.
The trees are mainly hawthorn and sycamore, but along the lineside, pussy willows were flowering alongside “ordinary” willows and a lone cherry tree was showing the first signs of blossom. The hawthorn leaves were a beautiful shade of light green, but it will be several weeks before the sycamore buds burst. Any elders were hiding, but I know their purple budded leaves are already growing green.
What could we use these trees for?
Bark collection is normally done in winter while trees lie dormant, but the green bark of the young willow branches is a useful source of anti-inflammatory and headache potions. Willow bark can be harvested at any time during dormancy but is said to achieve optimal quality in the spring just as the first leaf buds start to form.
Glennie Kindred says “willow bark has been used for its pain-relieving qualities for at least 2,000 years. The Salix alba (white willow, withe, withy) contains salicin, which is converted to salicylic acid in the body.” Willow bark reduces fever and relieves rheumatism. A decoction can be used for gum and tonsil inflammations and as a footbath for sweaty feet.
The decoction is made by soaking 3 teaspoons (15ml) of the bark in a cup of cold water for 2 - 5 hours. Then bring to the boil. Strain and take a wineglassful each day, a mouthful at a time. The bark can be dried, powdered and stored in an airtight container.
Many herbalist believe black willow (Salix nigra) to be the most effective tree, but the difference is negligible if the bark is freshly harvested. Salix nigra is the pussy willow and has black bark as opposed to the light greens of the white willow. Its properties are much the same, but Glennie says it was used in the past as an aphrodisiac and sexual sedative.
Goat willow or sallow willow (Salix caprea) is used in very much the same way as the white willow, but sallow bark tea is recommended for indigestion, whooping cough and catarrh. It can also be used as an antiseptic and disinfectant.
Young hawthorn leaves were historically known as “bread and cheese” because it often found its way into mouths when other foraged food was rare. They make a refreshing tea for heart conditions and other water retention issues, but don’t take them without advice if you are on other heart medication.
Now is the time to make a cherry blossom elixir. The bark of the wild cherry, Prunus serontina is the species usually recommended for dry, involuntary coughs. The inner bark is the most potent part of the tree, acquired by a mixture of whittling and scraping with a hand-knife. Experiments with modern cultivars of Prunus. avium, the Sweet Cherry, show that good results can be obtained from pruning garden cherry trees.
Ananda Wilson first alerted me to the possibility of using the cherry blossom for a delicious elixir and every year I try to find blooms to cover with brandy and honey for coughs later in the year. The cherry tree in my garden is too high up to gather flowers easily, but maybe this year I will find some at a height I can reach!
Another joy in my garden at the moment is the yellow forsythia. If this were the forsythia suspense of Chinese origin, it would be a staple medicinal herb. The fruit is one of the most common components in Chinese herbal formulas for treating the common cold, influenza, and allergies.
Now would be the time to gather young horsechestnut leaves for salves and tinctures to strengthen arterial walls and support varicose veins. The time for harvest is very short since it must be done before the conical flowers appear.
Elder leaves too could be harvested for bruise salves, but I prefer to allow them to remain on the trees as I would rather use plantain, yarrow or comfrey, but that is my choice. I’m waiting for the flowers which will show summer is just around the corner.
The waste ground across from the station platform is growing an impressive array of feral trees, reminding me that every cultivated plot would return to native woodlands within five years if not managed.
The trees are mainly hawthorn and sycamore, but along the lineside, pussy willows were flowering alongside “ordinary” willows and a lone cherry tree was showing the first signs of blossom. The hawthorn leaves were a beautiful shade of light green, but it will be several weeks before the sycamore buds burst. Any elders were hiding, but I know their purple budded leaves are already growing green.
What could we use these trees for?
Bark collection is normally done in winter while trees lie dormant, but the green bark of the young willow branches is a useful source of anti-inflammatory and headache potions. Willow bark can be harvested at any time during dormancy but is said to achieve optimal quality in the spring just as the first leaf buds start to form.
Glennie Kindred says “willow bark has been used for its pain-relieving qualities for at least 2,000 years. The Salix alba (white willow, withe, withy) contains salicin, which is converted to salicylic acid in the body.” Willow bark reduces fever and relieves rheumatism. A decoction can be used for gum and tonsil inflammations and as a footbath for sweaty feet.
The decoction is made by soaking 3 teaspoons (15ml) of the bark in a cup of cold water for 2 - 5 hours. Then bring to the boil. Strain and take a wineglassful each day, a mouthful at a time. The bark can be dried, powdered and stored in an airtight container.
Many herbalist believe black willow (Salix nigra) to be the most effective tree, but the difference is negligible if the bark is freshly harvested. Salix nigra is the pussy willow and has black bark as opposed to the light greens of the white willow. Its properties are much the same, but Glennie says it was used in the past as an aphrodisiac and sexual sedative.
