Only a few weeks to go now and all sorts of exciting things are afoot…!
Responding to a need for more retail outlets to be available to folks after the festivities, many of the local establishments in Boscastle will be open later in the day. Also we have secured the presence of Woody’s Pizza Van who are well known locally for delicious wood-fired pizzas. They will be stationed outside the Spar shop from 5pm – 8 pm. They come highly recommended!
I now have details of how those who can’t attend the Gathering for whatever reason can watch online or as good as. You have the choice of two options on the day:
Option One – you can follow the proceedings via the Museum of Witchcraft & Magic’s YouTube channel here:
Both options require membership – there is no charge. Of course if you’re an avid fan you could watch both! 😉
It’s startling to consider how our original spontaneous creation has now reached a global audience in just a few years. Well done everyone! 😀
Lastly for now, on this night of the powerful Harvest Moon I send the call out to all of goodwill and merriment. Come join with us at the All Hallows Gathering on Saturday 28th October 2017 to honour our ancestors and celebrate Summer’s end in the ancient village of Boscastle. Help us a-conjure in the eldritch time of Halloween!
To say that organising the Dark Gathering this year has been challenging would be an understatement! All sorts of spanners have been thrown into the works, but amazingly where a person or a side have departed, there have been folks who are only too eager to step into the breech and fill the void. I thank you all! 🙂
As you can see from the poster, we have a very full line-up of activities and performers this year. Whilst on the subject of the poster I want to personally thank Chris White who designed it at very short notice. Even more amazing is the fact, and I hope he doesn’t mind me mentioning this, that Chris is disabled and is more or less housebound being a full time carer for his beloved wife. Chris sadly will never be able to attend the Dark Gathering, but has given his full support to the event from it’s inception. Chris is a unassuming, generous and talented guy who has a passion and curiosity for the absurdities of life – who definitely has a soft spot for Osses, Maris and other assorted beasties. Take a bow Chris White! 😀
This seems a good moment to state that provision will be made this year for a live recording of the Dark Gathering. This means that the housebound and people abroad will be able to share in the atmosphere of the event as it happens. So performers and audience be aware – you will be on camera most of the time!
The day will start early this year with a Mari Lwyd Workshop led by David Pitt. In the workshop you can make and decorate your own mini Mari Lwyd shaker to join in with the festivities – and meet some Maris too. It is open to all ages and I really hope I get the time and opportunity to attend myself. If not, can someone make one for me please? 😉 There is no charge for this workshop, although donations are welcome to cover costs. Here’s more information on David: The Crowman – Storyteller
Joining Beltane and Wreckers this year was going to be a new Dark Morris side, Emanon. This happened through a chance remark at Teignmouth Folk festival and as a result, a new Dark Morris side was born. Emanon were to be giving their debut performance at this year’s Gathering – I’m sure everyone would have welcomed their input with interest as they came with a great CV. So new are they that they didn’t even have a photo I could have shown you yet!
I know that taking on a new untried and untested side who I haven’t even seen in action was a bit of a risk – but hey, it keeps things vital and interesting. So much of the organising and arranging of the Dark Gathering is a risk, a gamble, but in a sense you have to accept that it’s all in the lap of the gods how well (or not) plans turn out. So many times now there have been instances of realising that there are gods who care what happens at the Gathering and the community of Boscastle because of amazing interventions, just at the right time. It is said that Fortune favours the brave – however, it doesn’t pay to be too blasé either! All we can do is prepare for the worst and anticipate the best. 🙂
Risks
To laugh is to risk appearing the fool To weep is to risk being called sentimental To reach out to another is to risk involvement To expose feelings is to risk showing your true self To place your ideas and your dreams before the crowd is to risk being called naïve To love is to risk not being loved in return To live is to risk dying To hope is to risk despair To try is to risk failure But risks must be taken, because the greatest risk in life is to risk nothing The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, is nothing, and becomes nothing He may avoid suffering and sorrow, but he simply cannot learn, feel, change, grow or love Chained by his certitude, he is a slave; he has forfeited his freedom Only the person who risks is truly free
Janet Rand
Ironically, and just to prove my point about the unpredictability of this year I have been informed by Emanon that sadly, due to the ill health of one of their key members, they are unable to perform this year. 😦
We all hope that the person concerned recovers swiftly and we look forward to Emanon making their appearance another year.
