I am for..
Love, in all of its Glory
Our Lady of the Tryptamines - Gwyllm Llwydd (this is a photo of this design in Blotter Print Format)
Well, we are finally reach the end of the year and the holiday season beginning. This time last year my sister had just passed away, and our grandson Sorrel was born 4 days after my sister died.
It has been a turbulent year with the weird politics and for myself, ongoing health challenges.
Still, we carry on and I am so happy to be here and doing what I love best, doing my art, being with my family and supporting my community as best as I can. I don't always get there but I do try. I know that people on the main try to do the best as possible. That is what makes community and mutual aid.
We are currently considering making a move to smaller digs, easier to maintain, and less costly.
Sleep has been a bit of an issue, last night I began reading Hugh MacDermid’s “A Drunk Man looks at the Thistle” for perhaps the 3rd time in some 40 years. It really is an amazing piece of poetry. Not easy to read, but worth it in my opinion. A poem of some 100+ pages (113 if I recall properly), all written in the Scottish vernacular. Once you get into the rhythm of it, it is transcendental. Located here at the Gutenberg web site: "Thistle"
Currently working on 2 other Substack’s that have eaten up a lot of time. I have been saving this one for a while. Updating it for the current and all of that.
This entry contains some great poetry from the wonderful Ella Young, a folk tale, a bit of nostalgic music, and more.
Bright Blessings,
G
So, without much further rambling, here is the latest entry:
Menu: The Links / Commercial Break / Ella Young Poetry / New Order: Blue Monday / The Coyote & The Hen
The Links: Art in Art / Nothing Alive is Alien to Me / The Teddy that Talked too much / Cosmic Moss?
Commercial Break:
Gwyllm Llwydd Art Calendar – 2026
Gwyllm 2026 Art Calendar! $26.00 Shipping Included USA
For over 10 years I have been putting out calendars. This one is full of new projects with a couple of nods to the past. All have never been featured in my previous calendars.
Also, if you get a chance, please check out the Gwyllm-Art Sales Page! Many pieces on there with very affordable prices. Some of the pieces go back many years, some are much more recent.
And… of course books. I have a couple to offer:
Order Now!
Alcove of Dreams $42.50 Shipping 6.50 (USA Only)
Please Contact Us for International Shipping Cost:
Autographed Copies Available!
Alcove of Dreams Signed Edition $52.50 Shipping $6.50 (USA Only)
Alcove of Dreams 5-25 Online (Abbreviated PDF)
Purchase Hasheesh Eater Here! 49.00 (USA only)
(Please Contact Us for Overseas Price/Shipping)
The Hasheesh Eater Signed Edition $59.00 (USA only)
(Please Contact Us for Overseas Price/Shipping)
_______
Ella Young Poetry:
The Red Sunrise
(Moraig’s Song*)
O, it’s dark the land is, and it’s dark my heart is,
But the red sun rises when the hour is come.
O, the red sun rises, and the dead rise; I can see them,
And my own boy and Conn, who won the battles,
And the lads who lost.
They have bright swords with them that clash the battle welcome.
A welcome to the red sun that rises with our luck.
*In Irish mythology Moraig (variously Morrigu / Morrigan) was a goddess of war.
—–
Greeting
Over the wave-patterned sea-floor,
Over the long sunburnt ridge of the world,
I bid the winds seek you.
I bid them cry to you
Night and morning
A name you loved once;
I bid them bring to you
Dreams, and strange imaginings, and sleep.
—-
MY LADY OF DREAMS.
ONE night the beauty of the stars
Made magic for me white and still,
I climbed the road above the hill
The road no waking footstep mars.
I met my Lady in the wood
The black pine wood above the hill,
Dream-fair her beauty, white and still ;
I knelt as one before the Rood.
White Dream that makes my life a war
Of wild desires and baffled will
Once more my soul with beauty fill
Rise through the darkness, O my Star.
—-
THE HOUSE OF LOVE.
I BUILT for you a house of joy,
A dun close-walled and warm within ;
Strong-fossed without, lest foe destroy
Or creeping sorrow entrance win.
The wind that wails about the world
Came with you through the open door
My joy-dun into ruin hurled
Lay desolate for evermore.
I built for you a house of dream
Fair as the pearly light of morn ;
Its pillars caught an opal gleam
From skies where night was never born.
The wind that blows the stars to flame
Blew through my house and left it bare :
The beauty vanished when it came,
The columns melted into air.
The next house that I build for you
I’ll build with stars and moon-fire white :
Vaster than those the wind swept through,
Its halls, star-paved, shall front the night.
Mayhap you’ll come and wander there
When all the winds are laid to rest,
i o
And find its sun-bright beauty fair
Beyond the glow in East or West,
Mayhap its radiant fire must fade
Before the wind that wakes the dawn,
The light from Heaven’s heart out-rayed
When suns and moons are all withdrawn.
The wind that beats the stars to dust
May sweep my star-built courts away :
Let my dun fall if fall it must
Its glory lasted for a day.
I care not how I lose anew,
Or round the wreck what winds may wail-
Since God’s own dun was built for you,
You are not houseless, though I fail.
—-
NIAMH.
WHEN the dawn-radiance flushes pearly skies
With faintest rose, and the dawn-beauty fills
The earth with life, you come across the hills
Of gold and ivory where the dawn-wind dies.
O pale you are, and sweet, and in your eyes
The shadow of a dream that daylight kills,
Woven while you lingered by the crystal rills
Between the apple-trees of Paradise.
You gather as you pass with quiet hands
The dawn-white blossoms, ere their beauty
cease :
The frail, pale blossoms that we see unclose
One moment, when our hearts have drawn
the peace
Of twilight round them and the enchanted
lands
Glimmer before us, amethyst and rose.
More on this remarkable woman!
The Coyote and the Hen
Once upon a time a hen was up in the branches of a tree, and a coyote came up to her:
“I’ve brought some good news for you. Do you want to hear it?” asked the coyote.
“Do you really have some good news?” the hen asked.
The coyote answered: “It’s about the two of us.” Hear this, the coyote and the hen have made peace. Now we’re going to be friends and you can come down from the tree. We’ll hug each other as a sign of good will.”
The hen kept asking if it was true what the coyote was saying: “Where was the peace treaty approved, brother coyote?” The coyote answered:
“Over there by the hunting grounds on the other side of the mountain. Hurry up and come down so that we can celebrate this moment of peace.”
The hen asked: “Over there on the other side of the mountain?”
“May God witness that I am telling the truth. Come on down from the tree,” insisted the coyote.
“Maybe you are telling the truth, brother. I see that the dog is coming to celebrate the fiesta with us, because you and he are also going to make peace. I see him coming near, I hear him coming. He’s coming fast and he’s going to grab me, now that you and he have made peace. Do you hear, brother coyote, do you hear?” asked the hen. She was very happy and came down from the branches of the tree.
The coyote accepted this explanation and ran away. As the hen said, the dog was coming, that’s why he left. The hen didn’t want to come down from the tree. She didn’t fall in front of the coyote; if she had, he would have eaten her. She realized he was just telling her lies.
Thus ends the story of the coyote and the hen.