Goat willow or sallow willow (Salix caprea) is used in very much the same way as the white willow, but sallow bark tea is recommended for indigestion, whooping cough and catarrh. It can also be used as an antiseptic and disinfectant.
Young hawthorn leaves were historically known as “bread and cheese” because it often found its way into mouths when other foraged food was rare. They make a refreshing tea for heart conditions and other water retention issues, but don’t take them without advice if you are on other heart medication.
Now is the time to make a cherry blossom elixir. The bark of the wild cherry, Prunus serontina is the species usually recommended for dry, involuntary coughs. The inner bark is the most potent part of the tree, acquired by a mixture of whittling and scraping with a hand-knife. Experiments with modern cultivars of Prunus. avium, the Sweet Cherry, show that good results can be obtained from pruning garden cherry trees.
Ananda Wilson first alerted me to the possibility of using the cherry blossom for a delicious elixir and every year I try to find blooms to cover with brandy and honey for coughs later in the year. The cherry tree in my garden is too high up to gather flowers easily, but maybe this year I will find some at a height I can reach!
Another joy in my garden at the moment is the yellow forsythia. If this were the forsythia suspense of Chinese origin, it would be a staple medicinal herb. The fruit is one of the most common components in Chinese herbal formulas for treating the common cold, influenza, and allergies.
Now would be the time to gather young horsechestnut leaves for salves and tinctures to strengthen arterial walls and support varicose veins. The time for harvest is very short since it must be done before the conical flowers appear.
Elder leaves too could be harvested for bruise salves, but I prefer to allow them to remain on the trees as I would rather use plantain, yarrow or comfrey, but that is my choice. I’m waiting for the flowers which will show summer is just around the corner.
Tuesday, 29 March 2011
Herbal ally: living life backwards
Almost three months ago now, on January 7th, Kristine Brown posted the first of her herbal ally challenges - to decorate the cover of the notebook being used to record events over the year.
I have a confession to make here. When someone tells me to do something, I will think of one hundred and one reasons why the instruction/suggestion does not apply to me, even if I have agreed to take part in a course of action. There was no need. Everything I planned to do would be done on the computer. I already keep a herbal journey for all my activities – why waste time and paper writing in another one. I don’t do arty things!
So, I watched other people’s blogs as they produced beautiful covers for their notebooks – glorious colours, intricate drawings, stunning collaged photos. I knew I couldn’t do that so I carried quietly on doing the things I was prepared to do.
This is a review of all my ally activities so far:-
- I have observed and photographed violets plants in five different locations
- I have made several dried violet leaf teas but not consistently nor with any pleasure
- I have eaten two harvests of leaves and flowers in spring salads with great enjoyment.
- I have put up two jars of violet vinegar and one of violet tincture and made a violet syrup.
- From the research I carried out I have written three articles and delivered a short talk to the Mercian Herb Group which has inspired one of the group to look for and find her own violets.
- I have begun the violet meditations but will be surprised if I can do them regularly over a two week period.
I shan’t be growing any sweet violets from seed or cuttings, but I may plant a packet of heartsease (viola tricola) later in the year.
I have been quite active with my herbal ally, but not in the order of the set tasks. It doesn’t really matter because the whole process is about developing and maintaining a relationship with your ally and learning more about them.
Yesterday, after making sketches in my general notebook, I realised that a specific notebook for my ally would be a useful thing to have. I love notebooks. I collect them. They sit in a pile in the cupboard under the stairs quietly waiting for me to fill up my current notebooks. They wait years!
The one I chose came from The Works three or four years ago and has a cloth cover. I knew I couldn’t draw or make a paper collage on the fabric, so I thought about embroidering some other material. A piece of old sheet from the airing cupboard was quickly found and my initial sketch of a violet from the garden was copied onto the material.
This was then inserted into my smaller embroidery circle frame and I spent the evening with a needle and silks. I also used up the last scrap of pink ink in the printer printing off all my recent pictures and a title to make a collage for the first page.
This morning Chris was going out to get a new tax disc for the car and came back with some super pritt glue for the material and some basic glue for the pictures. He’s incredibly good at details, so I let him iron and glue on the embroidery and I did the collage. We make a good team.
So here is the first ally challenge completed. It makes me smile and I’m looking forward to filling up the pages of my newly designated journal.
I have a confession to make here. When someone tells me to do something, I will think of one hundred and one reasons why the instruction/suggestion does not apply to me, even if I have agreed to take part in a course of action. There was no need. Everything I planned to do would be done on the computer. I already keep a herbal journey for all my activities – why waste time and paper writing in another one. I don’t do arty things!
So, I watched other people’s blogs as they produced beautiful covers for their notebooks – glorious colours, intricate drawings, stunning collaged photos. I knew I couldn’t do that so I carried quietly on doing the things I was prepared to do.
