Love Lies Bleeding...

Hello everyone...
As I'm a little incapacitated at the moment...after hurting my back...again!
I thought that I'd post a few of my old pics...so that you don't think that I've forgotten you...
This is Amaranth...The broken hearted elf...Ah!
I'll post some more when I can sit up straight...till then...crook-back signing off...

The Not So Merry Widow...Part One.

Something has been troubling me recently...
After hearing that people are reading my blogs to actually learn things...I began to wonder what I was really teaching you all...
What do I really give you?

It made me think...I stood back and tried to look at myself as you might be seeing me...
It was not such a pretty sight...
My words are so self-opinionated...I seem to mock...a lot...

You see...when I first started writing my blogs I had no idea that anyone would ever read them...
I started them with my sculpted figures doing all of the talking...not me...and they are much nicer people than I am...
They aren't so vocal!

I think that I may have given you the impression that I am a big "Head Witch" of some huge coven somewhere in the Village...for those of you not familiar with my work...let me say right now...I am only "The Head Witch" of a group of miniature figures that I created to live in a "village" which was a complete work of my imagination...
I am their Head Witch because I made them...I gave myself this pompous title because obviously I have delusions of grandeur...

So to try to set the record straight...I am going to start posting about honest, little bits of my life...so that you can all form your own opinions about me...it may not be so pretty...it may not be how you imagined me...but it needs to be said...
So, like any other story...let's start at the very beginning...

Hello everyone, my name is Celia...this is actually my real name...not a blog-name.

I am called Celia because my mother was listening to, "The Merry Widow", when she was pregnant with me..(this will make sense-trust me).
There is a song in, "The Merry Widow"...about, "Vilia...The Witch Of The Woods"...which has nothing at all to do with the plot...now my mother sometimes has hearing problems and she thought that they were singing about Celia...(see I told you it would make sense)...hence my name.
Actually...I had a hard enough time being called Celia...imagine how it would have been with Vilia-The Witch Of The Woods!
(I would have preferred that name now though...I think I would have grown into it nicely!)

I have two younger sisters...my middle sister Peggy is a year younger than me...my youngest sister Samantha is six years younger.

We grew up in a very small "village" in a tiny two bedroom terraced house which was near a river and open fields...these have all been built on now...It was wild and magickal when I was a child.
I think we were happy but looking back on it I'm not sure...

My sister Peg and I would play outside a great deal...making mud pies...you know the stuff kids like...I do remember quite vividly, teaching everyone how to make poppets out of mud from the puddles...I think I was about five years old...I can't remember what we did with them though...
I also remember Peg telling a girl, that she didn't like, to eat some berries, which my sister knew were poisonous, the girl was much older than us but she ate them just the same...she had to go to hospital...my sister thinks that it was her own fault as she was old enough to know better!

We played in an old air-raid shelter made of bricks...it was known as, "The Witches Den", by all of the local children...some of the braver boys would make fires in there...it was pitch black inside...no windows...most kids avoided it...it was creepy and cool, like something from "Tom Sawyer".
When we played hide-and-seek...it was the place that I always hid...no-one would ever dare to look in there...I was always safe in the dark.
I loved it.
No one ever found me.

Our father was/is an alcoholic...he wasn't really a violent person...he was happy as long as he had a drink...but my mother was frightened of him...
I can remember that he would bang Peg's and my heads together if we made a noise...
And that he gave me the odd nose bleed...
I must add though I did once try to stab him with a pair of small scissors...I was about four or five years old.

When I was about eleven years old...I fell through a glass door.
After spending a day at the hospital being sewn back together I was allowed back home.
When my father saw the broken door...he was furious...he never asked me if I was alright.

My mother was/is a beautiful woman...she has always been very vain...she sees beauty as being a great asset in your life...it has never managed to give her anything but poverty.
My mum lives with us here in the mountains...we are all crammed into three bedrooms...four adults and two children.

The Grandparents on my father's side were...well...see what you think...

The Grandmother had a beard...a real full one...we would buy her razors for presents...
She owned a transport cafe...(No she wasn't a circus lady!)...and I was sent on Saturdays to ask for bread...she would get out these huge loaves and count the slices then charge me accordingly...to say she was tight would be a gross understatement.
She would make fry-ups for the lorry drivers that stopped in the cafe...she would have a cigarette hanging out of her mouth while she did this...the ash went everywhere.
She also had no teeth...she had false one's...but I never saw her wear them, ever...her mouth was puckered inwards...she hummed while she worked.
She was part of The Raj...she was born in Burma.
She didn't like me.

Her husband worked on the railway but when he came home he would bake cakes for the cafe...he was quite a good cook...
He was very thin and bald with thick glasses.