Moving on, I am delighted to announce that we will have a local choir singing in the afternoon at the break (around 4 pm) – the Boscastle Buoys. They collect for charity and this time it will be for Cornwall Hospice Care so make sure you have your change ready when the bucket comes round!
You may have heard that Wytchwood Morris have taken a sabbatical, but some individual members of Wytchwood will be attending the event in a supporting role – and given the collective talents of that side, it will be well worth looking forward to any input from them! 🙂
Finally regarding performers, we have the enigmatic Mr Fox. When asked for a bio I was sent this – make of it what you will:
When eyes do see the naked flame
and ears do hear the brazen beat of drum
When two worlds meet
then twilight’s winding walk is begun…
Down from on high they come
skirting the undergrowth
and into the square…
The dancing ground is old as time
But before that time was bound
The black morass of earth was lit
And the shining star was found…
With smoking clouds and tendrils flare
Amid eternities brilliant glare
the hooded shadows flit…
They crouch and prowl, they run and fight,
They tend the braziers’ fiery heart
With flames that flash as bursts of light
And this is but the start…
As giant, feathered footsteps bound,
Seek to rule the dancing ground
Beneath a moonlit sky…
A blaze of flame, a fire flower
Wrought with magic for the task
Is summoned with unearthly power
By a silent, Silver mask….
Darkness and tears are cast aside
Shadows banished far to hide
Beyond the dancing glow…
A timeless story is evoked
Written in flame upon the night,
Blazing colour, curling smoke…
A battle danced twixt dark and bright.
Hear the drums and seek the flame
The nameless ones who share a name…
The inimitable Mister Fox.
This year the Mari Lwyds will be visiting establishments and households throughout the village during late afternoon, culminating with some steeds joining the procession; and others making their own slow but steady progress to attend the ancient pwnco ceremony at the threshold of the Museum of Witchcraft & Magic. There are a couple of new additions to our equine friends who may make an appearance – so keep alert as they may appear where you least expect them!
Given the growing popularity of the Dark Gathering it has become necessary to make some logistical decisions regarding crowd control and the like. There will be volunteers who will act as marshals, moving folk around when necessary to avoid bottle-necks and to ensure that everyone has a fair chance of viewing the day’s activities. Please try and co-operate with these necessary measures which have to be brought in for health and safety purposes. Also parking became an issue last year so you need to know that there is also a car park at the top of Boscastle near the Napoleon Inn – see map for details.
That’s all for now folks and I look forward, as I hope you do, to this year’s All Hallow’s Gathering. See you all there – here’s last year’s footage just to remind you of how brilliant it all is!
The following article appeared in the New Statesman 17 – 23 February 2017. It was handed to me the other day by friends who thought I might draw insight from what it said. It had previous to that been displayed in their shop as a timely reminder about human nature and all it’s idiosyncrasies. I was impressed by the clear and pragmatic presentation of what can be a complex situation and was for me very enlightening; and so I thought I’d share it with you. Words within […] are my comments 🙂
I am special and I am worthless: inside the mind of a narcissist
“Since the rise of Donald Trump, the term ‘narcissistic’ has been cropping up with great regularity in certain sections of the media, including the pages of this journal. I wouldn’t want to comment about an individual I’ve never met, but I thought it would be interesting to look at the troubling psychological health problem of narcissistic personality disorder (NPD).