This is a review of all my ally activities so far:-
- I have observed and photographed violets plants in five different locations
- I have made several dried violet leaf teas but not consistently nor with any pleasure
- I have eaten two harvests of leaves and flowers in spring salads with great enjoyment.
- I have put up two jars of violet vinegar and one of violet tincture and made a violet syrup.
- From the research I carried out I have written three articles and delivered a short talk to the Mercian Herb Group which has inspired one of the group to look for and find her own violets.
- I have begun the violet meditations but will be surprised if I can do them regularly over a two week period.
I shan’t be growing any sweet violets from seed or cuttings, but I may plant a packet of heartsease (viola tricola) later in the year.
I have been quite active with my herbal ally, but not in the order of the set tasks. It doesn’t really matter because the whole process is about developing and maintaining a relationship with your ally and learning more about them.
Yesterday, after making sketches in my general notebook, I realised that a specific notebook for my ally would be a useful thing to have. I love notebooks. I collect them. They sit in a pile in the cupboard under the stairs quietly waiting for me to fill up my current notebooks. They wait years!
The one I chose came from The Works three or four years ago and has a cloth cover. I knew I couldn’t draw or make a paper collage on the fabric, so I thought about embroidering some other material. A piece of old sheet from the airing cupboard was quickly found and my initial sketch of a violet from the garden was copied onto the material.
This was then inserted into my smaller embroidery circle frame and I spent the evening with a needle and silks. I also used up the last scrap of pink ink in the printer printing off all my recent pictures and a title to make a collage for the first page.
This morning Chris was going out to get a new tax disc for the car and came back with some super pritt glue for the material and some basic glue for the pictures. He’s incredibly good at details, so I let him iron and glue on the embroidery and I did the collage. We make a good team.
So here is the first ally challenge completed. It makes me smile and I’m looking forward to filling up the pages of my newly designated journal.
Sunday, 27 March 2011
Violet meditation
Sitting quietly beside a plant or flower and asking it, humbly, to share its wisdom is not an easy task. It could be thought the plant may not wish to share anything with a creature who has just picked a significant proportion of itself and has already eaten both a leaf and a flower.
These acts were done mindfully. I would never have dreamed in a million years that these vibrant spring plants with their delicate scent would now be a significant part of my foraged spring salads, nor that I could be considering the garden violet patch as a cherished food source. Such is the power of making a plant your ally!
Sketching the violet flower from different angles forced me to notice many new aspects of colour and proportion. Eating both flower and leaf made me very aware this was a powerful plant which left a lasting impression on my taste buds, mouth and me. Eating joined me with the plant.
I was sitting on the bench underneath the kitchen window looking out onto the garden. On my left, two large hawthorn trees were now in leaf. On my right, forsythia twined a yellow love spray around the flowering cherry. Golden daffodils swayed gently in the afternoon breeze. Sun shone. The only sounds were robins answering boundary calls occasionally interrupted by the harsh caws of pristine rooks from the tallest branches of a neighbouring fir.
I held the vision of the violet flower in my mind and closed my eyes.
As a healer, it is relatively easy to slip into a grounded state which allows energy to flow where it is needed. I could feel energetic spirals on my hands, knowing there were friends who would benefit from this healing force, but what of the violet?
Although I could see the violet flower, it seemed to be the white centre which was important. As if to emphasise the point, a white space became a fluttering butterfly flapping its wings. Then I saw a bunch of violet flowers growing together, upright. This was on the right hand side of my field of inner vision. The bunch then moved to the centre of my view, fanning out into a circle like a hollow vase.
As I studied this brilliant white central core, I could see the curled petals of a chrysanthemum, or was it a tightly furled water lily? No matter, it was the colour which was important. White, the colour from which all other colours come, symbolising purity, innocence, peace, or deep spirituality. A colour to wash away and cleanse whatever was needful.
Violet flooded my vision and I felt my third eye open, pulsing in the middle of my forehead. The brow chakra - a place of intuition, of deep understanding, of being true to yourself.
I could feel the sun warm on my face. Red came, then white again followed by green. Within the green I could see detailed drawings of violet plants, complex, tall and high in the centre of my inner sight. The green transformed to blue and then to turquoise, such a gentle colour. Purple returned followed again by white. I felt the spirals of energy disappear from both my palms and knew the meditation was over.
What had I learned? It was a simple sentence which came to me during the meditation.
“It is violet which takes us to all that we are.”
Thank you.
These acts were done mindfully. I would never have dreamed in a million years that these vibrant spring plants with their delicate scent would now be a significant part of my foraged spring salads, nor that I could be considering the garden violet patch as a cherished food source. Such is the power of making a plant your ally!
Sketching the violet flower from different angles forced me to notice many new aspects of colour and proportion. Eating both flower and leaf made me very aware this was a powerful plant which left a lasting impression on my taste buds, mouth and me. Eating joined me with the plant.