My sister Peg and I were quite cute little girls...when we were left in the cafe he would find a way to get us in the back rooms...he would play games with us...chase us around the sofa...trying to catch us...we thought he was fun.
He was not mean...he would always give us a bottle of pop and a cake from the cafe...we quite liked him.

When we wanted to go outside to play in the yard, he would grab me by the back door and hold my hand in a tight grip and rub it up and down his trouser flies...for what seemed like hours.
I was very little and had no idea what he was trying to do, so I would say to him, in my very small voice..."What's wrong Grandad, can't you undo your zip?"...I can remember his face as he did this...I remember the look in his eyes...I was trapped in the corner, with him using my hand to ....well you get the picture.
At the time I did not know that male and female bodies were different so I didn't know what was behind the zip.

Sad thing is that the adults knew that he was like this...but did nothing about it.

He did the same thing to our cousins...one...a boy about two years younger than me, grew up with severe mental health problems...all because of this man.

He had a heart attack one day...I saw him at the hospital...I was about fifteen then...I felt a small amount of pity for him...but I was glad he died not long afterwards.
His death gave my father a nervous break-down.

I left home when I was sixteen...I was pleased to be away from my father and his family...they all lived a few minutes from each other...they were stifling.
He bolted the door when I left...I have spoken to him a couple of times since...I don't know where he is now...he may be dead...he has never seen my children.
My sister Peg, left the same night...she wanted to be with me...she was fifteen...he said to her as she left home..."You want to go too, do you-good!"...then he locked the door on her.
She caught me up as I walked in the dark on the main road...we left home together that night.
My mother left him shortly after that.

When I was eighteen years old...my mother sat me down and told me that he wasn't my real father...that they weren't really my family.
I don't know if I was relieved or not.
I found out that my sisters were really his children but I wasn't.

My mother had been married before, but my real father was no good and played around...he slept with my mother's friends and even her cousins...he was a charmer and apparently a tall, handsome man...this is why they let him get away with such behaviour...he would leave and come back and leave again...one day he left for good.

I also discovered that I was not the oldest child...that my mother had given birth to twins before me...a girl and boy...the girl lived for a few minutes...the boy died in bed, with my mother, (my father had left her again), when he was about seven months old...He was buried in a mass grave, with strangers, as my mother had no money to bury him...(just like her mother before her).
The strange thing is...that I had always longed for an older brother...I would make up stories about me and him together...playing and loving each other...I felt like he was always missing from my life.
When my eldest son was a very small child...he was sitting in the bath...and told me that he had come from my mother's tummy...I told him that "No...sweetheart...you came from MY tummy...not my mummy's tummy"...he said quite calmly..."I know that...but I was in your mummy's tummy before you were born...I was there first!".
He did not know about my brother.
My son has always had psychic abilities...he doesn't use them now though...he isn't interested in them.

My father left before I was born...I have never met him...I have no idea what he looks like.
I have never known my real Grandparents on my father's side...my mother tells me that they were nice.

My Grandparents on my mother's side were another story altogether.

I have written about my Grandmother before...my Grandfather though was a cruel, hard man...he would wait for you to cross the room and trip you up, then laugh...he was tiny, with dark skin...a very typical gypsy...he was vain...and ignorant...he never learned to read...he was a very attractive man...the bad ones usually are.
He was also a poacher...he would snare animals and hang them on the back door...I can remember moving rabbits aside to unlock the door...they were soft.
Sometimes he would take a dead animal and rub it's body into my face while I screamed and cried...I remember the blood on my face.
He laughed while he did it.

I understood then that an animal had given it's life because of this man...that it was no longer alive...I was a very little girl...right there, I decided never to eat an animal again...I never have.

He too was an alcoholic...but he was a violent drunk.
He was the man that my Grandmother fell in love with...which you read from my other post.

Well...this post has become a bit of a dirge...which was not really my intention...so I think I will end this chapter of my story for a while...there's plenty left for another day.

As I said at the start of this post...someone told me recently that they read my words so that they could learn things from me...I'm not sure that I could teach you anything at all.

I have written this because I just wanted you all to see...that there is nothing at all special about me...I am not a person to look up to...who can teach you all things...I am just an ordinary woman...living up a mountain in Wales... who just happens to be a witch...I have no great words of wisdom to pass on to you...I am really just like all of you...
I have had great times in my life and I have had my "Dark Nights"...
I am proud that I have worked my way around the Labyrinth and come out of it relatively unscathed...I have made many wrong turns along the way...just to get here...maybe that's where I can help people...so that you don't have to make the same mistakes as me.