People with NPD (which is estimated to affect about 1% of the population) have a characteristic set of personality traits. First, they have a deeply held sense of specialness and entitlement. Male NPD sufferers frequently present as highly egotistical, with an unshakeable sense of their superiority and importance; female sufferers commonly present as eternal victims on whom the world repeatedly inflicts terrible injustices. [One would imagine a transgender person to have a blend of both] In both cases, the affected person believes he or she is deserving of privileged treatment, and expects it as a right from those around them.
Second, NPD sufferers have little or no capacity for empathy, and usually relate to other people as objects (as opposed to thinking, feeling beings) whose sole function is to meet the narcissist’s need for special treatment and admiration – known as ‘supply’. In order to recruit supply, NPD sufferers become highly skilled at manipulating people’s perceptions of them, acting out what is called a ‘false self’ – the glittering high achiever, the indefatigable do-gooder, the pitiable victim. [To use magical parlance – glamour]
The third characteristic is termed ‘splitting’, where the world is experienced in terms of two rigid categories – either Good or Bad – with no areas of grey. As long as others are meeting the narcissist’s need for supply, they are Good, and they find themselves idealised and showered with reciprocal positive affirmation – a process called ‘love-bombing’. However, if someone criticises or questions the narcissist’s false self, that person becomes Bad, and is subjected to implacable hostility.
It is not known for certain what triggers the disorder. There is likely to be a genetic component, but in many cases early life experiences are the primary cause. Narcissism is a natural phase of child development (as the parents of many teenagers will testify) and its persistence as adult NPD frequently reflects chronic trauma during childhood. Paradoxically for a condition that manifests as apparent egotism, all NPD sufferers have virtually non-existent self-esteem. This may arise from ongoing emotional neglect on the part of parents or caregivers, or from sustained psychological or sexual abuse.
The common factor is a failure in the development of a healthy sense of self-worth. It is likely that narcissism becomes entrenched as a defence against the deep-seated shame associated with these experiences of being unworthy and valueless.
When surrounded by supply, the NPD sufferer can anaesthetise this horrible sense of shame with the waves of positive regard washing over them. Equally, when another person destabilises that supply (by criticising or questioning the narcissist’s false self) this highly threatening, and the NPD sufferer will go to practically any lengths to prevent a destabiliser adversely influencing other people’s perceptions of the narcissist.
One of the many tragic aspects of NPD is the invariable lack of insight. A narcissist’s experience of the world is essentially: “I am special; some people love me for this, and are Good; some people hate me for it, and are Bad.” If people with NPD do present to health services, it is usually because of the negative impacts Bad people are having on their life, rather than because they are able to recognise that they have a psychological health problem.
Far more commonly, health professionals end up helping those who have had the misfortune to enter into a supply relationship with an NPD sufferer. Narcissism is one of the most frequent factors in intimate partner and child abuse, as well as workplace bullying. The narcissist depends on the positive affirmation of others to neutralise their own sense of unworthiness. They use others to shore themselves up, and lash out at those who threaten this precarious balance. And they leave a trail of damaged people in their wake.”
Dr Phil Whitaker
For the last 5 years (almost to the day) I have been targeted by a narcissist and it has been no surprise to find out that, according to the above article, I would be referred to by them as Bad. However, this is part of my craft and nature, to point out glamour and falseness when it presents itself.
Articles like this are very handy to get things into their proper perspective and to have clarification of the roles folk play within these melodramas.
Today has been an intensely charged day. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought that there was a storm brewing. It wasn’t until the local headlines via Facebook arrived that our community down here realised that one of their number, had quite suddenly departed. Lafrowda is a community festival held in St Just which has grown from strength to strength over the years. I didn’t personally know Paul, the landlord of a well known hostelry in St Just, but judging by the outpouring of shock and sadness that flooded my FB timeline, he was a well loved and respected member of his community.