I was sitting on the bench underneath the kitchen window looking out onto the garden. On my left, two large hawthorn trees were now in leaf. On my right, forsythia twined a yellow love spray around the flowering cherry. Golden daffodils swayed gently in the afternoon breeze. Sun shone. The only sounds were robins answering boundary calls occasionally interrupted by the harsh caws of pristine rooks from the tallest branches of a neighbouring fir.
I held the vision of the violet flower in my mind and closed my eyes.
As a healer, it is relatively easy to slip into a grounded state which allows energy to flow where it is needed. I could feel energetic spirals on my hands, knowing there were friends who would benefit from this healing force, but what of the violet?
Although I could see the violet flower, it seemed to be the white centre which was important. As if to emphasise the point, a white space became a fluttering butterfly flapping its wings. Then I saw a bunch of violet flowers growing together, upright. This was on the right hand side of my field of inner vision. The bunch then moved to the centre of my view, fanning out into a circle like a hollow vase.
As I studied this brilliant white central core, I could see the curled petals of a chrysanthemum, or was it a tightly furled water lily? No matter, it was the colour which was important. White, the colour from which all other colours come, symbolising purity, innocence, peace, or deep spirituality. A colour to wash away and cleanse whatever was needful.
Violet flooded my vision and I felt my third eye open, pulsing in the middle of my forehead. The brow chakra - a place of intuition, of deep understanding, of being true to yourself.
I could feel the sun warm on my face. Red came, then white again followed by green. Within the green I could see detailed drawings of violet plants, complex, tall and high in the centre of my inner sight. The green transformed to blue and then to turquoise, such a gentle colour. Purple returned followed again by white. I felt the spirals of energy disappear from both my palms and knew the meditation was over.
What had I learned? It was a simple sentence which came to me during the meditation.
“It is violet which takes us to all that we are.”
Thank you.
Drawing Violets – another medium
Part of Kristine’s herbal ally art challenge was to try different mediums. Yesterday I sketched plants and coloured them using crayons. Today I gathered a bunch of violet flowers and leaves for another jar of infused vinegar, along with nettle tops, sorrel, jack-in-the-hedge, marjoram and a little rosemary for nettle and stilton soup.
The hour I was in the garden coincided with the sun emerging through the deep cloud cover, so I sat and sketched a violet flower, both full facing and a side view. It was remarkable how much detail could be seen in the delicate flower. The pale green sepals could only be seen from the side view and if you only viewed the flower from this angle (which is the most common view when looking at the plant) you could easily miss, what to me is the most amazing part of the whole flower.
The flower consists of five petals, leading down to the orange stigma in the centre. Each petal is similar but different. They are have a deep, violet pigment for two third of the length which then becomes white as it nears the stigma. It is only when you turn the flower upside down that you notice the largest petal has purple streaks of colour leading down to the stigma in the middle of the flower.
Recent technological advances in infra-red photography have shown how most flowers have “landing lights/lines” to show the bees where to reach the pollen, but it looks as if the violet flower has its own flight path painted onto this one petal!
Once back indoors, I took the plunge to try painting my sketches with watercolours. The crayons I’d been using said they could be used for water colours, but I didn’t understand how until discussing it with my friend last night. He explained what I should do, so today I experimented.
It was surprisingly easy to paint over the shading with a damp brush and gave the sketches a softer, more even look.
I am incredibly grateful to the kind words of praise and encouragement given me by commentators here on my blog and on Facebook. It is so exciting to be dabbling in a world I never thought I could enter.
The hour I was in the garden coincided with the sun emerging through the deep cloud cover, so I sat and sketched a violet flower, both full facing and a side view. It was remarkable how much detail could be seen in the delicate flower. The pale green sepals could only be seen from the side view and if you only viewed the flower from this angle (which is the most common view when looking at the plant) you could easily miss, what to me is the most amazing part of the whole flower.
The flower consists of five petals, leading down to the orange stigma in the centre. Each petal is similar but different. They are have a deep, violet pigment for two third of the length which then becomes white as it nears the stigma. It is only when you turn the flower upside down that you notice the largest petal has purple streaks of colour leading down to the stigma in the middle of the flower.
Recent technological advances in infra-red photography have shown how most flowers have “landing lights/lines” to show the bees where to reach the pollen, but it looks as if the violet flower has its own flight path painted onto this one petal!
Once back indoors, I took the plunge to try painting my sketches with watercolours. The crayons I’d been using said they could be used for water colours, but I didn’t understand how until discussing it with my friend last night. He explained what I should do, so today I experimented.
It was surprisingly easy to paint over the shading with a damp brush and gave the sketches a softer, more even look.
I am incredibly grateful to the kind words of praise and encouragement given me by commentators here on my blog and on Facebook. It is so exciting to be dabbling in a world I never thought I could enter.
