I’ve always been a little bit obsessed with reliquaries. I remember once as a child going on a day trip to Church site that not only had a grotto but also had an entire collection of little glass bubbles each a perfect little reliquary. As far as I remember there was a piece of a female saints cloak, a toe bone of another saint and a splinter of wood from the cross where Jesus was crucified. Oh such magic to the child with the pagan heart who was brought up catholic! The sheer mystery – I could almost hear the story of how the cloak came to be here, the toe bone and the many clips of hair!
The little church on the site, the All Saints Reliquary Chapel contains 735 relics of many saints, seemingly the largest collection of relics outside Rome.
Roadside Shrine with Catholic Saints on a Druidic Sacred Oak (source)
Usually my first place to visit would be the river, beach combing along the banks of the Clyde, but i’m no longer in Scotland so i’ll begin on the banks of the French Broad River. She is old but she is fast. Her swirling currents pull you back in time to a time before roads and logging. She is the oldest river in the world, far older than the mountains she has carved her path through. To the The Cherokees she is Tah-kee-os-tee or “racing waters,” Poe-li-co, Agiqua, and Zillicoah.
And so I am gathering bones and shells, stories and pieces of half heard conversations while sewing on remnants of dreams that left you feeling drenched in the deep mystery of things…
Let us see what magic we can weave….