Beginning Something

Alchemy through the Red Sea

Alchemy through the Red Sea

Materials to hand:  a way through the Red Sea:  waves to each side, drawn back, stand high.  The ripples in the sand are fishes of the Sun.

When a big wave passes over, when the Occupying urgency isn’t here, my depleted system has to grow again – slowly – seeking equilibrium.    Big outgoings from deep within are for me, profoundly therapeutic.  Yet the shifting hurts.  Protest!   It is one thing to ride the tide:  it is another to be tossed like an impudent surfer in its wake, or thrown among the rounding scuttling wet pebbles as it drops back into the further oncoming of itself.   Then I droop over the bones and stiffen with the cold, and feel confused.  Sing over the bones, as the women did of old, and wait!

a high wave in Portugal

a high wave in Portugal, with surfer

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In my recent post Siva Tests Parvati, I mentioned Rahu, the Vedic god of the Moon’s north node cycle.  Rahu was a demon:  he crept up close to where the gods feasted on their immortality and – like Prometheus – dared to sip their elixir!  He was discovered at once:  they severed his head from his body. They condemned him to eternity with that sublime taste – a nectar, a mouth without a body.

Yet Rahu brings us – like the gift of fire – that tantalizing glimpse.  He is a non-entity:  the field-frequency of a moving point where Moon’s orbit around the earth intersects Earth’s orbit around the Sun.  This point moves around the Zodiac, completing itself every 18.6 years.   Rahu’s antipodeal point, south of the equator, is called Ketu.   Rahu signifies what we accumulate:  Ketu reveals what we have to let go.   They echo the equatorial oscillation of Capricorn and Cancer tropics, the song of humankind.

Ketu Southnode by janeadamsart

Rahu Northnode by janeadamsart

Rahu is a paradox – awakening, charisma and delusion.

For many of us, Rahu is the archetype of the glorious illusion, the glitz, the power and quest of life. He is the “tantalus”.  He is the inner tuition through which “the Shepherd leads himself back to Himself” … “the One most fully present in His seeming absence” … “honour Him with integrity or He will swallow you whole” … “there is no where in heaven or hell where I AM not” … “I do not believe – I know” …  (Rahu’s cosmic Love song  by Jeanette Kishori McKenzie)

Here is my brand new sketch of him:

Rahu, north node

Rahu, north node – Scroll down the Comments on this image, to its source, Rahu Baba/video links

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His body is his own fantasy.

I like also this online image of Rahu:  here he rides a lioness.  How the Ganga and other rivers from the Himalayan watershed leap like lioness from the snows, and down through the deep valleys like Solomon‘s gazelle !

Rahu by srishti wilhelm vedicastrology.net

Rahu by srishti wilhelm vedicastrology.net

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I went to visit Jeanette in Chichester.  I left my camera behind last time, and we decided not to entrust it to the post:  but the agenda transformed to a practical Rahu seminar, getting the boat ready!    She teaches people.  His lovesong in her body, is Let it Be, sing with it, be with, move with it, dance into its interest, difficulty and irregular unusualness – let bones grow and edges be crisp.  I had a bandaged right wrist – a tendon weakness and OW – which she eased at once, by telling me to put big toe on ground like a root, and triad it with little toe and heel:  and to stroke out the arm issue into the air, like pulling out little sticks from a beavers dam –  after a bit it suddenly falls in and flows, and the obstruction passes out.   My right arm still gets cross about last summer’s overwork in my mother’s garden:  I kept on hacking and clipping way past the pain No-No.

The pulling out sticks and thorns from a wailing joint is the same as encouraging them to float out from my soul.  It all takes time.

Rahu is this space with everything passing through:

by the sea

Rahu’s lovesong is in my main problem which is the TIREDNESS.   I had it at primary school, coming home from the overload of impressions, to cry and whinge.  It still feels this way.   Pain, psychic interior pain. The awareness brings up all the times I blasted on through the tiredness barrier;  so I get it now, with dividends.   I am a stranded dolphin. Too bad about the equinoctial flow and the joys of spring!  Honour the god by easing along with what I am. My headache, the wear and tear of life today, pulls up many, many stuck voices of tiredness and skinlessness.  They too have the right to breathe and to open.  Reality.

We drove quickly to the sea coast, the tide was in, and I thought of my brand new folding bike and the empty Suffolk coastline, eagerly.

