The Sisterhood of Branwen

I should be heart broken and despondent. The women who supported me for more than eighteen months have all left Cardigan Woman's Aid who are under new management. I went to their leaving do this week and wrote this poem for them. As with many of my poems it rhymes but stretches the limits of scanning. It does however say it all. It gives a taste of the magic these women have worked in many lives and I have no doubt that they will all continue their important work in another context. I do however feel intense anger at this government, the cuts it is imposing and patriarchy in all his forms.

THE SISTERHOOD OF BRANWEN

by Bríd Wyldearth 2012

The sisterhood of Branwen are a ferocious bunch
You wouldn’t want to meet them if you like to kick and punch
They hide women from their husbands and help them to claim their dues
And you might be mistaken in blaming them for the end of traditional family values

They get women addicted to their subversive freedom programme
And show them how to tell between a bully and a real man
They sit around and chatter with cakes and cups of tea
And they say that all they’re doing is crafting jewelry

And on the feast of Brigid, goddess of healing and creativity
They make eyes and crosses for protection and dolls for strength and liberty
They weave labyrinths to envision futures of comfort, calm and peace
And they make masks and art and lanterns to empower and beautify and please

And they congratulate and applaud every woman’s achievements
As they rediscover their creativity, courage, strength and confidence
And deep within the earth they meet at each full moon
To plant seeds for new beginnings and to celebrate their creative wombs

And every time they meet they light a candle in remembrance
Of all the women and children who have not survived domestic violence
And although the tentacles of patriarchy still seek power through domination
The sisterhood of Branwen know that true power comes from within and liberation



THANK YOU SISTERHOOD OF BRANWEN FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART FOR GIVING ME MORE SUPPORT, UNDERSTANDING AND AFFIRMATION THAN I HAVE EVER KNOWN

Celtic Women Fest 2012

Thank you Cheryl Beer for these photos from the CW12 Blog:http://celticwomenfest.blogspot.co.uk/2012/08/cw12-monday-early-evening.html

Chez has just suggested we do this at the end of each festival. I am always amazed and happy when what sounds beautiful to me sounds beautiful to others particularly when they are as good singers and musicians as Cheryl Beer :)

I had such a lovely day on Monday, hearing new to me and wondrous singers and poets and reading my poetry to a warm and appreciative audience before gathering the stalwarts together in a circle to co create a garland of sound sculpture flowers. The result was completely different to what i had expected and far more beautiful and flowery :)

Slow Dance on Radio Tricoed

Talking about Celtic Women Festival 2012 happening this weekend. I am reading and sound sculpting there tomorrow:)

Celtic Women Festival 2012

I think I have been a little tardy in posting about my commitment to co-ordinate a sound sculpture at the close of CW12 at 6.45pm this coming Monday. I will also be doing a poem or two between music sets.

Here is the interview Cheryl and I did about it:
http://celticwomenfest.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/cw12-at-radio-tircoed.html

I have had the most life changing weekend of my life so far. I am cautious about my enthusiasm and optimism because I have tried so many things and been so disappointed so many times but I do believe that it is possible that I might have found a healing that will work for me at last. I have spent the weekend learning how to Throat Sing with Dr Vladislav Matrenitsky, http://www.un-hun.com/un-hun_en.html , a Ukrainian medical doctor who learned from a Tuvan Shaman in Siberia. I keep getting told there are no coincidences but I don't know what other word to use. Four years ago while I was visiting Mum in hospital every day, I saw a concert advertised near St Andrews. It was a three hour drive but I knew it was important to give myself a treat. The singer who I went to see, had come to one of my mask workshops many years ago and I had always wanted to see her live - she sang celtic ballads and Indian music from her dual heritage and she was brilliant. However that night she shared the bill with Hun Hur Tu, a band of Tuvan throat singers. I sat on the floor at the front of a barn by the sea and balled my eyes out silently as their music washed through me and I saw the land and spirits where the music came from. I am not sure if anyone saw or was embarrassed or discomforted by my tears - I felt quite private - aware of a full auditorium behind me but feeling completely alone with the music and my grieving heart.

Then last week I saw a flyer about a workshop teaching Tuvan throat singing and I woke up far earlier than usual on Saturday, in time to make it for a 10am start. Anyone who knows mw knows that this is a miracle in itself. Vladislav is a methodical teacher with a warm heart. He was completely confident that we could all do everything he asked of us and showed no surprise at all as each one of us managed each of the three types of singing, producing sounds that I imagine is something like the sounds angels make.

I still cannot quite believe that my voice, which can barely hold a tune, can make the sound of angels singing in the cavities of my head and body and that these sounds can dissolve chronic pain that I have had for years. The owner of the house we worked in kindly gave me huge clumps of Mombrisia, a flower that my mother loved, which needed to be planted the next morning. I was up at the crack of dawn, wide awake, but needing a bath to ease aching and tense muscles, and after some singing was miraculously able to start planting. However, I was too enthusiastic, as is my wont, and got very hot and sore and unable to move long before all the planting was done. I was so upset that I swore and beat myself up and envisioned a load of dead plants lying in my garden. My guest heard me and offered to help after her yoga and I suddenly realised I could sit down and throat sing. Within a few minutes I was able to finish planting in the back of my cottage and after another rest and throat singing, my guest and I planted the rest and got some serious weeding done into the bargain. Later that morning, a local crow called to me and I replied in throat growls with overtones.

Potential

Summer Solstice, 

the standing still of the sun
after expansion
before contraction
uncomfortable uncertainty
emptiness
chaos
potential

anything can happen
in the heat of the longest day
in my dance with our fiery star

nothing could happen
my dreams,
plans,
creativity,
I
would not exist
without the sun

illusions of solitary stardom dissolve

I console myself with my solar soul mate

anything
more than I could ever dream on my own
is possible

Life is getting more and more surreal :) I am now watching this clip of a talk that I was in the front row of the audience for. I was still shell shocked from seeing myself on the big screen so I did not contribute from the floor as it were but I wish there had been more time to hear more from the contributers...