For some reason it kept coming into my mind today how awful this morning must have been for Paul’s widow. No husband to wake up with who was there just hours before…
When we reached St Just today to perform in the Golowan Band, it was overcast and misty – typical West Cornwall weather most would think, but not typical of Lafrowda apparently, as I found when I talked with others I met there. Then I noticed that the St Pirans flag was flying at half-mast from the church. What a touching tribute to the man – and also his pub was ‘open for business’ as he would have wanted. How poignant…
The day also seemed to be cursed by tiresome, melodramatic attention-seekers but, when put into context, was simply just irksome and annoying – not really of any importance or significance.
When finally we returned to our village I went to the village shop for supplies and found out that the proprietor was cousin to the previously mentioned widow. She related to me details of a shocking tragedy that this woman had to endure earlier in her life. How desperate she must be feeling right now, it doesn’t bear thinking about. 😦
I’m glad that the community has declared it’s respect and love for her husband so eloquently. He was obviously someone of character and stature in his town. In time, with this sort of quiet recognition, the family will heal and life will go on. For tonight, even though I didn’t know you, I salute you Paul – you lived a life that mattered.
A Life That Matters
Ready or not, someday it will all come to an end. There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours, days. All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten, will pass to someone else. Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance. It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed. Your grudges, resentments, frustrations and jealousies will finally disappear. So too, your hopes, ambitions, plans and to-do lists will expire. The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away. It won’t matter where you came from, or on what side of the tracks you lived. At the end, whether you were beautiful or brilliant, male or female, even your skin colour won’t matter.
So what will matter? How will the value of your days be measured? What will matter is not what you bought, but what you built; not what you got, but what you gave. What will matter is not your success, but your significance. What will matter is not what you learned, but what you taught. What will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage or sacrifice that enriched, empowered or encouraged others. What will matter is not your competence, but your character. What will matter is not how many people you knew, but how many will feel a lasting loss when you’re gone. What will matter is not your memories, but the memories that live in those who loved you. Living a life that matters doesn’t happen by accident. It’s not a matter of circumstance but of choice. Choose to live a life that matters.
I have been a whistle-blower for most of my life. It’s something I feel compelled to do when I come across injustices and needless to say it has got me into hot water! Whistle-blowing can be awfully lonely because often the very people who you believed would support you, either turn against you or keep their heads down and act embarrassed with the hope that you will go away or cease such behaviour. Whether this happens within a private or a public situation, there is almost always retaliation and/or reprisals from the bully or abuser (whether system, company or person). Often ‘gas lighting’ is aimed at the whistle-blower, not only to attempt to distract or silence the instigator, but also as a salutary lesson to other workers, team members or acquaintances not to do the same or support them in any way. It makes one wonder why on earth people like myself risk such circumstances? Well, I can let you know why I do it.
As a village wisewoman I strive to be honourable and altruistic in my dealings with folks, bearing in mind that I am human and can make mistakes. This however, is not just a role I play within my community – it is a lifestyle. I have a conscience that is not at peace unless I do my best to try to aid others who I feel are being bullied, abused or otherwise treated unfairly. I really do try to be diplomatic in my handling of this but sometimes even then, my plain speaking triggers an anger response from the person I’m confronting about their behaviour. Most of the time I try to deal with this stoically as I recognise that, to an extent I am drawing their fire away from the object of their persecution or bullying and instead become their target.
However, this trait can also create enemies and even what I call ‘frenemies’ (enemies who used to be friends). Occasionally you get a banding together of these types of individuals into a cabal of plotters who get fixated on revenge – and sadly that is what appears to have happened to me – and by association, my partner.
The last time I took someone to task about what I perceived to be unfair and dictatorial behaviour, it ended in both myself and my partner being ejected from the Morris side that we were members of. There was a heated exchange when I realised that this person had contacted people known to be part of the previously mentioned ‘cabal’ behind our backs and was parroting their lies. The meeting ended with me calling him “A silly little man” and that was the end of that…or so I thought.