Saturday, 26 March 2011
Violets: capturing images
All my life I have known my artistic skills are very limited. I cannot draw or cut straight lines and colouring inside lines was not achievable. I can’t remember what age I was when I knew I could not draw. I remember illustrating my written work in the junior class without any qualms (my primary school only had two classes – infants taught by my mother and juniors taught by Miss Bryan, the headmistress) and I took great delight in designing dresses for the princess of my dreams, even though they all looked the same shape.
I suspect my mother mentioned that my sister’s drawings were more accomplished at some stage, but the real embarrassment came on the transfer to secondary school. Art lessons were not a subject I excelled at. Yet I loved the lino-cut pottery and fabric screen painting we did in the second year. I was even quite pleased with my shading effects when drawing twigs in the third year, but everyone knew art wasn’t a valued subject.
Only people who couldn’t learn Latin and therefore would not be able to go on to learn German or Greek would continue with art lessons to ‘O’ or ‘A’ levels. Those of us destined for academically successful careers were not really supposed to touch art or music with a barge pole. I mean, how could you earn a living from such subjects, and as for sewing or cookery (home economics), those really were for people who couldn’t manage anything else!
So, forty years later, Kristine sets a challenge to draw our herbal ally. Kristine is incredibly skilled in art and design. How on earth am I supposed to do something like that? I quietly forgot about the task, but it remained in the back of my mind.
I know the violets will soon be over. I know I need to do as much with the flowers as I possibly can. Over the past week of glorious weather I have intended, each day, to make more vinegar or a honey or maybe even a flower essence, but work, exhaustion, having little voice and a recurring tooth ache meant I achieved nothing. (You can see I am really good at finding excuses for inactivity!)
Today, it is very cold, cloudy with a light, damp wind. I woke early with my mind determined to think about seed planting instead of sleep. I dug one third of the vegetable bed and planted some peas. We used prunings from the apple tree as pea sticks. I hung the washing out on the line and felt it grow wetter. We sat outside and drank coffee complaining about the cold while the radio cricket commentator complained about heat in Sri Lanka.
Chris disappeared indoors to watch the last of the cricket. I followed. In the middle of removing my jacket, I decided I really would go and sit by the violet bed with my notebook and a pencil and see what happened.
I’d drawn one leaf when Chris called me up to take a phone call. I didn’t use the excuse to go inside, but returned to my chair, pencil and paper. I drew two plants, each with the delicate violet flower hiding amongst vibrant green leaves.
What did I learn? The leaves have a serrated instead of a smooth edge. The leaf has two lobes where it joins the stem. The stem is a circular tube, three or four times as thick as the flower stalk. In the centre of each plant new leaves appear as green tufts. The markings on each leaf are delicate lines, almost like the lines on a hand. They stand out and yet are ethereal.
The violet flower is such a beautiful colour. She hangs her head modestly, reaching only half the height of the leaves. They stand tall all around her, protecting her. The plants felt like family groupings; each one growing one or two flowers, but several leaves with many more to come.
I didn’t hold out much hope for my sketches, but I was quite pleased with the two results. With my increasing long sightedness, they looked better to my naked eye than to the close up camera picture.
I still can’t colour in without crossing the line. I could blame it on a failure to keep a steady hand, but my hand has never been careful or meticulous. The colours are not exactly true, but they are what I had available.
All in all, I’m quite pleased with the results. They will never be great art. I think you can tell they are violets. I hope you can. Maybe I will be courageous with other plants and draw again because the only person I need to please is myself.
I suspect my mother mentioned that my sister’s drawings were more accomplished at some stage, but the real embarrassment came on the transfer to secondary school. Art lessons were not a subject I excelled at. Yet I loved the lino-cut pottery and fabric screen painting we did in the second year. I was even quite pleased with my shading effects when drawing twigs in the third year, but everyone knew art wasn’t a valued subject.
Only people who couldn’t learn Latin and therefore would not be able to go on to learn German or Greek would continue with art lessons to ‘O’ or ‘A’ levels. Those of us destined for academically successful careers were not really supposed to touch art or music with a barge pole. I mean, how could you earn a living from such subjects, and as for sewing or cookery (home economics), those really were for people who couldn’t manage anything else!
So, forty years later, Kristine sets a challenge to draw our herbal ally. Kristine is incredibly skilled in art and design. How on earth am I supposed to do something like that? I quietly forgot about the task, but it remained in the back of my mind.
I know the violets will soon be over. I know I need to do as much with the flowers as I possibly can. Over the past week of glorious weather I have intended, each day, to make more vinegar or a honey or maybe even a flower essence, but work, exhaustion, having little voice and a recurring tooth ache meant I achieved nothing. (You can see I am really good at finding excuses for inactivity!)