I will try to help you as you journey around your own Labyrinths...I have plenty of string should any of you lose your way...all you have to do is ask...

In case anyone is wondering...I am the one in the green outfit...the other one is Peg.


(If you are following my rambles and I have not been to visit you, it is because I cannot link to your blogs...if your profile is hidden I won't be able to link to you from my followers list...If you would like me to come pay you a visit then I need a link to you...if you leave me a comment then I will link to you from that.
I would hate people to think that I am ignoring them...just because I can't reach them.)

I Think God Is Following Me!

Hello everyone...how are you all doing...did you have a Stunning Samhain?
I haven't written a "proper" post for a while...so...here we go...again...

Recently I have gained a new follower...I suppose that it was inevitable that "God" would find me...after all I am quite a vocal person!
Now, I do remember stating that anyone can read my blog...that everyone is welcome...and this is and always will be true.

I do have a concern with this follower though...(don't worry everyone it isn't you!)...and the reason for that concern is...

They Have No Profile!
None at all!
Why?
They have hundreds of followers...so why not be proud and show themselves?
What would be the reason to be invisible?
Unless...No...It couldn't be...unless...They're God Himself...now that makes a lot of sense...that's why there isn't a profile...he's keeping a low one...doesn't want anyone to suspect it might be Him.
Of course, the clues are all there if you look closely...

This blog has lots of biblical themes, and is actually trying to be even handed about evolution...it wasn't too boring a read either...although..."been there, done that"...did spring to mind a few times.

My real concerns are not for the content of the blog...but for the recruiting methods.
It seems that all of the comments (well most) are saying "thanks for following me" and not much else...no real dialogue...no conversation...just the occasional reply...(from God?)

It's as though this blog is just set up as an, "I'm going to make you all feel guilty", type read.

Okay, so we can put what we like on our blogs (within reason of course!)...but surely, if we want a lecture on the "Good Book"...(which isn't THAT good actually...I have read much better)...then there are plenty of places that would accommodate us...we don't need to be given a big shove!

As those of you who read my utterings regularly will know...I am not a Christian...never have been, NEVER will be...so why on earth would I be given a shove into following that blog?

GUILT

I think I'm being guilted by God!

Sorry...but there is no way, in any of my incarnations, that I would ever feel guilty about who and what I am...ever!
And you should already know this God...if it really is you!

I follow blogs because I want to...because they amuse me, or interest me, sometimes I follow them to be perverse...I am not about to follow a blog because I am guilted by God into doing so.

How many of you would follow a blog for that reason? Really?

I know that I can be a very bossy witch...I know that I am outspoken about lots of things...I sometimes wonder why anyone would want to read my blogs at all...(especially a God) but strangely, some of you do...and I now consider you to be my friends...I think some of you may be able to see under the surface of my writing and glimpse the real me...or at least a portion of me...I never surrender myself completely...(save something for later!)

I suppose that I am making myself a big fat target for God...after all...he can see everything!
But really, if he has nothing better to do than try to guilt a "Witch up a Mountain"...then it is no wonder that the world is being destroyed by his "followers"...

And...there is a lovely picture on this blog...straight from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel...which shows the creation of man...how strange and hypocritical that A GAY MAN was acceptable to paint that beautiful work of art in God's own house...yet being a homosexual in God's own world is unacceptable...smacks of dual standards to me...(The Gay Rights argument will have to wait for another post though...let's stick to the subject!)

So, why is He following little old me...does anyone else have any ideas...is He following you...maybe you are following Him?

Can't say that His blog is very inspiring though...it doesn't give you much to chew on...just makes you want to laugh about the fact that, after all these years...He's still afraid of us.
It didn't make me feel guilty one little bit...didn't work on me...you see...You aren't MY God.

And I'm going to tell My Gods and Goddesses all about your dirty little tricks...so there...!
(Said like a child in the playground...My God's Bigger Than Your God!)

So Mr God...go guilt someone else sweetheart...I'm very busy...and I really didn't want to write ANOTHER post about the eternal battle between Christians and Pagans...it can get really stale over the centuries...it's about time you acknowledged the fact that we are here to stay and have just as much right to be here as you!

Get over it!
*******************************************************

As I live in the U.K. and it is the time of year when we all have lots of bonfires...(Bonfire Night) I am quite aware that you (Blog-Person) would like to see me standing on top of one...roasting away nicely...
Well...sorry to disappoint you...I'm no martyr...and I will never give in to your "subtle" persuasions to climb to the top of the flames....and anyway...it rains an awful lot here in Wales...so someone must be looking out for me!