Some of Jeanette’s creative waterfall  processes through my system, too.      She made another AMAZING LUNCH, it began with juiced beetroot, apple, carrot, celery and lemons.   It was EARTH-ILY DELICIOUS, but didn’t perk me up yet.   It continued with beetroot and apple grated salad, and a warm mix of millet and veg, garnished with yeast flakes and hempseed, oil and balsamic.   Fabulous.    I sat on an inflated exercise ball – very nice for rotating lower spine and hips – this made me feel better.

blue ball

Women in labour watch women work!

Rahu gathers together, indraws the threads, pulls the strings, Rahu’s outrageous love song is pure Uranian, a tale of the Unexpected, love it, live with it, receive it in full like a wave right through, and let it go.

music making 1

music making 1 – keep practicing

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lunar node symbols

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music making touch

music making touch

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music making 2 - still trying to keep in tune

music making 2 – still trying to keep in tune

polarity

polarity

So we went to the sea for a moment, stood on the shingle in the salt, saw Her waves slapping in aslant, biting cold wind, sour little English houses and closed icecream parlour and carpark.   Rahu by the sea, the great Mere.    “Rahu takes the given dissonance right to the very edge where it falls into harmony.”  For Jeanette the dissonance opens her into a yoga that explores and flirts with it.  For me the dissonance is my recurrent Fatigue and dislike of public conveyance – sitting upright in buses or train.   Try to be okay with it.

houses by the sea

houses by the sea

And my lack of esoteric curiosity these days, in books or studying.   Where do  I practice?   In the visceral deep feminine sea, in elements, in earth, in absorbing an Elder principle and letting it come through my writing – though I leave the methods and recipes to others. We are One, and I have Kabbalist “recipes” which are the Same.   So nowadays I let it flower, and meet my sisters.

extend flower breathe

extend flower breathe

I went to Chichester to collect my camera, and I came home with a powerful interior snapshot – I was too lazy to take a photo – of me and Jeanette by the brisk bouncing sea, ready to launch.

The goddess in Rahu is a big Steamer with proper funnels … (a long oil ship went by, on the horizon).  Siva tests Parvati with the love song we hear, again and again and again.  It tosses us around in mountains, rivers and the sea.  Be a Temple for the passing through of the Wave.    Thinking again of the lady who dived into the cold, cold and foaming sea, and let nine waves swim right over her before she surfaced with an eldritch seagull cry from the deep.

jeanette's Song of Rahu

jeanette’s Song of Rahu

In this light, I am turned to, and receiving the god.  The god comes to me in any form of Siva.  This is the nub.  There are disclosures and disguises of the god.  But for an undisclosed time now, I want privacy with the god.  I am different child houses being sketched, as in House Life.  Tired or no tired, the god arrives in my being, drags me around a bit,  and shows how all is drawn together.

lake manasarovar near Kailas, roof of the world

lake manasarovar near Kailas, roof of the world

Hm.  The snapshot is in my minds eye now, of Rahu, Jeanette by the sea, a drawing – I can get her right by looking at the video in her link.  Our embarkation is a picture she posted on facebook of a woman silhouette by the sea – Rahu is in both our minds for starters:  and I see together with it, the Roof of the World Manasarovar photo, with a sadhu bathing in it;  and my 1987 drawings of me and the Shadow coming out of the sea –  my spirit child, Malo.

Markham's Stormy-Petrel oceanodroma markham img 1891.jpg

Markham’s Stormy-Petrel oceanodroma markham img 1891.jpg

http://www.cindyvallar.com/superstitions.html … (about the albatross, stormy petrel & mermaids)

Hornbys-storm-petrel img 9390.jpg

Hornbys-storm-petrel img 9390.jpg

The Stormy Petrel is up and running! skimming the water bounce bounce …  and me on the big blue ball while she makes lunch … and a couple of the St Malo waves/sea-scapes.   Rahu with each breaking wave.   And the Alchemy through the Red Sea.   O yes!

List of ingredients comes together for the pot.  And a hint of all those houses, with the 1987 Snake approaching my House.   Ha ha!

serpent & soul '87

serpent & soul ’87

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woman in sea with Shadow '87

woman in sea with Shadow ’87

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woman with shadow Spirit child

woman with shadow Spirit child

We females each harbour and walk with Ms Fanny Cave in our inbetween – the Great Estate of Private Property.  My TIREDS may be sensitive to a cosmic-earth cycle of rise and fall.  It rises, it drains me, it is renewed.  The Archetypes are energy fields, they tweak the system;  they laugh at my temporary outline. The same RUACH within every form and disguise is the sea.  And so my shoulders relax again, obey gravity, water runs off a ducks back.

woman gentling a difficult child

woman gentling a difficult child

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tread softly ... for you tread on my dreams

tread softly … for you tread on my dreams

Still I am tired, and have to go and walk my friend’s dog this afternoon;  but what can I do.   The cosmic, earthickal Magick trickles, flickers and is never fickle.   It is the Power House – the Flame in a little cave.

wood lamp

wood lamp

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GALLERY, sea-scapes at St Malo and Alet, 1986,
with two photos of new bike, last week

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A Poem by Raat Raani.  This arrived in July!  Click on the drawing of Rahu 2, above, to see the comments.

