#sweetgrass flowers

[iromyshop]

before paint and resin... el naturale

[iromy0027]

hmmm. good quote.

“I have survivor skills. Some of that is superficial - what I present to people outwardly - but what makes people resilient is the ability to find humour and irony in situations that would otherwise overpower you.” - #AmyTan … … … . In the Photo are All Natural Palm Leaf Roses without any added colors. The cool thing is that of all those Roses some may end up in Asia, some Europe, some America and really only God knows but they will surely all go around the world farther than myself. . . . … . . . #rosemanj #roses #palmart #artsanity @art_sanity #artfido @artfido #nawden @nawden #worldofartists @worldofartists #art_collective @art_collective #spotlightonartists @spotlightonartists #artistuniversity @artistuniversity #theartzz @the.artzz #art_conquest @art_conquest #art__conquest @art__conquest #art_conquestz @art_conquestz #artisticexplorer @artistic.explorer #artdiscovered @artdiscovered #arts_help @artshelp #art @art #artmagazine @art.magazine #artistic_nation @artistic_nation #artsupporting @artsupporting #dailyarts @daily.arts #artist_4_shoutout @instartpics #worldwide_publicity @worldwide_publicity #art_spotlight @art_spotlight #artacademy @art.academy

[iromy0027]

the symbol stands for strength, protection, faith, and other good energy.. I hope you get all of that today.

vero.co/iromy/ZTLX-MLng38Qc4Cr4pQkjStg

[the-bramble--patch]

"Naturalist E. O. Wilson writes, “There can be no purpose more inspiring than to begin the age of restoration, reweaving the wondrous diversity of life that still surrounds us.” The stories are piling up all around in scraps of land being restored: trout streams reclaimed from siltation, brownfields turned into community gardens, prairies reclaimed from soybeans, wolves howling in their old territories, schoolkids helping salamanders across the road. If your heart isn’t raised by the sight of whooping cranes restored to their ancient flyway, you must not have a pulse. It’s true that these victories are as small and fragile as origami cranes, but their power moves as inspiration. Your hands itch to pull out invasive species and replant the native flowers. Your finger trembles with a wish to detonate the explosion of an obsolete dam that would restore a salmon run. These are antidotes to the poison of despair."

-Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass

[scudslut]

mornings would be slow.

calm and strangely serene, for the world you lived in. sometimes he would be there when you woke, plucking away at whatever he’d been working on, but most often he was gone. you’d feel the stirring with the first glimpses of light that passed through your curtains, and soon the heat beside you would fade.

and though he was gone without a creak on the tarnished floorboards, there was evidence of him everywhere. anywhere you looked held a memory, even if it was but a scent. arrows littered every empty surface, shreds of his clothing that once served a purpose were now made into things. dish clothes, towels, ponchos. there’d be little bouquets of dried flowers you kept from him; as bookmarks, decorations, or in jars to make teas during the late autumn afternoons. ones where he was home, sat beside you in the most comfortable silence. reading, wittling, simply being.

it was nothing grand what you shared. but it was. grand and simple and cherished.

sun would braid through his auburn hair in the summer. head laid in your lap, a blanket underneath you while you fiddled with a beaten up acoustic guitar he had found. you weren’t any good, and neither was he, but you both enjoyed the hobby. he chewed sweetgrass with his eyes closed, absorbing the little melodies you attempted to create. you’d sing if there was a breeze, quietly, allowing the wind in the trees to drown your pitch. “you should do it more often. wanna hear ya,” daryl would mumble and you’d smile soft, maybe, one day.

his hands, rough and calloused, drew shapes on your legs mindlessly, though you faintly recognized the patterns of little suns and crescent moons. sometimes you felt hearts on each of your knees and if you really focused, “i love you,” was spelt slowly on a little patch of your inner thigh.

his skin was rough compared to yours, but when he’d look up reaching forward to press his lips to yours gently, the softest skin enveloped you. slow and smooth, short and sweet, grand and so so simple.