Never underestimate the vindictiveness of a overblown, and therefore fragile, ego! There then followed a series of attempts to sabotage the event that I organise that he and his team had been part of and had subsequently left. These I dealt with as they happened and did my best to rise above these obstacles and annoyances. My partner and myself anticipated that there would probably be gossip and rumour to deal with, as there often is when people fall out for whatever reason, but then it got really serious. At the weekend it was brought to our attention that extremely offensive and malicious lies had been fabricated in order to blacken our names and characters. So vile have these accusations been that I am considering taking legal advice on this matter.
Why am I airing all this on my blog when normally I would keep a dignified silence? The answer lies in the title of this post. There are times when it is more appropriate not to feed negativity and refrain from trying to justify yourselves or reason with the unreasonable. However, a line must be drawn in the sand when boundaries of decency and integrity are breached and this is one such time.
The Morris community on the whole is a merry bunch of revellers and pranksters of varying abilities who like nothing better than to dance, play music and party. Of course they have their differences and their fallouts but I would hate to see this community riven by this level of attempted victimisation. It has to cease immediately.
The perpetrators of this slander know who they are, and so do I. I choose not to name names at present and hope that this post will be warning enough. If they do the honourable thing and desist for the sake of the Morris community I will say no more about this.
Come along to this event and meet Author and Wise Woman of St Buryan, Cassandra Latham Jones. She will give a short talk about her book and life as a Wise Woman, answering any questions you may have. Cassandra will also sign a book for you on purchase. She and her partner Laetitia look forward to meeting you.
At Beltane this year we completed Penkevyll’s final makeover or maybe it would be more accurate to say, emergence. We celebrated that with a photoshoot taken by the talented John Isaac.
Penkevyll’s journey from there to here has been dynamic, dramatic, poignant and at times a little spooky. Just for clarification I need to say that the title of this post does not refer to her life, and then her afterlife as an Oss, but of how she used to be a Penglaz and then transitioned into Penkevyll. I do see the need for a little background so, time to settle down and hear the story. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, A Tale of Two Osses! 😀
The year was 2008 and I had received a startling phone call that was to have ongoing repercussions for years to come had I but known it. I had been Teazer to Penglaz the Penzance Oss for many years. This was a role that had slowly evolved over the years, building on it’s tradition as it went. That previous winter we celebrated the very first Montol festival and Penglaz was to play a crucial role within the festivities. This turned out to be the one and only time that this particular Penglaz appeared at Montol. In April I received the aforementioned unexpected phone call from the chap responsible for creating and riding Penglaz, to the effect that he would be retiring from Golowan and Montol and that he was taking his Oss with him. Bombshell was an understatement! :O
It was only 6 weeks to Mazey Day, when Penglaz traditionally made her appearance, and I had to make some quick decisions. Once I had permission that I could recreate another Oss modelled on the previous style, I gathered through networking a small, select team of people with the appropriate skills to do just that. Despite having to work my way through a lot of obstructions and petty politics as a result of a rival Penglaz being made hurriedly, our Oss eventually made her debut at Montol 2008.
Sadly although a few traditions can survive despite conflict and rivalry this was not the case in Penzance. Although our Oss team was completely open to sharing and co-operating, the rival team were not and wanted to be ‘the only Penglaz in the town’. After a couple of years of this during which I’m sure everyone got thoroughly fed up with the wrangling, it all came to a head. The outcome was that our Oss was asked to withdraw, along with the rival Oss, and the original Penglaz and Rider returned.
If you’re thinking that I’m missing out a lot of detail here, you would be correct. However, I really don’t think it would be helpful to the community in general to open up old wounds – especially as things have moved on so much since. So, I will content myself with this briefest of outlines about our Oss’s previous life as a Penglaz. (So those who were relishing a melodrama about it all can put away their popcorn and depart back to the sidelines!)