A Halting Litany
(inspired by Shri Rahu)

You are
What I thought I could never afford seeing.
Afraid of seeing,
dare not behold – too scared to ever get hold
of the Darkness,
of this inverted Light of Yours,
with its painful sharpness.

If I get it right,
You are the only power
in this surge of fear from within…
Chastity in the clothes of sin.
Hatred
which is never apart from love…
Hell and Heaven and all above.
Yes and No and Not Stated.

All I have ever seen,
down to the point of the final contraction.
Every action and anyone who acts.
All the lies, all the facts.
Every-single-thing.
But it’s only now that I really can feel it –

Absolute
is a name for vodka
But You are 100% pure Spirit.

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My adventure invites fellow travellers.  I am a poet, an artist and a seer.  I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is  a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.

Aquariel Link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/

Sacred India Tarot Archive: Creation of 8 of Lotuses – Siva Tests Parvati

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Mask

Mask

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Continuing the Sacred India Tarot Archive, by Rohit Arya and Jane Adams.  This post is quite a ragbag, because into it arrived two vintage Himalayan mountaineers:  Siva  tries on their faces to further tease Parvati, perhaps.  Or … an essay on India’s charm for we romantic Brits.

This post belongs with “Solomon” (23 March) which is over in Aquariel, my other blog.

While assembling Solomon and (to conclude) a gist of his Song, I thought of Parvati in her Himalayan forest, watering the trees and being visited by the wise.

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Rohit’s Notes (2004)Eight of Lotuses:  Siva Masks Himself

Lotuses 8 Visual reference  1

Lotuses 8 Visual reference 1

“Siva appears as a smug, self satisfied Brahmin, to test the poor girl, indulging in much abuse of his qualities, nature, life style and appearance.  Parvati responds with anger, as shown in the comic strip below.  This indicates both the Karma which kept them apart, and the fact that when such happens, the illusions which separate people no longer hold sway.  This is the only card where Siva is not shown in colossal stature, and he is not bejeweled or crowned.”

lotuses 8 reference 2

lotuses 8 reference 2

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Parvati pestered by sages - detail

Parvati pestered by sages – detail

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Jane’s Notes

As a Capricorn child, I am bound to identify with the Daughter of the Mountain. My love letter is to the universe, for all hearts to read.   Let it be!

Rahu Northnode ... after tasting the nectar

Rahu Northnode … after tasting the nectar.  The immortal gods severed Rahu’s head from his body, for daring to sip their elixir.  He leads the glorious Illusion through which “the Shepherd leads himself back to Himself” … “the One most fully present in His seeming absence” … “honour Him with integrity or He will swallow you whole” … “there is no where in heaven or hell where I AM not” … “I do not believe – I know” …  Rahu’s cosmic Love song is in this link.  (song of Rahu by Jeanette Kishori McKenzie)

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Here I am, Parvati by the Star pool, listening to Rahu, fishing away for Siva, and pestered by a sage or two !  

Why not take all the time it needs?  The sages who come along are interesting, and sometimes they pretend to be Siva for a while, which is fun.   Siva’s masque fits any of them.  He puts on a different face, pretending to be Rahu’s Head Exchange …   Siva the god of Love is a holy terror among the wives of sages !  Siva shines through Rahu.   Rudra is sometimes Rahu.   They seem to pass through one another.  None of them is really Siva.   This is the Glory and Freedom of Siva.

Rahu’s appearance presages Parvati’s future child with an elephant’s head – Ganesh.

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Parvati pestered  - Version 4

Wives of sages get left alone a lot in the forest.   Up the path through dark stems and columns of sunlight, who comes next?  What matted lean stranger, with loincloth, waterpot and glowing eyes?  Any day, the unexpected !   The call of strange birds, through Himalayan valleys:  the clambering rhododendron giant:  nocturnal mist lifts off the ground, as Surya begins His work for the day.