a/n: here’s a little drabble of my inner monologue and imaginings when i listen to cannock chase and think about a life with daryl. stop waiting by cigarettes after sex was played many times while writing this too

[creacherkeeper]

when you didn't even know you needed a second chance

{the good bones, maggie smith / summer doorway with african lilies, phyllis dodd / sputnik sweetheart, haruki murakami / ashe vernon / phoebe wahl / creacherkeeper / braiding sweetgrass, robin wall kimmerer / love poem with apologies for my appearance, ada limón / @korocore / i am offering this poem, jimmy santiago baca}

[ID: ten images, 8 of text and 2 paintings, in a litstack

1: [...] though I keep this from my children. I am trying to sell them the world. Any decent realtor, walking you through a real shithole, chirps on about good bones: This place could be beautiful, right? You could make this place beautiful.

2: a realistic painting in soft colors of a potted african lily plan sitting outside the open doorway of a home. beyond the door there are more plants in a garden

3: I have this strange feeling that I'm not myself anymore. It's hard to put into words, but I guess it's like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.

4: So maybe this time, love doesn't kick down the door-- / doesn't rattle the windows or plant weeds in the flower garden. / Maybe you can't smell the smoke because, / for once, / nothing is burning.

5: There is a little house somewhere, surrounded by green cedar boughs, where we are eating oatcakes with honey, dipping them in our tea three times for good luck. Somewhere I am sitting with you in stillness.

6: Calm, for the most part. Also tired, also worried, also nervous, also scared, also sad, but those things were just … always swimming around inside her somewhere. Sometimes they were quiet, sometimes they were bigger. They’d been quiet the last few days. It seemed another emotion had replaced them, a subtle sort of ache around her chest, a pang of longing that she had long come to recognize. / She really missed Morel.

7: [...] found her barefoot in the garden, planting beans and helping me fill my pail with earthworms that were severed by her shovel. I thought I could nurse them back to health in the worm hospital I constructed beneath the irises. She encouraged me in this, always saying, "There is no hurt that can't be healed by love."

8: I do like I do in the tall grass, more animal-me than much else. I'm wrong, it is that I love you, but it's more that when you say it back, lights out, a cold wind through the curtains, for maybe the first time in my life, I believe it.

9: a painting of many pastel flowers. the flowers are painted using thick brush strokes to give the petals a raised texture

10: I love you, / I have nothing else to give you, / so it is a pot full of yellow corn / to warm your belly in winter, / it is a scarf for your head, / to wear over your hair, / to tie up around your face. / I love you,

end ID]

[ishanijasmin]

alive alive

contemplating the living forces of nature, thinking about life beyond biology (the layperson's perspective)

i have been thinking a lot about how the earth is alive. maybe even how the world is alive. like, alive alive. the all-singing, all-dancing, moving, caressing, feeling, vibing atmosphere that we have all found ourselves in. the twinkle of the stars, the erosion of a cliff face, the coming and going of the seasons, the whip of the wind, the rise and fall of the sea, the trickle of a stream. so much of the earth is not what we regard as being alive, and i find it fundamentally unusual that we reserve the idea of life for things that manifest in a specific way. i’m not a biologist, and the science of the universe baffles me. but i don’t know how to stand at the edge of an ocean, my feet slowly being consumed by the waves, wet silt building slowly around my ankles to stabilise me, without thinking, ‘what is this, if not alive?’ what does the ocean do if not soothe? what do the cliffs do if not hold?

last week i took a boat trip to berlenga island, just off the coast of lisbon. i am always humbled by the ocean—by its vastness, and as someone for whom the titanic is always in mind, by its mercy. on the journey back to the hotel, i sat on the floating front of the prow of our little boat for a while and let my legs dangle, watching the waves, and it was as close as you can probably be to riding the sea.

