New Doll In The Works

This is her in a really rough draft stage...she is currently awaiting some beads and wiring....

Pictures of The Oak Spirit Travel Doll

Doll Discussion

I finished creating an Oak Spirit doll last night. When I went to bed, I thought I would get up this morning and add some sewing to her cloak. Not embroidery per se, just random stitches.

When I woke up this morning, I went to her and spoke to her. Which is what I do. I had to ask her if she needed or wanted anything else.
No. She doesn't. She's very happy.

She's wearing a traveling cloak. All my dolls seem to be Journey dolls.

Originally, Oak Spirit was just a stick, a stick with an agenda, since I kept dragging that particular stick all over the house with me, whenever I planned to have anything doll oriented around. There she was. She sat on my personal altar I don't know how long, just a stick, not really saying much at all.

I cleared and cleaned and re-consecrated my altar this week. There she was. A stick. She spoke up then. She asked for something then. The next day I wrapped her with this funky wool novelty (no other name for it) yarn I have a clump of sitting here on my computer desk, staring at me. I wrapped her body and tied it on.

The next day, I pulled a polymer clay face from the tin I keep the ready to paint ones in. The face sat here on top my computer, nowhere near the stick. I painted the face that night and let it dry.

The next afternoon, face and stick met, with the aid of some gorilla glue. Never shall they part again.

She sat here, for two days. It seemed to me she was done, nearly naked little thing that she was. Last night, I took the remnants of my favorite birthday yarn and wrapped it around the upper branches, more like a crown than hair.

She sat for a few hours more, humming softly to herself. It was rather lovely.

Then, when I determined I would get some housework done before bed, she spoke up. She asked for wool. I have that pile of sweaters waiting to be turned into a blanket, so I went digging. Found a lovely piece of felted grey wool, with roses.

I ended up using some to wrap around her body, to provide bulk under the cloak. Then I put on the cloak. Wrapped some more of the funky yarn around that. Cut the fringe into the bottom of the cloak.

I set her aside, planning to sew the edge of the cloak along the side edge or whatever the next day, and I went to bed. I did see then that she was ready to travel. I noticed. I did not ponder it, however. I simply accepted it as a matter of course. I was tired. I needed to sleep.

This morning, I took a look at her and I knew: she was done.

She's ready for her Journey.

I wonder where she's going to go.
I wonder where she's planning to take me.

Dolls.

I always worry about using glue on them for some reason, even though I use such tiny amounts.

Someone once made a negative comment to me about a person who used glue in a certain sacred project--and that malice haunts me when I create my dolls. I need some other materials for my dolls, I know. I would be happier with various mosses.
My oak stick comes from a tree that was blown down by a storm. My boyfriend helped clear away the debris and he brought me some of the smaller branches. He's good that way. I hadn't even asked him.

I need more things of this nature. I know I do.

I think my current dolls are trying very hard to tell me something. These ones are not for sale. At least, not yet anyway. I am not confident enough in my skills, nor do I feel as if I have found that certain Space from which these dolls come for other people.

I will have to spend more time talking w Oak Spirit especially. I wonder what she will have to say.

I will post pictures of her soon...as soon as I am willing to sit down and work with my camera. I need to photograph a bunch of stuff from my Wreck This Journal 'project'. It is no longer a journal--it's barely a stack of papers held together with a rubber band at this point....

Until next time...

Elizabeth

I told you about the e-course I am taking from Artella?
"Making Change With Your Muse" is the name of the course.

As with all things, I have to wait for my Muse to really whack me into action. So many things have to do with timing.

Today is the day when I finally pulled everything together and finished my doll.

I started with the clay forms.



Chose one as the right one for this project.


Found a face for her.

Attached her face. Waited a few days for the glue to settle and cure.




Today, I pulled up pieces from an old destroyed quilt and a cashmere sweater accidentally felted.








Her name is Elizabeth. It says so right by her head.
There is a layer of pink felted cashmere as an underskirt. Then two layers of ratty old quilt as her dress. Tied with a piece of caron simply soft yarn. The number of knots to tie the yarn are significant-at least to me.
I cannot tell you for sure, but I think the pink felted cashmere around her head is more of a wimple. An, yes, it does seem to be blowing in the wind, doesn't it. :-)
No wings for this angel. But that doesn't mean she can't fly.
:-)

The Girls

Now awaiting names.
Now everything is dry and solid and sewn on and reinforced and everything.

