To the Lake we go

In July I have been doing a lot of writing and reading by the lake shores of my ancestoral lands. It's amazing to watch children play in the lake. The games they invent are so clever. And the way the lake changes from the morning cricket sounds to the hot quiet of the day to the evenings croaking of frogs.

Laguz, the rune, is a shifting and changing thing. It wants me to be quietly observant as a mother watching her children. Cautious that they neither get too far out nor too rough and court danger, I decide to join them. I feel the heat on my head and the cool of the water to the core of my body as we pretend to be snakes and fish and frogs.

The dog by the lake caught a frog. My nieces and I gave it a good viking funeral. We built it a raft and provided it with bugs to eat on the journey and little "swords" in case she meets her foe on the other side...she died with her eyes wide open, staring the black retriever in the face, staring death down. She will surely know her enemy's face on the other side. Oh yes.
Our frog will be fine.

The lake has her now.

We've been recording

Take a listen to the new versions of Dromte, the Voluspa etc.
http://www.karitauring.com/HuldreMp3s.htm

More and more to come as Kari writes for the study and travel grant that would expose new material both here in Minnesota and in Norway!

Five Crones, One Garage

I was honored to present/perform the Huldre Project to my mother and her two sisters, one cousin, and a deep roots friend of the family on Saturday, July 8th, 2006.

June's musings were un-bloggable! I was so busy with recording, writing, and editing that there was really no room for new musings at all.

But, oh! The love and excitement in sharing this past few month's work with the matriarchs of my family, when all my work has been about them, really, my roots. Well, I will tell you. I am so full of joy at the response they gave.

I think Joy is a really delicate balance between pride and humility. I think that could be part of it's definition, anyhow.

I love my muses and my mothers and their mothers before them for all the deep roots material they have provided me. A sense of nourishment and security comes from all of this and it is bound to grow some more lovely fruits than even I can imagine.

Tak fer alt, bestemors!

Kari