I think Parvati’s nectarous ecstasy was greater in her expectant Solitude, sleeping out at night and fasting on the ground, than in all the future days of her marriage with Siva on Kailas.   Of course they would  squabble, whenever they came off the peak.   That was the fractious energy field required to conceive their children, Skanda and Ganapati.

My loveliest experience in India, was not Gurus.  I didn’t really take to them, other than Ramana.  It was sitting in Ramanananda’s cottage the other side of Arunachala Hill: the tall medicinal herbs in his garden – all of them collected from sages’ samadhis –  the rocks in his fireplace, his watercolours of the Hill, his old put-put scooter and excellent idiomatic English.  Friar Tuck in horn rimmed specs and orange skirts welcomes staff-bearing kindred spirits.  He is busy raising funds to restore Annamalai Temple:  piles of paperwork perch precariously on pebbles, rudraksha beads and sacred ash.  Through his parlour, men and women sadhus potter and pass the timeless hour:  their laughing Vedic intellect, the Path to Liberation and the heat.

Ramanananda Saraswathi in 1993

Ramanananda Saraswathi in 1993

In modern India and the loosening of some of its brackets, an ancient freedom speaks as it always has. Off the beaten track, Ramananda’s caravan among wiry eucalyptus, catches what breeze it can.  He told me that in summer, if you throw an egg on the wall, it fries, and that he is not really a Swami, he is the Self.

The train stops again.  Through the wide windows, time and tall herbs pass by. In Siva’s fiery light, no caste or custom confines the eccentric delight of elder India.

Mira de Coux

Mira de Coux

It is also my friendship with Belgian Mira when she stayed with me for a short time in London; we laughed about our menfolk.   She like Parvati waited by the Ganga many many moons with cloth and waterpot, till Harilal Poonja returned along the path – her Siva whom she married:   their daughter Mukti.

FOR MIRA AND POONJA

With a ghee lamp   
butter from the cow is burned,   
leaving nor ash nor carbon.

With a ghee lamp   
the cow is burned; pure   
is Vedic light from the Sun she gives.

Fire, brave ship in water shining.   
Sun, bright fire in the sea.   
Water, deep peace of night.   

Fire is in the wood.   
Fire sleeps in the wood.   
Fire from the Sun   
is present in all beings. 

Let there be peace   
to all beings:  to rocks, plants,   
rivers, animals and people.   
Let there be peace. 

His soul is to her love released.   
In the flower childrens' fire,   
Master's body fell, was licked and torn,   
eaten, feasted. Let there be peace   
to all beings.

from Poems of Eclipse, 1999

 cow, dark & light

THE RIVER LADY

The wisdom of an elder, beautiful woman   
plays among the cows.   
The Daughter of the Mountain nomad   
knows not what'll happen next.

With her Master's zest   
she parries the prurient in the bud   
with deft shield   
and sword to tease and pierce. 

Because like Parvati, she by Ganges waited   
outside time, her spouse,   
an old, old river through her flows, a gravitas.   
A terrible compassion in her stands.   

Master's eyes are palpable   
in her round feminine face   
with wide laughter wrinkled -   
a soft river apple blooms.

Bhakti in the West is not well understood.   
The soul of bhakti is the effortless   
being taken;  Master's absence of effort.   
There is no lineage, no permission for the river.   

It overflows its banks, within my house.   
The room is filled with the river lady's 
way of hen partying   
here, with Master in our toes.

My thoughts are cradled in small sails   
the river takes to its own.   

They are brave little ships.   
They are butter, lit in paper boats.

from Poems of Eclipse 1999

butterlamp boat

The luminosity of Vedic India, the shining brown river, the Himalayan myths and legends,  the paradoxical political scene … remain bright and eternal in Parvati’s soul.   I feel the sound of the river and the old wrinkled stones and the sun’s heat even now.   I travel sitting still!   Waiting for Siva is the Himalaya in my soul:  the coming and going of this, is beauty.   Nobody need wait for Siva.   Siva is the perfume of all the whispering leaves.

oaks in treasure wood near Broomlands

I did not tread the shores of Mother Ganga in this lifetime, nor visit Badrinath.  The memory is planted from other lifetimes, who knows when or where ?   Badrinath where Ganga rises, and the mountain-girt sanctuary of Nanda Devi and the Valley of Flowers, are on the watershed, on the direct trail to Kailasa in the north, the shining peak.

himalayan forest

himalayan forest

Let Nanda Devi be my mantra !   She is the goddess of nanda, a male sanskrit word for joy.  In the 1930s, the Himalayan explorer Eric Shipton opened up the dark Rishi Ganga gorge to the secret flowering meadow and snows around Her beautiful high fang, till then inaccessible …    “Rishi” means “Sage”.  The Sages’ silence flows from there, and the mountains are devic beings.

