Ivy berries and the sweetness of a sad heart.
New colour + the alchemy of feeling.
The Tree Entwining Ivy
I will pluck the tree-entwining ivy
As Mary plucked with her one hand
As the King of life was ordained
To put milk in udder and gland
With speckled fair female calves
As was spoken in the prophecy
On this foundation for a year and a day
Through the bosom of the God of life and all the powers.Carmina Galdelica Volume 1. A gathered anthology of Gaelic oral traditions.
Alexander Carmichael.
Hello folks,
The INKLINGS this fortnight come to you wrapped in the twine of ivy. Ivy is a plant of old magic, appearing in folklore, poetry and song through the ages. It is a symbol of interwoven strength, for the way it uses other trees and plants to support its growth. It is said to protect good friendship and be a reminder of the power of flexible, spiraling tenacity in the face of life’s challenges.
I have been enjoying working with the ivy berry this last two months. The berries coming into a humble ripening in the early months of the year. There is nothing particularly glitzy about these little balls sprouting among the glossy green evergreen. Oh how fooled I was! Popping them in the ink pot and adding some juicy modifiers created this dazzling rich pink, mossy greens and inky blue-greys.
If this is a new plant for you and you are also keen to explore its layers and colour depths, please do take the necessary precautions when handling and boiling. I did notice my skin feeling sensitised when it came into contact. Always heat in a well ventilated space, use protective clothing and keep away from small humans and pets.
It always needs saying. Respecting the makeup of these plants that bring so much heartblowing delight is vital. One day I will tell you all about the week of the Yew Berries and the stampeding cows. *shudder*
All hail mother nature!
May Day and the Sweetness of a Sad Heart.
The dew is heavy this morning. Dandelion clocks hold the droplets like tears on bare eyelashes. May has been an overcast month so far with life bursting in the moisture. We are shuffling towards a new light together. In the awakening of the land and year plans for gatherings, festivals, markets, and other humans comes a tenderness in my heart.
This I know to be natural.
This I know to be all part of what it is to live truly.
And yet allowing a tenderness can be a grapple and a grind. The resistance and distraction find novel and old ways of keeping the attention away from the squirm. I get busy looking the other way.
When I speak of creativity and living a “creative life” I am not just talking of the methods and materials I use to make ink, or work on paper, a finished project to show and tell you about. It is all rooted in how I respond to the reality of what I find right here.
In the words of Tara Brach “Living from an awake heart is what most matters.”
“Daring to be in the arena”, as Brene Brown says. Daring to be vulnerable. Daring to love, to create, to try something new, to be open to what life has to offer and stay open to it. This means risking failure, emotional backlash and all kinds of wonderful learning, growth and connection.
Daring to begin.
This week I have been with sadness. Not as a permanent feature, but as an undercurrent. I have noticed my mind going into overdrive of ‘trying to work it out’ - “but why am I sad?! So much is great! What have you got to be sad about?! Oh come on…. FFS. Not this again.” Those parts of me that are doing their best to protect against the deep vulnerability of what it is to FEEL.
I mean, I could put in a whole heap of jolly good and understandable reasons why I feel sad here, but simply speaking them doesn’t always help me to sit with and begin to soften the heavy dew in my heart. It can tie me up in knots and get me lost down the rabbit hole of “ok, so THAT’S what I need to do to feel better… thank goodness I have a 7 point action plan!”
What does help in the speaking these things, and going on a wild goose chase of finding reasons, is doing this with a friend, or indeed a paid professional, who won’t jump onto the FIX IT WAGON with me and will allow me to unravel with them, soon to land on the sweet release of a good old sob.
Being sad is not a character flaw.
Being sad does not mean you have done anything wrong.
Being sad is not a bad thing.
Being sad is not a failure.
Being sad does not need fixing.
Being sad is simply being sad.
As my dear friend kindly pointed out, which really got the waterworks going, “sadness is love in a different form.”
I am sad because I love. Because I have lost. Because I care. Because my heart is open.
We have all experienced, lost, loved and cared so much over these last two years. If you are too feeling sad, or a sense of bittersweetness among the emerging beauty of Spring and Summer, know that you are not alone and you are certainly not bad or wrong.
There is a sweetness to a sad heart and to feeling the tears roll and the snot seep. (Always so much snot.)
I know of a lovely friend who has a special Spotify playlist of tear-jerking music to help her release her tears when she can feel they are stuck below the surface. I love this act of care for sadness. Giving it its own space and soundtrack. Welcoming it in.
To know that the way back to the lightness and love of the heart is within the sadness that can too sit within it.
In Loving Arms - Jeff Foster.
If you feel sad for no reason,
embrace the reasonless spontaneity
in your sadness.In the first light of the morning
when you hear the bird singing
her spontaneous song,
you’re not pushing for “reason.”Sadness does not arise to be healed.
It arises to be heard.
It arises to be held,
here, in loving arms
of awareness.
What sweetness can we bring to ourselves in the moments when we find sadness is paying us a visit?
I am a big fan of cushions, woolen layers and candlelight.
Of pausing with a mug of creamy Chicory at an open door, or sitting in the garden.
Of planning nourishing meals for the evening and delicious lunches made with a slow care.
Of planting seeds and weeding the flower beds.
Of making a phone date with a friend and picking scented flowers for a small vase on my desk.
Of asking for a hug and chatting about the day-to-day.
Of early nights and easy-to-read novels.
Feeling the feels does not need to involve austerity and coldness.
In fact, we NEED the opposite.
We may feel we don’t deserve sweetness.
I am here to tell you we do.
These are small and profound creative acts of allowing what IS rather than what we feel SHOULD be here right now.
What sweet openness to life lies in this allowing.
With love
Kathryn x
Contact me: hello@kathrynjohn.co.uk
Field Notes:
Heartstopper on Netflix. For anyone who has missed the delicious noises that this new release has inspired. Young queer love written beautifully.
The Green Scythe Fair in Somerset is back on the weekend of June 11th-12th. I will be there running 2-hour Pigment Paint Making workshops 10-12 and 2-4pm on the Saturday, and with a Natural Ink. stall on the Sunday too. Get in touch with me at hello@kathrynjohn.co.uk to book your spot.
You can also find me at Tobacco Factory Market in Bristol this coming Sunday 8th May and again at Sherborne Market on Sunday 15th May. With inks, bundles, cards, artworks, seeds and seedlings.