“Tree Lights/Way Home”
“Forest Land/Lachten”
Lachten
Lachten
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Photography Exhibition Gotha
2 Nov presented and supported by:
Line-up:
SPECIAL GUEST #1: Teufelskunst
Entrance: 6 pm
Tickets:
Sunflower Field and Sunset
12 Aug Sonnenuntergang Dölzschen
Abendstimmung Dresden Dözschen
Abendhimmel Dresden Pesterwitz
Visiting a sunflower field, before venturing on to gather wild herbs and rowan berries. I recharge and absorb the warmth of the evening sun. The temps have dropped to a chilling 12 °C. Going deeper into the sunflower field, a bee, stiffened from the cold, is stuck to a huge sunflower head. I wonder if it will make it through the night. It would wake up to plenty of food though. A few seconds later the sun has vanished and the sky is ablaze…
Bees on our White Lavender
11 Jul Every year, dozens of bees and bumblebees are collecting nectar and pollen on our white lavender. Now is that time again. The above photo was a lucky shot. My lens is not really suited for macro photography. But in this image all the details of the insect are clearly visible, whereas the surrounding has a nice bokeh effect, created by motion blur and depth of field. So here we go, another bee joins the “flower devils” photo series.
Dissection Photo Maps
7 Jul Commemorating the 10 year anniversary of the “Dissection Midsummer Massacre”, I am making new photo maps. The map shown here was commissioned by a fan from Germany. The map contains 32 prints of my concert photos from the Dissection Midsummer Massacre + 1 band photo from the “Reinkaos” album booklet. The prints are 20 x 30 cm. Each photo is signed on the back. The map is hand-made from black photo-carton and the hendecagram on the cover is also drawn by hand. A short intro text accompanies the photo prints. For details please view the above photos.
Pricing: 99 Euro + shipping
For ordering please write me an e-mail at contact @ wr-photography.com
Back at the Blackthorn Gate
2 Jun
The sunset that evening
The grass on the meadow in full bloom; everything smelled like summer
The Blackthorn hedge forms a gate around a beaten path. As the former hedge slowly grows into trees, they begin to wither from within, whilst new blackthorn shrubs grow on the outside. With the years a dense thicket is formed, where birds and other animals find a home.
A poison hemlock plant, found on a meadow. The purple spots on green stem and pungent smell easily distinguish it from other umbelliferous plants.
From the gathered blackthorn branches thorn-crowns are made. I’ve been working with the blackthorn for over a decade; since three years I am returning annually to gather branches for making these thorn-crowns. This year I gathered material for making four to five crowns. Two are already reserved. E-mail me if you are interested in receiving one as well.
Fingers II
9 Apr
This time it is not about a surreal dream and also not about the fennel. But it is about another plant’s “fingers”. In folklore the male fern’s “hand” is a lucky charm, meant to bestow fortunes and the power over the souls of the dead to it’s owner. In order to obtain it, the sorcerer must harvest the male fern’s root on the Eve of St. John. Then he must roast the root in the fire. The hand is made in such manner as to bind five strands of the fronds together: the root base of the stem is left attached and the rest of the frond’s foliage is removed. The result resembles a “hand”, with tendons (hairy stems) and fingers (stipe bases). Frankly, I never made such “hand” in this manner. But I’ve gathered plenty of male fern roots and had the most magical experiences granted through working with these roots in various ways, always discovering new aspects to this wondrous plant. Above is another version of this “lucky hand”, formed by the stipe bases and a single frond.
Btw., the stipe bases of the male fern’s fronds are green and spongy towards the center, whereas as the outer (old) parts turn black and rot. So if you were to use the root, make sure you actually use the parts that still have juices in them. Below is a close-up of how that should look:
Male Fern stipe base, light green in color and of a spongy texture
Male fern root: in the bowl are the vital parts, to the left are the rotten parts
More about the male fern
Male fern inspired art:
“Dead Man’s Eve”, pencil drawing, 2010
Male Fern plant sigil, 2010
Foetid Devil
8 Mar
Common Carder Bee (Bombus pascuorum), on Stinking Hellebore (Helleborus foetidus) flower
King Dude
4 Mar
Of capnomancy, silver crucifixes and pesky crane drivers….
King Dude and his Demon Brothers, Feb. 26, 2016, Scheune, Dresden
Bringing the devil’s music to town and entertaining the audience with an explosive mix of melancholia, laughter and anger. We have to thank mister TJ “King Dude” Cowgill and his musical companions for a fine show.
