Where They May Be Found: Brighid

Photo by Nick Ferro

In a Barn, With Queers, With Curry I have dreamt more on Brighid than I quite know how to understand.Once, I was in a wooden hovel.  Herbs hung from rafters, and I was cooking, but I was not me, but Her.  Or, rather, I was there on Her behalf, and I was cooking for people full of lustful desire for each other and others.  An odd dream, one I never fully understood.And then a little more than a year later, I was standing in a barn, cooking.  It was the place in the dream, but it was lar … [Read more...]

Dionysos in a Paving Stone, Brighid in the Broken Glass

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I stood on the corner of the street, waiting for a bus to take me from Seattle and saw a friend.  It's been awhile since I'd seen them*, and I'd never been where I was about to go, so they were a welcome sight.  After a brief embrace and a few words, we'd realized we were going to the same place, taking almost the same route.They'd never been either.  Both of our first times."Were you at Mayday last year?"They nodded.  "Yeah--last year was my political Beltaine, this year's my spi … [Read more...]

Oiche Fhéile Bhríde: The Eve of St. Brighid’s Feast

Tomorrow night is perhaps one of the most celebrated in Ireland.  No, there won’t be any mad parties or green beer; not even wild heathen drumming on the High Places.  Instead, the evening is about family, purification, and continuity of ancient practice.You see, the last night of January is the eve of St. Brighid’s Feast–the eve of Imbolc–and it’s a big deal.  The indigenous Irish marked the beginning of their festivals at sundown, and deemed that dark time especially potent.  [Consider … [Read more...]

The Liberation of the Earth

Familiar to Anarchists and Witches...

“It is immoral to use private property in order to alleviate the horrible evils that result from the institution of private property. It is both immoral and unfair.”--Oscar Wilde, The Soul of Man Under SocialismIn the light of the crescent moon she creeps in, hooded in black.  It’s late, and hardly anyone would be awake.  The darkness is her friend, her ally, and it is best to stalk in silence.  Slipping under the fence, her jeans and sweatshirt covered in dust and fallen leaves, she gaze … [Read more...]

Snakes in the Dark: beginning to remember

Brú na Bóinne : Ireland

My feet are bare as I run through the pasture.  Calluses, built over years of refusal to wear shoes, give them a protective layer all their own.  Long, dark hair billows behind me--a knot of tangle and wave. My mind is full of one thought, one intention: Grandma’s house.I will sit at her feet and help shell peas while she tells me stories.Maybe she will comb my hair and braid it.We will sit quiet together, while the wind rustles the curtains in the breezeway and she twiddles her thu … [Read more...]

Oiche Fhéile Bhríde: The Eve of St. Brighid’s Feast

Saint Brigid's Cross : © CC- 2008 Culnacreann

Tonight is perhaps one of the most celebrated in Ireland.  No, there won't be any mad parties or green beer.  Not even wild heathen drumming on the High Places.  Instead, this evening is about family, purification, and continuity of ancient practices.You see, tonight is the eve of St. Brighid’s Feast--the eve of Imbolc--and it’s a big deal.  The indigenous Irish marked the beginning of their festivals at sundown, and deemed that dark time especially potent.  [Consider how this thinking im … [Read more...]


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