The Fall Equinox

Always felt like the first of the year to me.

The Summer Solstice

photo : Avant-Gardenist

The Winter Solstice and The Oak King

photo : Avant-Gardenist

As the ancient story goes...

The Oak King, the Lord of the Greenwood and golden twin of the waxing year, rules from Midwinter to Midsummer. At Midwinter, he goes to battle with his twin, the Holly King, for the favor of the Goddess. He slays the Holly King, who goes to rest in Caer Arianrhod until they do battle again at Midsummer. The Oak King and Holly King are mortal enemies at Midsummer and Midwinter, but they are two sides of a whole. Neither could exist without the other.

Two themes run throughout the Oak King and Holly King saga. The first, of course, is the two great yearly battles between the two. The second is the sacrificial mating, death, and resurrection of each in his season. At Beltane, the peak of the Oak King's reign, he sacrificially mates with the Great Mother, dies in her embrace, and is resurrected. This is an enactment of the natural fertility theme of the season, and is not uncommon in other mythologies: Osiris, Tammuz, Dionysus, Balder, and Jesus are only a few other gods who die and are resurrected.

More Oak Lore to be found here and here.

Happy Solstice. The sun grows stronger, the days grow longer.

First Day Of Fall

"Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all."


photo : Avant-Gardenist

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Mind the troll!

photo : Jules Lewis


The troll is harmless, as long as we keep feeding it gorgeous images of gardens and art. And so far the Avant-Gardenists on Flickr have sowed a banquet of over 3000 of them. Come feast your eyes on some of the most breathtaking and fascinating images you'll ever hope to see as you wander through the Avant-Garden.

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Doc's VISION

Here is my vision
I am me
I am you
I am everybody
I am connected to all
I give me to you
Like a mother duck
Safely guiding the ducklings
Across the highway on
Mothers’ Day
I like people
People give me joy
People give me energy
People give me purpose
People give me
Me
My penname is Dust
Dust is the
Energy that flows through me
Whenever I create
Poems of quality
My job is another
Joyful expression of me
I am healthy
I have a lot of energy
Gardening feeds my body and soul
Walking brings feelings of
Golden Dust
I am wealthy in everything
I am grateful for all that is
Here is my soul mate wife
She adores me
She supports me
Here are my beautiful children
They fulfill their life's visions
They bring great happiness
They complete my circle of
Wholeness
My wife and I travel the world
We meet smiling people
We encourage people with love
Inspire them with poetry
Empower many with life stories
We are all beautiful people
Life is an awesome ride
Opening heart and mind to
Peace
Joy
Hope and
LOVE
That is my vision


Watch the video version of Welvin's Vision, movingly interpreted by Akasa Sound.

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Happy New Year!

Here is a toast to a Happy New Year! And to us! All of us!
That we may prosper and thrive throughout this year and every year to come. That we may be strong in health and gentle of heart. That we may once and for all make peace and save the earth, so that "Peace on Earth" rings true as crystal. That we may toast the future with hope.

As we look forward, this event-horizon New Year's Day, I give you a look back; to one of the Beat Generation's finest, one of our finest - - Lawrence Ferlinghetti. Painter, poet, publisher, and founder of San Francisco's legendary City Lights Books, he is commonly considered one of the greatest literary figures of the 20th century.

In September of 2007 Democracy Now! radio aired an interview with him, which you can now catch on their website. Ferlinghetti has never dropped the Beat...

Ferlinghetti: I’d like to read one poem that I just wrote. I really want to get this out.

PITY THE NATION
(After Khalil Gibran)

Pity the nation whose people are sheep,
and whose shepherds mislead them.
Pity the nation whose leaders are liars, whose sages are silenced,
and whose bigots haunt the airwaves.
Pity the nation that raises not its voice,
except to praise conquerors and acclaim the bully as hero
and aims to rule the world with force and by torture.
Pity the nation that knows no other language but its own
and no other culture but its own.
Pity the nation whose breath is money
and sleeps the sleep of the too well fed.
Pity the nation—oh, pity the people who allow their rights to erode
and their freedoms to be washed away.
My country, tears of thee, sweet land of liberty.