as i got progressively more queasy, i followed the patterns for a long time, and i couldn’t really figure out which direction anything moved in, including myself. lost at sea, immeasurably. so later, i looked it up. did you know waves move in circles? you probably did. i didn’t. i have absolutely no idea how these natural processes work. if i were in an ancient civilisation, i would get hit by wind exactly one time before being like, ‘wow, this is witchcraft, i’m doomed.’ wind: caused by the varying pressures in the atmosphere? hot air rises and cold air rushes in? a mystery! feels plenty alive to me! why does it hit my face the way it does—why some days the gentle stroke of a breeze on my sweaty back in the summer, and others a force big enough to move oceans? why at the same time? lisbon is a particularly significant place to be thinking about this: a city plighted by earthquake, great fire, and tsunami in a matter of hours, and left to rebuild from the wreckage.

i’ve had this in over my head experience with windsurfing and paragliding, as well. the wind, never tamed, but understood by people who’ve been observing it for a lifetime and who still prefer to use modern technology to double check their voyages are safe. a respect and a fear instilled by regarding these changes around us as almost alive. almost.

it’s not that i don’t trust scientists when they explain simple geological concepts to me—i suppose it’s like intellectually knowing something rather than intrinsically knowing it deep, deep in your bones. how can you demystify that? how can the winds—the oceans, the lakes, the tectonic plates, the rock formations and volcanoes—how can they not be alive? they are growing, shrinking, subsisting and existing like all of us, not just to hold life as an ecosystem, but as motion in themselves—erosion, weathering, death and becoming.

i have been reading braiding sweetgrass of late, which is where a good deal of thinking about this comes from. in the book (at least the half of it i’ve read so far), kimmerer talks a lot about the reciprocity between people and land, and the idea that we are all alive and that the earth, the sky, the land and its processes are not a dead ‘it’ while we are an alive ‘they’. the earth is being all the time and so am i and so are we all, and it’s kind of hard to think about and also to not think about.

where am i with all this? breathing through the crushing feeling in my chest that has kept me company every day since i can remember; thinking about doing laundry, about growing a flower trail up the side of my apartment that the kids next door won’t prick themselves on, on getting rid of the fungus gnats that are plaguing a couple of my plants, about my husband who has a headache and is squinting, about recharging. the ecology and community of self is as alive as anything else. dwelling on the world and where we all fit into it and how to preserve ourselves and each other—the human each other, the animal each other, the plant each other, the tectonic plate rock formation beach gravestone church road brick wall limestone cliff fossilised shell firewood smelted and mined ring earthquake each other.

[etherealacademia]

my signature fall scent this year will be Grasslands (formerly Sweetgrass) from libertine fragrance.

It's described as: "Late September steals the dying breath of summer: golden flowers, golden fields, golden skin"

[smelislime]

pretty silly ones

music is invisible colour

[solar-sunnyside-up]

Genuinely would love you to read you go off about invasive and native plants. I feel like there’s a bit of nuance where if we cultivate plants in an area they’re not native to then it’s all good as long as we’re using them and making sure they don’t spread outside of containment. (Maybe within buildings so critters won’t eat their seeds and spread them that way.) and like I understand that some plants have been brought over by people who miss the literal taste of their home. And there’s plants that are now widely used around the world that aren’t native there. Tomatoes, potatoes, corn, wheat, different types of rice, fruit trees, berries, and so on. Not to mention the plants that are used for ornaments or Medicinal usage. They’re so wide spread that it would be hard to pin everything down if we want to cut back on non native invasive plants. (And then there’s plants native to an area that have the qualities to become invasive to said area if they don’t have anything to keep them in check like their designated herbivores. Or just fucking mint.)

So actually my whole thing with Invasive vs Native plants comes from this thought I ran across in Braiding Sweetgrass - particularly when she talks about White Man's Foot - and how despite it being from a foreign place, trailing colonists wherever they went thus the name, that it has herbal properties and that it didn't snuff out surrounding plants actually it fulfilled a niche that allowed for other plants to not get as swallowed up in the area as they dug railroad tracks and other settlements. Thus, to at least the indigenous groups in the area, this plant is NOT invasive and is actually used in some stories about how settlers can themselves become "Native to place"

So for me - the question is: is it invasive if it overpowers its brothers and sister? What if it fullfills a role otherwise empty? At what point is it more harmful to attempt to remove the plant then to just rebalance out the area?