Tweedledum

I actually worked on this one first.

Tweedledee

I really did the same thing I usually do. I turned my brain off and said-what do you want. My hands moved and I figured out what I had done afterwards.

Tweedle needs a new name and a story. But at least she and her sister are now officially done.

Next dolls are really going to be different. I know what I want now.

Spirit Journey

I am going to make a Spirit Doll. I need to make something for me. I need to gather up my strength and my courage and bind it in place so that it will best serve me.
I cannot buy this guide. I cannot allow someone else to replicate it for me. It must come from my own heart and from my own hands.
How can I accomplish this task? I am of the Older Set, where things come into being when their time is right, not when any other thing says, yes, the time is good to do this thing. The time is ripe right now for me to do this thing myself. Even as the Moon does grow full, and others will have me say that, yes, this is the right time of the Moon to take this Journey and make this Thing. It is simply not so for me. My own time is now to do this thing, no matter where the Moon in Her sky.
I gather my tools. How can this be? I take a long hot shower, cleansing and purging body and soul, clearing my mind with thoughts of patience and joy. I wear clean clothes, my colours, off-white and denim blue. I amass my hair and twirl it into a knot, holding it in place with two sticks someone else painted for my enjoyment. Dancing girls, the geisha, in my hair today. I find myself putting on my formal wear, my jewelry, at throat and wrist and hand. Everything else is already prepared.
I gather my breath, centering myself, steady and sure of what I am going, where I must go. I set off, shutting the door behind me, leaving the string out that I might re-enter when the time arrives.
Down the walk, past the flowers. My head-cold no longer a bother to me. I can smell the rose, the lily, the hawthorn tree standing next to me. I stop at my drive, again taking air in deep, seeking to know which way on the map in my heart I should turn, which way should I go.
One foot in front of the other, my Journey has started. I no longer see the crushed gravel. No longer hear the airplanes whirring overhead. No longer feel the energy tingling through the power lines. I can See. I have far to go.
Walking. Into the clouds. Through the dust. Beside the Great River, swollen and muddy, straining under Her heavy load of loam and crust. My feet enjoy the change beneath them, from packed solid dirt aching with the heat of the day to the cool smooth unsolid soil giving way at each step.
I hear the Voices. The Voices, my Ancestors. Calling to me. Cawing. Instructing. Pulling me on. Urging me. I am one with Them. Allowed, permitted, requested into Their Territory.
I take one step in, in too deep, and I am gone, to the Place Above, Beyond the Land. I am on Wing, singing through the skies, amazed by the depths of my sight, the raven song in my ears, bursting from my throat. I am Called. I am Beckoned. I respond, with glee. I arrive, at the Great Fire, where we all settle in and offer up our exchanges.
There is smoke in my eyes. Tears falling down. Hearts breaking. A rock pounded by a hammer until it breaks in two. I am shown the jewels I have hidden within. The Emerald reaches out to Speak, to Touch me, to Hold my hand. I am too weak. Others gather near to me, cushioning me, holding me, supporting me. I cannot back down. This is my Gift. I am to accept it. It is mine to keep.
I bow my head. After all this has long been the one thing I seek. I accept. Gracious and quiet. A humble child unable to speak. There are kisses, so light on my cheek. I am the Brave One. There is no deceit.
I find myself back on my Path. Walking my way home, back to the street, back to my life. I must not show up alone. For now, the Spirit Walks with me. The one I am to use. The one I created for my own special self, of my own special self.
I gather with me the twigs, the moss, the stones, things fallen there at my feet. I pick them up, one by one, and tuck them into my pockets.
Back inside my home. I pull the string and the door opens wide. I am in. Assembly begins.
The rocking. The rolling. Manipulating the skin, the face. Painting. Imbibing. Allowing. So well-endowed with the Mysteries. My Sight parting and my eyes opening.
There on the table before me, sitting in regal glory, sits the song of my heart, my Raven Queen.

Key Dolls Done

I so wish I could re-find that website that gave me the idea to use keys to make spirit dolls. The woman used old latex house paint to dip the keys in--and then she hung them from the trees in her yard. It was spectacular.

I did a little bit more and I am looking forward into turning these little 9 faery dolls (as my dd has since told me they are) into a hanging mobile.