Winter Walk: Sacred Thorn Grove, January’s Mysteries and the Bloody Tears of the Cherry Tree Sisters
14 Jan
Steady-paced I walk up the hill. The air is pleasantly cold. It clears the mind and disperses my headache. I am not freezing. The road I’m walking up is called Am Kirschberg, literally meaning “by the cherry mountain”. The field to the left is covered with a thin layer of snow. The dark frozen soil is sticking out of the white. Ploughing traces create zen like, eye-dazzling patterns. At the end of the long stretched field the view is clearing up towards town. Over the horizon line a narrow golden band illuminates the sky. Above me are grey clouds. I am planning on a short walk, but my legs carry me in a different direction…
Atop a stone wall by the castle, I find the wormwood has not entirely fallen victim to the frost. Next to fading foliage, fresh silvery green leaves are sprouting forth. I gather a few of them, enough for a small winter herb bundle to hang up at home. When dried, it will empower necromantic incense blends. Looking across the river valley, remnants of snow are showing between leafless trees and dark rocks. The sky is an eyeful and I would enjoy the silence, if it wasn’t for cars flashing past on a mint-green autobahn bridge.
The Thorn Grove in Winter
The way down is frozen over and I hold onto the rusty handrail in order to not slip and fall. People coming my way do not greet me and I do not greet them either. Halfway down the hill, I arrive at the thorn grove. The path up there leads through leafless hawthorn trees growing in all directions. A jay sitting in the branches looks at me but does not fly off. Cautiously I venture on. The ground is muddy and slippery. Most of the snow at this side of the hill has melted. By the rocks I find another wormwood plant and spot a bird’s nest near where the jay had been. I am looking around, breathing the fresh winter air, trying to focus my myopic eyes on the distance. I think of none. It is a good place for the soul.
Above, the hawthorn thicket is overgrown by raspberry and wild rose. To the right there are young blackthorn shrubs. Their thorns are long and sharp. The young twigs are flexible and make the best thorn-crowns. Further uphill, there is another areal of high-grown hawthorn trees, partly covered in ivy. It’s bordering at a property and the allotment gardens are close. One is likely to meet passersby here. But a magician knows to use the gaps and at night the place is dead silent. Today, however, I am only a passerby myself.
A Thin White Veil upon the Field
I’m on my way home, stopping now and then, intrigued by the formations of clouds and the golden light of the sun further afar. A skein of geese is on its way southwards. Passing by wild cherry trees lining the field, I search their stems for resin and at last find a group of three tall and slender trees, the base dripping with soft, blood-red gum. I memorize the spot and proceed, faster now. I have to watch my steps. The trail is akin to an ice rink.
At the birch tree, I stop once more. From here the field looks softer…
The birch is a pioneer, a tree of new beginnings and the first to come back after complete devastation. The birch profits from death and desolation, but it also paves the way for others to follow and thrive. Beith is for birch, the tree of January, the door opener.
Remnants of snow on the barren field, remind of the birch’s torn bark. It starts raining and continues to do so. The next day the snow will be gone.
The Blood-Red Resin Tears of the Cherry Tree Sisters
Returning to the cherry trees, the resin is moist from the rain water and easy to scrap off. I collect a jar full, which I later place on the heat. The resin dries and hardens quickly. In its soft state it is sticky and a yellow golden color. It smells remotely of ripe cherries and of caramel, when burnt. In German it is also known as Katzengold, literally “cat’s gold”, and used for sweetening cough tea. In my worship, I employ the dark red resin tears for Naamah and other female entities. In their harvest, take care to not take everything and leave some behind for the spirits, along with offerings for the guardians of the trees. Physical gifts are symbolical and in order, but they count none without respect and patience. The latter are the true sacrifice. The trees will remember your signature and recognize you next time you approach them.
I am thankful. The thought had crossed my mind to scar the trees in order to gather their resin. But I have not done so. Therefor I am blessed.
Concerning the Wood Wide Web: http://www.bbc.com/earth/story/20141111-plants-have-a-hidden-internet
4th Sunday of Advent
22 DecThis has been a magical evening spent with a friend, who has known me for over 25 years. It was her idea to go for a photo tour. Whatever she does, she gives 200%. She brought a tripod and heavy camera. I was the opposite: light camera, no tripod. I’m excited to see her photos. One thing is already for certain: we had a blast. Now we were not the only ones in town with a photo plan. At some places we had to wait for others, who had already set up their equipment to move. Seldom have I seen Dresden that busy on a Sunday night.
Wiebke Rost 