Like Dandelions, we know they're so all over the place because their root structure fills in the role of what natural wild flowers do. This deep root bringing everything up and soaking up deeper water bc of this they grow so quickly even being symbols of spring, but they snuff out their brother and sister plants. Now is this simply bc we still have lawns? Or is the problem deeper rooted?

The reason they are here in the first place is because of they have so many uses! They are food, medical, they can be coffee or wine! You can spin yarn from them! And they just loved Turtle Island they probably won't ever be fully gone

But do we accept the Dandelions for their multitude of gifts even if they do not belong here? Or are they simply too harmful to other to ever be allowed into the family?

I am sure there is a scientific definition but I'm talking socially yk? Idk I'm rambling

[thelandboundseawitch]

🎃Samhain & Halloween🎃

Samhain is a sabbat which celebrates the final harvest and the beginning of the coldest half of the year. For many practitioners, Samhain marks the beginning of a new spiritual year. There are many mainstream holidays that are similar to Samhain, though Dia de los Muertos(Day of the Dead) and Halloween are the most well known. Samhain is celebrated from sunset on October 31st to sunset on November 1st.

Activities

Carve pumpkins

Bake pies, soul cakes, or something with pumpkins

Create an ancestor altar

Have a bonfire

Visit the cemetery

Make apple cider

Visit a corn-maze

Have a hayride

Make smores

Tell scary stories

Watch horror movies

Roast pumpkin seeds

Altar Decorations

Pumpkins and other squash/gourds

Cauldrons

Candles

Skulls

Autumn Leaves/Garland

Corn

Besom

Ancestor Items

Photographs

Acorns

Black Lace

Animals

Bats

Owls

Spiders

Dogs

Foxes

Ravens & Crows

Black Cats

Colors

Orange

Black

Red

Purple

Silver

Crystals

Obsidian

Carnelian

Onyx

Smoky Quartz

Jet

Bloodstone

Malachite

Amethyst

Black Tourmaline

Ruby

Amber

Jasper

Deities

Demeter

Hekate

Morrigan

Anubis

Hel

Osiris

Persephone

The Crone

Flowers

Yarrow

Dittany

Chrysanthemum

Sunflower

Belladonna(☠️)

Marigold

Rose

Rue

Food

Pumpkins

Squash

Apples

Pies

Soups & Stews

Corn

Ale

Grains

Cider

Mulled Wine

Beets

Turnips

Potatoes

Cranberries

Pears

Incense and Oils

Patchouli

Sandalwood

Sage

Rosemary

Sweetgrass

Plants & Herbs

Mugwort(☠️)

Cinnamon

Clove

Nutmeg

Sage

Allspice

Rosemary

Wormwood

Pine

Spells and Rituals

Samhain is an excellent time to contact your ancestors and other spirits because the veil separating the land of the living and the land of the dead is thinnest during this time of the year. Ancestors often visit their relatives in the form of a spider during Samhain. Divination, protection, and banishing spells are also common to practice and cast on Samhain.

Final Notes

Keep black pets inside. Cruel people hurt them on this night

Be extra careful with spirit work. Take extra precautions.