For my Christian/Pagan followers...this has nothing at all to do with you...I know that you have your own struggles going on in your lives and don't need any additional weight from God...so to make everything clear about who is so kindly following me, here is the blog

You can, of course, become one of their followers (whoever they are)...or just have a quiet read...might teach you all something you didn't already know ...(said in a dramatically sarcastic tone of voice!)...or you could just get out your own books and read them instead...either way...enjoy your Gods...see you later...when the flames die down......

The Green Man

I have been fascinated by The Green Man since childhood...
I like to think his presence is felt when we are close to nature...working in our gardens or walking in the countryside or through the wooded places.

He represents wild nature...he hides within his leafy home...the leaves growing from his body and out through his mouth.
He brings nature to life...in effect he is the spirit of nature.
He is an image which belongs to no religion and yet all of them at the same time.
He speaks of birth...of growth...of decay...and of rebirth.
I see him as Mother Nature's consort...her partner...her love.

I have created many types of Green Men over the years...I have made graphs for cross stitch and needlepoint which show different aspects of him...I have drawn him and sketched him...I feel like I know him personally...he is like a friend to me.

In the U.K. many inns and public houses are named after The Green Man...in rural areas and in the cities.
His image can be seen in many old churches and cathedrals...looking down on the congregation...or peeping out from behind screens...he is even carved into the pews.

As a spirit of renewal...his face is seen in many places...usually benevolent...sometimes a little mischievous...always uplifting.

The Green Man which I have painted here is shown as an image of The Oak King...who presides over half of the year...the other six months belonging to The Holly King.

He is surrounded by oak leaves and is bringing forth new spring leaves...but is also turning into autumn with his older leaves changing colour and his acorns ripening.

I hope that I have done justice to my old friend...

We Wish You A Merry Samhain!

It is your obligation to kill your fiance for her sin of witchcraft!

Hello again everyone...I'm back!
Did you miss me?
No?
Shame on you!
Well just for spite I'll share something tasty with you...for those of you offended by my researching lifestyle...look away now!
For those of you brave enough to take the journey with me...here we go...
It kind of carries on my, "Christian Witch?" post...(I know what you're thinking...dog with a tasty bone...she won't let it go...well I just couldn't let this one go...be aware of what they're saying out there...this could be YOU they're talking about!)

I was googling the other day and found a lovely blog!
Full of such kind, caring, loving people, that I couldn't resist sharing it with you all.
I know from past experience that I'm not a very popular little witch, when I spout about Christians/Witches...so I thought I would let them speak for themselves...

Apparently a young Christian man was going to marry a witch (Shock, Horror!) and wanted to know if it was okay to do this...so he asked his chums what he should do...

These were the responses that he got...hold on to your hats everyone...it's not a pretty ride!
This is the blog address BLOG

Don't say I didn't warn you...
Also you may need a dictionary as the spelling leaves much to be desired...either that or "Satan" is suddenly wearing a lot of "Satin" these days!

If you get to the end...(which I actually did-sad I know!)...then well done...did you laugh out loud or fume?

Well...Go on then...Off with you...have a look...I know it's an old post, so you may have already been there...but I'd love to hear your thoughts on it...

Not that I'm trying to get your heckles up or anything!
As if I would!

What Has This Witch Been Up To?

Okay everyone...it's time to come clean!

The reason I haven't been snuffling round your blogs leaving my usual tu'penny ha'penny comments is...cos' I've been trying to get my paintings finished.

Since I joined The Land Of Blog...I have been seriously neglecting my art...my sculpting...my painting...all of it!
So...I forbade myself to even take a peek at what delicious delights you're all up to...and tried to knuckle down to some serious work...aided of course by loads of dark chocolate!

Now before you all start screaming "Oh no...another artist trying to palm off her Etsy stuff"...let me state right now...You guys are all my friends and I see you as just that...I do NOT see you as my "customers"...okay...so that's all settled then...

My own website has always been shown here on my blogs with a link but...as my "Art" blog is not linked to my profile anywhere...I thought that I should come clean about it here...just in case anyone thinks I'm trying to cover my tracks or deceive anyone...(like the person in my previous post!) which was and is not the case at all...my art blog is just a place where I keep a record of my new paintings...the good and the bad...and to anyone else it would be a monumentally boring blog... indeed!
Trust me...when artists start talking about their "New Works"...run to the hills!

But...if you are at all interested in how or why I paint...then you're welcome to take a peek...I won't tie you down and ask for a critique...so don't worry...you're safe.

And I'm not expecting you to open your piggy banks and cough up for my work either!
I just wanted to be honest with you all...
Here's the address http://oberonswood.blogspot.com/ for anyone with a case of insomnia...should do the trick nicely sir!

Now...back to the grindstone...or should that be muller...