I can find symbolism in just about anything; to me, everything within context means something. Enough presence and time [observation] will reveal that every little thing has a story to tell and a message to share.
The symbols and imagery that feel as though they parallel our lives or represent an aspect of our innermost selves can become sacred. These symbols serve as reminders for where we’ve come from, the things we’ve endured, the highest version of ourselves we’re working towards being, memories of things we’ve lost; they feel deeply personal.
My evolving relationship with this creative entity I call Hina Luna is a devotion to the concept of body and home as an altar. Through the work I do in my home studio to the curations I collect for the shop, I am exploring what it means to participate in a mindful practice of adorning yourself and your space in visual reminders of what is sacred to you. When you dress your self, it means choosing with intention that which you wish to embody, through consideration of color, pattern, texture, comfort, shape. When tending to your living space, it means decorating with simple treasures that inspire you on your journey and make your shelter feel like a home.
The art of adornment is a primordial, innate desire to collect and to decorate and to express what exists in the deepest parts of us. Certain colors, symbology, and nature allies can together represent our unique stories and become magical tools to support us in this lifetime.
What color invokes feelings of home?
Which plants speak to you?
Who are your animal familiars?
Which of the natural elements do you share energy with?
The ways in which you choose to interact with your answers to the above questions, the ways in which you adorn and practice ritual and mindful presence become a celebration of who you are; a reclamation of your self, your time and your personal magic.
My life feels best when I make space for imbuing everyday tasks with ceremony. It really can be as simple as presence and it also can be making an added effort [when I have the capacity] to adorn in an intentional way. My favorite example of this is from today, actually — the single mulberry stem I clipped from my tree early this morning to use as an adornment around the new altar cloths I spent the day photographing. It now sits resting in a jar of water on my windowsill, the berries of varying ripeness glistening in the sunlight like jewels, reminding me of the past weeks of steady creative work, my anticipation for the release, the gratitude I have to my community that receives me, and the first inklings of Spring, waxing into full ripeness.
Today is the day and I am celebrating with my little mulberry branch — a fresh collection of offerings from the studio releases today in honor of the Equinox.
Being my first body of work since last summer in preparation for the Fall Equinox release, I have had many months to observe and listen and contemplate the themes arising in the collective and within myself. This Spring feels like coming up for air even if another wave might be coming; a moment of relief, of expansion, a glimpse of light.
Color is holding a special kind of magic for this collection as is the imagery that adorns it. After over two years of exploring other plant pigments, indigo was whispering to me again [and to many of you too as shared in last week’s blog post] and thus has made its return — which means I am living life with blue stained fingernails once again.
Watery blues for this new moon in Pisces and wide open skies, verdant greens in honor of the coming Spring, warming hues for the blooming blossoms and the clay pots that may hold them, and rose as a balm for your tender heart, artichoke because even under all the armor they have hearts too, fig for fertility in all of its forms, nasturtium and rosemary for vitality and resilience, and one vessel filling another because those are the times we’re in.
These are symbols to remind you to take care, to tend to your self so that you may tend to others; symbols to remind you that there is life emerging from winter’s deaths.
This collection of pieces is for the collective, they’re for me in the experience of creating them, and they’re for you, to adorn your body, your home, your altars with the sacred symbols that hold your story.
What colors are you resonating with as the seasons change?
What symbology [colors, elements, animals, plants] feels representative of your heart space?
How are your personal symbols present in your daily life?
In honor of the Equinox, how might you bring a sense of balance into your present life?