Today, it is very cold, cloudy with a light, damp wind. I woke early with my mind determined to think about seed planting instead of sleep. I dug one third of the vegetable bed and planted some peas. We used prunings from the apple tree as pea sticks. I hung the washing out on the line and felt it grow wetter. We sat outside and drank coffee complaining about the cold while the radio cricket commentator complained about heat in Sri Lanka.
Chris disappeared indoors to watch the last of the cricket. I followed. In the middle of removing my jacket, I decided I really would go and sit by the violet bed with my notebook and a pencil and see what happened.
I’d drawn one leaf when Chris called me up to take a phone call. I didn’t use the excuse to go inside, but returned to my chair, pencil and paper. I drew two plants, each with the delicate violet flower hiding amongst vibrant green leaves.
What did I learn? The leaves have a serrated instead of a smooth edge. The leaf has two lobes where it joins the stem. The stem is a circular tube, three or four times as thick as the flower stalk. In the centre of each plant new leaves appear as green tufts. The markings on each leaf are delicate lines, almost like the lines on a hand. They stand out and yet are ethereal.
The violet flower is such a beautiful colour. She hangs her head modestly, reaching only half the height of the leaves. They stand tall all around her, protecting her. The plants felt like family groupings; each one growing one or two flowers, but several leaves with many more to come.
I didn’t hold out much hope for my sketches, but I was quite pleased with the two results. With my increasing long sightedness, they looked better to my naked eye than to the close up camera picture.
I still can’t colour in without crossing the line. I could blame it on a failure to keep a steady hand, but my hand has never been careful or meticulous. The colours are not exactly true, but they are what I had available.
All in all, I’m quite pleased with the results. They will never be great art. I think you can tell they are violets. I hope you can. Maybe I will be courageous with other plants and draw again because the only person I need to please is myself.
Saturday, 19 March 2011
Inspired by herbs
This post is part of the UK Herbarium blog party entitled "Herbal creativity" hosted by Lucinda at Whispering Earth
“Creativity” is one of those words you think you know, but when confronted, as in this month’s blog party, you’re not exactly sure what it means. I looked it up. The dictionary said to be creative is to “make something new which is of value”.
The latter part of the definition is the one I struggle with most. How can you tell if something is valuable or not? To whom do you listen? Individual tastes are so different, what is fashionable and valuable can change almost as quickly as the moon and the tides.
To be creative usually means working with your hands, mind or senses, visualising a concept and then bringing it to life. It can be anything you choose. When you consider herbal creativity, some people might think only of items made from herbs themselves. This could be food, drink, medicines, dyes, clothing, implements or weapons. I’m going to talk about crafts inspired by herbs, where I have used my skills to share something about the herbs I love.
I write stories. All my stories contain herbs in one form or other. Here is an excerpt from “The Bear and the Ivy Lady” published by Loveyoudivine in 2009.
Poetry has always been part of my life. I began writing my own when I was fourteen as a way of making sense of issues which troubled me. I didn’t really start sharing them until I was in my late twenties. Indeed, my mother in law, after reading poems describing two exceptionally difficult events at work, told me I should never show my poems to anyone because they wouldn’t like them!
Luckily, I had the confidence not to take her advice and my first book of poetry was published in 2008, with the audiobook coming out last year. This was a review I received which warmed the cockles of my heart!
From Cherokee for Coffee Time Romance Reviews
Sarah J. Head does an incredible job of painting a picture with every poem she sketches inside At Home and Away. The descriptions are so clear-cut that I could picture and imagine not only the sights and sounds, but the smell and taste, even to the cherries. I found it like walking into a magical garden that opens up for the reader to enjoy all the sights and sounds, allowing a tranquil peace of mind. The assortment blankets the reader in warm thoughts while leaving a joyful sensation inside the heart.
The poems are split between by my gardens and Cornwall. Here is a spring poem
Spring Colours
I came searching for yellow
You showed me daffodils wafting in soft spring breeze
Primroses dancing by the well
A single celandine nestling in grass
It’s star of sunlight pulsing gold amidst green.
Catkins blowing from treetop height over the pond
Their pollen shed, no longer yellow but brown.
I came searching for white
You showed me dazzling bells of snowdrops edged in green
Furred backs of small burdock leaves
Twin plants hiding at the willow’s foot.
I came searching for red
You showed me thin slivers of marshmallow overshadowed by aquilegia
Bright spears of Echinacea pushing upwards towards the sun
Each new shoot the colour of blood, of life.
I came searching for green
You showed me grass, long and damp
Vibrant woad shining proudly above brown soil
Curled cuckoo pint thrusting their way through every surface
Their heart-shaped leaves unfolding with new promise.
Tiny elder leaves bursting from each twig,
Narrow edges thrusting their way into the light
Young nettles, their velvet crimps so enticing
Stinging unwary fingers
Yielding their green to a boiling brew
A toast to freshness, Springtime, new strength!
