The Writing Wolf

North to Alaska is on TV again and once more there is the lovely Capucine. For me, when I was growing up, she the epitomized all that was French and all that one aspired to be in terms of looks and grace. Capucine was a Golden Globe-nominated French actress and fashion model best known for her role as Simone Clouseau in the 1963 comedy The Pink Panther and as Michelle "Angel" in North to Alaska. Born Germaine Lefebvre in Saint-Raphaël, in the South of France, Cpucine  soon exhibited an independent, non-conformist personality. She attended school in France and received a B.A. in foreign languages. At 17, while riding in a carriage in Paris, a commercial photographer noticed her. Her elegance and sophistication soon brought her to the attention of modeling agencies where she became a regular fashion model for such fashion houses as Givenchy. Capucine was great friends with Audrey Hepburn , the two having met while modelling in the 40s. They shared an apartment together

I fell in love with Edith Piaf a very long time ago. I was fourteen and crazy for all things French. At that time in our lives most of us fantasize about finding the great love. Girls did it when I was young and I hope they do it still. We try to imagine what it will be like.  Most of my ideas about love came from reading Françoise Sagan  ; "a charming little monster".  Then I discovered Piaf and love on a completely different level; love in the bones and soul as well in the heart and the flesh. Piaff's voice wreaks of pain, as my breath must have wreaked of the forbidden Gauloises Disque Bleu cigarettes. I can't remember how I came to own a recording of La Vie En Rose.  But I can remember the days leading up to my 15th birthday very well.  In the twilight, not wanting to switch the light on to spoil the mood and dreaming to the sound of her voice singing this over and over again; "When he takes me in his arms and speaks softly to me, I see life in r

   In the darkness Drums are beating Telling of a ancient wrong Do you hear them Oh my Sister? Can you sing Old sorrow's song? Did your Mother Tell the story As you sat beside her hearth? Did your Father Tell your Brother As they trod the forest path? Song of sorrow Song of history Like a birthmark on the skin Only love can heal the wound now! Only love forgive the sin Love sung out By hearth, In forest Let the heart song Now begin

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MphBfoSUWrM] Amergin, Bard of the Milesians, lays claim to the Land of Ireland I am a stag: of seven tines, I am a flood: across a plain, I am a wind: on a deep lake, I am a tear: the Sun lets fall, I am a hawk: above the cliff, I am a thorn: beneath the nail, I am a wonder: among flowers, I am a wizard: who but I Sets the cool head aflame with smoke? I am a spear: that roars for blood, I am a salmon: in a pool, I am a lure: from paradise, I am a hill: where poets walk, I am a boar: ruthless and red, I am a breaker: threatening doom, I am a tide: that drags to death, I am an infant: who but I Peeps from the unhewn dolmen, arch? I am the womb: of every holt, I am the blaze: on every hill, I am the queen: of every hive, I am the shield: for every head, I am the tomb: of every hope. Song of Amergin translated by Robert Graves , from  The White Goddess , Faber and Faber Limited, 24 Russell Square London WC1. It appears here under the principle of Fai

[caption id="" align="alignleft" width="192" caption="Benedict Cumberbatch, a 21st Century Sherlock"] [/caption] We all know Mr Darcy of Pride and Prejudice has a mysterious attraction for women. It has been pondered on for years and by many! But is the same thing true of Sherlock Holmes ? Certainly for me it is! For some reason this hero of detective fiction fascinates me! And I don’t think it is only for the quality of his mind, although that is certainly part of the magic. Sherlock Holmes certainly seems to represent some archetype as a Victorian gentlemen detective. This brilliant, London based, “consulting” detective has an odd charisma all his own. He seems to mesmerise both men and women and people have great difficulty recognising that he is, in truth, a creature of fiction. Many visitors seek out his home and I gather letters are still sent to his London address asking for help in solving difficult crimes. But for all his popularity, he

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[caption id="" align="alignleft" width="144" caption="Silk Threads"] [/caption]   Look within yourself and see the silence of eternity. There is nothing else! We are each one of us alone; And all that binds us in the end is love, Or compassion - call it what you will! I will find my loneliness in you And be no longer lonely. Let it be! My inner silence, My eternity. A bridge to you and all the others, Only through this gentle web, Spun of the finest silk And from my heart!

Way back in a part of the sixties that wasn’t the Beatles or Flower Power, I fell in love with the Lilacs. At the time I was living and working in a large country house in the South East of England. Everything was new and fresh for me – the girl from the West Midlands who was just beginning to explore what might be out there! Of yes we had Lilacs in Walsall. But nothing like these great luxuriant trees. I can remember standing by an open window in the early evening with a glass of wine in my hand. There had been a shower of rain. The deep scent of the earth and the smell of Lilacs filled the air. Somewhere in the back ground someone was playing an Ivor Novello song on a piano. I've loved Ivor Novello ever since and I’ve always loved Lilacs. And here is a rather lovely version of that famous song from Alexander Duliba, a classically trained baritone trying to make his mark in the world of Opera. [youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAtP2dgUaeE]

According to Ovid, the Roman poet, Scylla was a beautiful nymph! The sea-god, Glaucus , fell in love with her. But he had fins instead of arms and a fish's tail instead of legs. Scylla was appalled! So she fled from him onto the land and he despaired. He went to the sorceress Circe to ask for a love potion. As he spoke he wove a spell over the mighty Circe and, in her turn, she fell in love with him. But Glaucus would have none of her. Circe was angry. She decided to take her revenge and prepared a very powerful poison. The jealous sorceress poured the vial into the pool where Scylla bathed. As soon as the nymph entered the water, she was transformed into a frightful monster with twelve feet and six heads. Each head had three jagged rows of teeth and angry, growling wolf heads grew from her waist. Scylla’s pain was so great she was rooted to the spot. In her distress she started to strike out destroying everything that came near her. Whenever a ship passed by, each of her heads wou