[ruknowhere]

"There was a time when I teetered precariously with an awkward foot in each of two worlds - the scientific and the indigenous. But then I learned to fly. Or at least try. It was the bees that showed me how to move between different flowers - to drink the nectar and gather pollen from both. It is this dance of cross-pollination that can produce a new species of knowledge, a new way of being in the world. After all, there aren't two worlds, there is just this one good green earth"

Robin Wall Kimmerer from her elegant and enlightened book Braiding Sweetgrass

Native maidenhair fern and introduced peony meeting in the middle

[iromy0027]

really happy how the photoshoot and piece turned out here. very happy about also getting the stencil to make just 1 piece of art using the stencil and accidentally seeing how doing a few abstract pieces turned out. I may offer stencil art in the future except it's hard to pull focus completely from the roses because of the love roses represent.

love is what roses stand for

[sangaverage]

Elemental Dragons- Grael

Divider credit: Here

Ambience: Here

Art Credit: Nambroth/ Featherdust

Key: ... Implies a decent start but an incomplete list, feel free to jot down your discovereries!

Name: Grael

Race: Earth Dragon

Other elements: Death

Rules over: Nature, Abundance, Harvest, Plant growth, Staying grounded, Necromancy, Death work, Shadow work, Ancestor work, Agriculture, job seeking, finances, money making

Season: autumn

Sabats: Lammas, Mabon, Samhain

Zodiac: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

Arcana: Wheel of fortune, the magician, the emperor

Suit: Disks/ Pents

Incense: Dragons blood, Amber, Frankincense, Myrrh, Oudh, Opium, Honeysuckle, Copal, Sage, Sweetgrass, Pine, Cedar...

Colours: Green, Brown, Orange, Yellow, Black

Herbs etc: clove, Honeysuckle, Marigolds, Muellin, Orange peel, Lemon peel, pine needles, tree barks, honey, juniper berry, yew berries (Do not eat!), willow, nettles, Dandelion (flowers or seeds), burdock root, pinecones, conkers, nuts, bay leaf, clovers, apples, bread, oats, pumpkin, animal bones...

Crystals etc: Pyrite, Malachite, lapis lazuli, Tektite, Moldavite, green sardonyx, bloodstone, serpentine, amber, tigers eye, desert rose, Apache tear, unakyte, moss agate, Hematite, rainbow Hematite...

[blossoming-dawn]

Just tidied up my alter again!

Persephone- as you can see her Cup is overflowing as always! With fake flowers and random stuff I have found like the coaster with Persephone themed beer i found at a bar over 6 years ago the night I did my devotion ritual and a bag of unknown seeds!

Aphrodite- while it doesn't appear overflowing, I am more likely to actually use this cup for Tea with her. A base of jewlery with personal and emerals sits at the base and some jewlery and hair asseccories float in and out of the cup as the need for it arises.

My motor and pistol is used nearly daily for herbs and medicine of some kind! And I have my scared herbs of Ceder, Sweetgrass and Sage gifted to me by my in laws as they teach me their ways of the land on Turtle Island.

There also used to be a tomato plant growing along this window but has since moved outside for the season

[musingmelsuinesmelancholy]

What's something you miss doing, that you'd love to have the opportunity to do again?

THIS IS SO SUPER SPECIFIC BUT ID LOVE TO HAVE A SPRING GARDEN FULL OF NATIVE PLANTS AGAIN

I had one at my fathers, I miss it very much and hope to have another one when my partner and I can buy land. I wish I had more pictures of it. I had iris, swamp marigold, elderflower (sadly my father has since killed her) ferns ( I forget which kind?) cattails, a honey locust, willow and a few water plants ( who’s names I don’t remember). The pool was belly deep and emptied out into a stand of cattails. I can’t put into words how deeply I loved it and how very much it meant to be to be able to tend such a space. Watching the water carve out a path, watching what animals came to live there, what plants decided to grow there was just magical.

Oh! And my uncle was going to help me grow sweetgrass and ostrich ferns around that garden, we never got the chance to.

Less specifically gardening in general, I used to live in a farm house and had a lot of land to play with. I had herb gardens, flower gardens, vegetable gardens and tons of wild spaces to tend to. I used to spend my free time removing invasive plants and trash from the wild areas. Before we moved I had plans to rewild a large portion of the property. I do have a raised bed and we do a porch container garden every year but it’s not the same.

Thank you for the ask!