Poems can be visual, thoughtful or descriptive. Their rhythm can also be used for incantation. Here’s one I wrote several years ago which accompanied tinctures sent to a friend to support them during an especially difficult time.
Distant healing
By the power of the sun I send thee strength
By the power of earth I ground thee
By the power of the moon I send thee peace
By the power of air I send thee love
By the power of oak I send the fortitude
By the power of rowan I protect thee
By the power of elder to watch over thee
By the power of hawthorn I give thee heart
With my hands I picked the herbs
With my hands I steeped them
With my hands I strained the marc
With my hands I poured it
Through my hands flow healing
Through my heart flows love
Through my head I send thee wisdom
Through my mouth I speak the words
To make it so!
Be well, be safe, be at peace!
So mote it be.
The rhythm of words flows naturally into music. All my family are musicians, from my maternal grandmother and her sisters who played their local church organs across three counties, my great-grandfather who took his piano on a wheelbarrow through the streets of Willenhall in the Black Country to earn a few extra pennies during the Great Depression and my Great Aunt who sang professionally in Birmingham and Stratford on Avon at the turn of the 20th century. My sister and I both teach piano. All my children learned instruments, two are singer/songwriters and my daughter is now starting out on a professional music career.
Where do herbs come into all this? I thought you might like to share two herbal songs created in 2010 which were sung at the herb festival held at Springfield Sanctuary last September. The first is a tongue in cheek blues number put together by Stephen and Kathryn in half an hour called “The Summerhouse Blues” and the second is mine, “An Acre of Land”.
If you think of herb songs, everyone’s favourite would probably be “Scarborough Faire” because of the line, “Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme”. This ancient song was originally taken from Child’s “The Elfin Lord”, collected in the sixteenth century when an Elf Lord wanted to marry a young woman, who wasn’t keen, so she set him a series of impossible tasks.
One of those tasks was to “Find me an acre of land between the sea and the shore.” This sentence spawned another folk song called “An Acre of Land”, which I first heard sung at the Cheltenham Folk Festival several years ago. It is another “magical song” which talks about sowing with a thimble, harrowing with a bramble bush and reaping with a penknife.
As my father has indeed given me an acre of land, I wanted to write a song of my own and this was the result. There are lots of herbal references and the tune was inspired by “A frog he would a wooing go” – a nursery rhyme I sang as a child. It is nowhere near as professionally crafted as my children’s, but it was fun and everyone joined in the singing.
What other crafts do herbs inspire? Embroidery is one. I have a herbal tarot set made by Michael Tierra and Candis Cantin. I love them and two years ago I made a bag to keep both the cards and book together while we were on holiday in Cornwall.. One side is a wheat corn dolly and the other, a set of fir trees we could see from the caravan window.
I have another embroidery project inspired by herbs. When Anne McIntyre asked me to speak at this year’s Herbfest in July, I wanted to wear something which would signify a kitchen herbwife. My original thought was a cloak, but I have settled on a summer cotton stole decorated with herbs. It will probably take me several years to make and wont’ be ready for my talk, but this article pushed me to buy material and get at least one herb stencil drawn. Which herb? My ally, viola odorata.
Everyone has skills of some description and herbs have inspired cooks, artists, poets and musicians since time began. No matter how large or small, every act of creativity is valuable because of the delight brought by their creation.
“Creativity” is one of those words you think you know, but when confronted, as in this month’s blog party, you’re not exactly sure what it means. I looked it up. The dictionary said to be creative is to “make something new which is of value”.
The latter part of the definition is the one I struggle with most. How can you tell if something is valuable or not? To whom do you listen? Individual tastes are so different, what is fashionable and valuable can change almost as quickly as the moon and the tides.
To be creative usually means working with your hands, mind or senses, visualising a concept and then bringing it to life. It can be anything you choose. When you consider herbal creativity, some people might think only of items made from herbs themselves. This could be food, drink, medicines, dyes, clothing, implements or weapons. I’m going to talk about crafts inspired by herbs, where I have used my skills to share something about the herbs I love.
I write stories. All my stories contain herbs in one form or other. Here is an excerpt from “The Bear and the Ivy Lady” published by Loveyoudivine in 2009.
Poetry has always been part of my life. I began writing my own when I was fourteen as a way of making sense of issues which troubled me. I didn’t really start sharing them until I was in my late twenties. Indeed, my mother in law, after reading poems describing two exceptionally difficult events at work, told me I should never show my poems to anyone because they wouldn’t like them!
Luckily, I had the confidence not to take her advice and my first book of poetry was published in 2008, with the audiobook coming out last year. This was a review I received which warmed the cockles of my heart!