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Eric Shipton

Eric Shipton

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Nanda Devi

Nanda Devi

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If my thoughts seem to stray, it is because Parvati and Siva invoke for me this landscape and its archetypal resonance.  Translating Parvati’s visions on an empty tum, to my inner world in England, I am inspired by the early Himalayan explorers  as they mapped the sacred trail among the high Ganga sources around Badrinath, seat of Vishnu.  I have their books and their old photos.  It is an INVOCATION :  to touch upon, and to marvel.  The trail crosses the watershed.  Its great peaks are Kamet and Nanda Devi, on the way to Kailas in Tibet.

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parvati suspicious

In the book with Sacred India Tarot deck, Rohit writes: 

“Siva, vanquished by Parvati’s great tapasya, and even greater love, still has a puckish desire to test her.  If she was not discouraged by indifference, perhaps she will be by disgust?  Appearing as a young Brahmin, he professes loud astonishment that she is wasting her life and beauty on that fellow Siva.  Is he any sort of goal for decent people?  His family and background is unknown, his ornaments are serpents, he lives in cemeteries with weird goblins, and he certainly has no money. 

“This is a peculiar form of Bhakti called Ninda-Stuthi – Abuse-Praise!  It is coded language for spiritual initiates.  Siva has no money because he is the lord of the world.  He lives in cemeteries because that is where every human ends up.  He has no family and is of uncertain background because He is the origin of the world, and so on. 

“‘He encompasses all things, though he is but one.  Whoever knows him, Siva the Auspicious, wins peace for ever.’

Svetasvarura Upanishad

Sacred India Tarot 7 of Lotuses/Cups:  Siva Tests Parvati

Sacred India Tarot 7 of Lotuses/Cups: Siva Tests Parvati

Rohit continues:  “While Parvati does understand this language, her great love for Siva made these contumelius epithets unbearable.  She began to objurgate this insolent man – scolding and rebuking sharply in a whirlwind of offended love.  “The stupid and envious always say malicious things about the Great Ones of the world.  What is beyond the limited understanding of shallow minds, is condemned.  To speak ill of great souls is a sin, to listen is to participate in that sin.’

The last bonds of impeding Karma snap at that moment, and Siva concedes defeat.  The devas are relieved.  Parvati has in her meditations, worked out their negative Karma too.”  

Finally, embedded in his interpretation, Rohit concludes, “This is an end-of-Karma card … Whatever goes at this time, let it go.  It has no more Karma with you.  Seek new horizons in life.”

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Kailas sacred mountain

Kailas sacred mountain, starlight

Looking for a picture in Frank Smythe’s The Valley of Flowers (Hodder & Straughton 1938) about his exploration near the Nanda Devi sanctuary, I discovered this marked paragraph:

“It was the first time I had travelled alone in the Himalayas, and the experience after the last two caravanserais to Mount Everest, was more than refreshing.  For the first time in my life, I was able to think. I do not mean to think objectively or analytically, but rather to surrender thought to my surroundings.  This is a power of which we know little in the west, but which is a basic of abstract thought in the east. 

“It is allowing the mind to receive rather than to seek impressions, and it is gained by expurgating extraneous thought.  It is then that the Eternal speaks;  that the mutations of the universe are apparent:  the very atmosphere is filled with life and song:  the hills are resolved from mere masses of snow, ice and rock into something living.  When this happens, the human mind escapes from the bondage of its own feeble imaginings, and becomes as one with its Creator. 

“My pen has run away with me.  It often did when recording my impressions in the Valley of Flowers, for it is impossible to continue along conventional channels when the country on either side is so fair … …  

“The silence was complete save for the light, almost imperceptible hiss of the burning logs.  Presently even that died, and the fire shrank to a heap of glowing embers.  The cold stole up behind me;  suddenly I was chilly, and my pipe was out.  A few minutes later I was warm in my eiderdown sleeping bag.  The last thing I saw before closing my eyes, was a bright star poised on a distant ridge, looking at me through the door of the tent.”

Frank Smythe

Frank Smythe

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My adventure invites fellow travellers.  I am a poet, an artist and a seer.  I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.

This blog is  a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.

Aquariel/Solomon Link

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/