So, there we were with an Oss with no name or a function. Over the years I had researched Osses and associated beasties in the West Country and knew there was, albeit sparse, documented evidence of a Lands End Oss who stalked the outer margins of West Penwith. Since we were based in nearby St Buryan that seemed an ideal role to revive and recreate. I also came across an archaic Cornish name for ‘horse’s head’ which was Penkivell or Penkevyll which we then adopted for her during a naming ceremony performed in March on my birthday 2011. It was at this time that I took the crucial decision to buy Penkevyll from the co-creators for a mutually agreed price which we shook hands on. She has been happily stabled with us, definitely part of the household, and rather wonderfully the community, ever since. 😀
We worked on Penkevyll’s appearance giving her some new improved ears and mane. The kit started off with black, midnight blue and blood red tatters and ribbons. Our Oss had been created primarily as a processional, dancing Oss and thanks to the skills of a brilliant local engineer she is extremely versatile in her movements – however, the downside is that Penkevyll is also extremely heavy and can only be operated by a male of appropriate strength. This is because of her weighty mechanism plus the fact that she was obviously a big horse of German descent with heavy bones. However, we have always had Riders for Penkevyll and at that time we had a very lively and enthusiastic Rider in Laetitia’s son, Rhys. We brought Penkevyll out for her very first appearance in the community at the Penwith Pagan Moot, which we were hosting that Spring Equinox, where she was received with warmth and delight. 🙂
The following few years were full of action and drama as I entered the Morris world for the first time and we introduced Penkevyll the Lands End Oss to Morris festivals up and down the country. We created a dance team called Boekka (Cornish for scarecrow) to accompany Penkevyll, and special Oss and Teazer dances were devised by Laetitia in which we both danced and teased the Oss in a choreographed manner – very unlike the improvised madness that I had been used to on the streets of Penzance with Penglaz! However these dances were quite spooky and atmospheric! It was great to meet so many different Morris sides and performers and it definitely opened up a new world to me. I truly never anticipated learning how to Morris dance in my sixties! 😀
Time moved on, and so did people. There was an amendment to the kit colours as we were finding that all sorts of different shades of red were creeping in, including pink (!). So it was decided to change this in favour of dark purple and it stayed that way until quite recently. One thing that became more and more noticeable as the years passed was that it was quite difficult to get Morris dancing off the ground in Cornwall. Ironic when you think that there is a school of thought that has referred to the bench ends of St Columb Church, Cornwall as the earliest evidence of Morris dancing in the country! Some declare that Morris is too English for the Cornish and there certainly is a focus on Cornish dancing instead being more popular. The outcome was it was getting increasingly more difficult to find members for our team who were willing to travel and perform elsewhere. Add to this the pure logistics of travelling to venues outside of Cornwall and it became inevitable that the dance team would finally subside which it did in 2015.
However, all was not lost – far from it! This meant we could concentrate more on the Oss and Teazers only and this is when it became really interesting…
I had always wanted to meet the famous Welsh Mari Lwyds and finally at long last it happened in 2014 – a year that was to prove quite a breakthrough for Penkevyll the Lands End Oss & Boekka. I write in detail here about that initial meeting of a Cornish Oss with the Mari Lwyd:
Something magical happened when that meeting occurred, because from that first contact, wonderfully creative and exciting events have developed. I have written extensively about this marvellous journey here:
Penkevyll has travelled widely within Britain including Scotland and Wales, but not Ireland as yet. I would personally love to take Penkevyll to Brittany to complete her tour of the Celtic Nations!
Recently, and the reason for this blog post, we changed Penkevyll’s kit for the final time. It was shortly before St Piran’s Day this year and I was admiring the lovely Cornish banners we had around our nearest town, Penzance. It was then I had the idea of since our Oss is a sort of ambassador for Cornwall when she visits other towns and countries, and that Lands End is so iconic, it made sense that Penk (as she is affectionately known) would wear Cornish colours for her kit. So, I leave you with Penkevyll the Lands End Oss, accompanied by her Teazers, resplendent in black, gold and white.