From Cherokee for Coffee Time Romance Reviews
Sarah J. Head does an incredible job of painting a picture with every poem she sketches inside At Home and Away. The descriptions are so clear-cut that I could picture and imagine not only the sights and sounds, but the smell and taste, even to the cherries. I found it like walking into a magical garden that opens up for the reader to enjoy all the sights and sounds, allowing a tranquil peace of mind. The assortment blankets the reader in warm thoughts while leaving a joyful sensation inside the heart.
The poems are split between by my gardens and Cornwall. Here is a spring poem
Spring Colours
I came searching for yellow
You showed me daffodils wafting in soft spring breeze
Primroses dancing by the well
A single celandine nestling in grass
It’s star of sunlight pulsing gold amidst green.
Catkins blowing from treetop height over the pond
Their pollen shed, no longer yellow but brown.
I came searching for white
You showed me dazzling bells of snowdrops edged in green
Furred backs of small burdock leaves
Twin plants hiding at the willow’s foot.
I came searching for red
You showed me thin slivers of marshmallow overshadowed by aquilegia
Bright spears of Echinacea pushing upwards towards the sun
Each new shoot the colour of blood, of life.
I came searching for green
You showed me grass, long and damp
Vibrant woad shining proudly above brown soil
Curled cuckoo pint thrusting their way through every surface
Their heart-shaped leaves unfolding with new promise.
Tiny elder leaves bursting from each twig,
Narrow edges thrusting their way into the light
Young nettles, their velvet crimps so enticing
Stinging unwary fingers
Yielding their green to a boiling brew
A toast to freshness, Springtime, new strength!
Poems can be visual, thoughtful or descriptive. Their rhythm can also be used for incantation. Here’s one I wrote several years ago which accompanied tinctures sent to a friend to support them during an especially difficult time.
Distant healing
By the power of the sun I send thee strength
By the power of earth I ground thee
By the power of the moon I send thee peace
By the power of air I send thee love
By the power of oak I send the fortitude
By the power of rowan I protect thee
By the power of elder to watch over thee
By the power of hawthorn I give thee heart
With my hands I picked the herbs
With my hands I steeped them
With my hands I strained the marc
With my hands I poured it
Through my hands flow healing
Through my heart flows love
Through my head I send thee wisdom
Through my mouth I speak the words
To make it so!
Be well, be safe, be at peace!
So mote it be.
The rhythm of words flows naturally into music. All my family are musicians, from my maternal grandmother and her sisters who played their local church organs across three counties, my great-grandfather who took his piano on a wheelbarrow through the streets of Willenhall in the Black Country to earn a few extra pennies during the Great Depression and my Great Aunt who sang professionally in Birmingham and Stratford on Avon at the turn of the 20th century. My sister and I both teach piano. All my children learned instruments, two are singer/songwriters and my daughter is now starting out on a professional music career.
Where do herbs come into all this? I thought you might like to share two herbal songs created in 2010 which were sung at the herb festival held at Springfield Sanctuary last September. The first is a tongue in cheek blues number put together by Stephen and Kathryn in half an hour called “The Summerhouse Blues” and the second is mine, “An Acre of Land”.
If you think of herb songs, everyone’s favourite would probably be “Scarborough Faire” because of the line, “Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme”. This ancient song was originally taken from Child’s “The Elfin Lord”, collected in the sixteenth century when an Elf Lord wanted to marry a young woman, who wasn’t keen, so she set him a series of impossible tasks.
One of those tasks was to “Find me an acre of land between the sea and the shore.” This sentence spawned another folk song called “An Acre of Land”, which I first heard sung at the Cheltenham Folk Festival several years ago. It is another “magical song” which talks about sowing with a thimble, harrowing with a bramble bush and reaping with a penknife.
As my father has indeed given me an acre of land, I wanted to write a song of my own and this was the result. There are lots of herbal references and the tune was inspired by “A frog he would a wooing go” – a nursery rhyme I sang as a child. It is nowhere near as professionally crafted as my children’s, but it was fun and everyone joined in the singing.
What other crafts do herbs inspire? Embroidery is one. I have a herbal tarot set made by Michael Tierra and Candis Cantin. I love them and two years ago I made a bag to keep both the cards and book together while we were on holiday in Cornwall.. One side is a wheat corn dolly and the other, a set of fir trees we could see from the caravan window.
I have another embroidery project inspired by herbs. When Anne McIntyre asked me to speak at this year’s Herbfest in July, I wanted to wear something which would signify a kitchen herbwife. My original thought was a cloak, but I have settled on a summer cotton stole decorated with herbs. It will probably take me several years to make and wont’ be ready for my talk, but this article pushed me to buy material and get at least one herb stencil drawn. Which herb? My ally, viola odorata.
Everyone has skills of some description and herbs have inspired cooks, artists, poets and musicians since time began. No matter how large or small, every act of creativity is valuable because of the delight brought by their creation.
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