2011 year marks the 100th anniversary of International Women’s Day. The day was commemorated for the first time on 19 March 1911 in Austria, Denmark, Germany and Switzerland!  It had been established  during the Socialist International meeting the year before. More than one million women and men attended rallies on that first commemoration. In 1975, during International Women's Year, the United Nations began celebrating 8 March as International Women's Day. Two years later, in December 1977, the General Assembly adopted a resolution proclaiming a United Nations Day for Women's Rights and International Peace to be observed on any day of the year by Member States, in accordance with their historical and national traditions. The Day is traditionally marked with a message from the Secretary-General. The Theme for International Women's Day 2011 is Equal access to education, training and science and technology: Pathway to decent work for women So I thought this was an ideal t

For me, like most of us, happiness (and health) comes from keeping a balance between body, mind and spirit! I tend to be obsessive! There is a not-for-profit Native American organisation called White Bison that provides resources for Natives and non-Natives alike. They work to promote recovery from alcohol and drug addiction and are facilitators of the Wellbriety Movement! Each day they send out a simple  Native American meditation . Each one ends with a prayer.  Today's ask us to thank Mother Earth and Father Sky for our lives – simple honest and very powerful spirituality! Given how tested American Indians have been by their history, that simple thank you is an example to us all of spirituality in action.  And it is certainly good enough for  me! Wendy Mason lives in London and works as a a consultant and business coach as well as being a poet and blogger. You can find her on Twitter as @WWisewolf and you can email her at  wendymason14@gmail.com

I became interested in Melusine when an old boss of mine started to calling me by the name.  I never did find out why. But I did decide to find out more and I’ve always been fascinated by mermaids! Melusine is a water fairy in European folklore -  a feminine spirit of fresh waters in sacred springs and rivers.  She is usually depicted as a serpent or fish from the waist down – a kind of mermaid. The "Lady of the Lake" in the legends of Kind Arthur who spirited away the infant Lancelot and raised the child,was just such a water nymph . Water fairies and mermaids are considered seductive and dangerous to humans, especially men! There are many Melusine legends. The chronicler Giraud le Cambrien reported that Richard I of England was fond of claiming he was a descendant of a countess of Anjou who was supposed to  be the fairy Melusine. Richard used to tell the tale and finish with a flourish, concluding that his whole family "came from the devil" and would return to the

Betws-y-Coed ("Prayer house in the wood") in Conwy, North Wales, lies in  a valley near the point where the River Conwy is joined by the River Llugwy and the River Lledr.  It was founded around a monastery in the late sixth century and nearby is the famous Swallow Falls – Rhaedr Ewynnol, in Welsh menaing literally  Foaming Waterfall !  This waterfall on the Afon Llugwy has become a familiar natural celebrity over the past 100 years and has featured on film, postcard and canvas. Rising among the towering peaks of Carnedd Llewellyn the River Llugwy runs eastward towards Capel Curig and Betws-y-Coed, before reaching Swallow falls which is the highest continuous waterfall in Wales. The river hurls itself into a spectacular chasm at the Falls. Best viewed after heavy rain the river rushes down from the mountains through tree-hung, rocky chasms. Jagged rocks and crags divide the stream into a number of foaming cascades which tumble headlong over boulders between richly wooded banks

Pegwell Bay, Kent - a Recollection of October 5th 1858 by William Dyce Painted after a trip Dyce made in the autumn of 1858 to Pegwell Bay near Ramsgate, on the east coast of Kent, this picture is supposed to show various members of his family gathering fossils.  He has carefully recorded the flint-encrusted strata and eroded faces of the chalk cliffs; in the sky is the barely visible trail of Donati’s comet! But the shell pickers have their eyes on the ground, not necessarily understanding or perceiving their transitory place in the universe!  The location is interesting because it is the supposed site of Christianity first coming to Britain and it is a famous location for fossil hunting.  In the book, The Bird of Night ,  the painting is a great source of interest for poor, mad Frances who thinks he understands the painter’s intent!  If you study the painting for a while it becomes haunting and, for me, so was this book! The Bird of Night is the story of the relationship between Egy

I grew up in a large Victorian house on a hill that had coal fires and no central heating. Oh my word was it cold in the mornings in winter! But it was beautiful for two reasons – fern frost on the windows and icicles hanging from the roof outside my window. To adults fern frost was simply the result of ice crystals forming on a window pane. But for me as a child they formed when Jack Frost touched the window pane and the sprite jack Frost was very real. In Viking legend - he is known as Jokul Frosti, meaning "icicle frost" – in English folklore he is known as Jack. Sometimes he is also known as Old ManWinter! He is an elf-like figure who personifies winter and its chilling effects! For me Jack had touched the window and the scupture of his fingers were the icicles hanging from our roof!

Robert Graves (Th e White Goddess ) and the neo-pagans have a lot to answer for with their triple Goddess. We seem to have imbibed that whole "maiden-mother-crone" schema. It brings us all those stereotypes that I believe are best avoided – the girl who must be beautiful, the woman who must be a mother and, after a certain age, all that is left to us is our wisdom! These are gender roles that have existed for thousands of years! I tell you now, I don’t intend to be a crone – even one honoured for her wisdom! In reality, the most famous of the ancient Celtic triple Goddesses is Brigit, the daughter of the Dagda (Father God), often called "the poetess." The story goes that there were three of Brigits, all sisters--Brigit the Poetess, Brigit the Smith and Brigit the Doctor--patrons of their respective skills. But they are all the same age. Brigit’s multiplicity implies that she is a master of many arts – all valuable. Having said that, I am getting very tired of having