crossing the threshold again, again, again…
I’m sitting here the night before the third threshold circle at swan hill studios, and i find myself wanting to write some of this down before it begins.
first, gratitude. sam pooley has been so generous in allowing me to use this beautiful old house for these gatherings. there’s something about the space itself that holds things. it does some of the work before anyone even arrives.
and now, here I am. nearly a year into running these circles. learning as I go. letting it evolve.
I think what I’ve come to understand — slowly, and not always comfortably — is that I need to release the search for perfection. in how I deliver these experiences. in how I hold space. much like my art, the work asks me to let go of the idea that I can control what it becomes.
what I’ve also had to reckon with is something more fundamental about my place in all of this. I exist on the edges of things. the threshold, by its nature, is a liminal space — and that means the people who come to work with me will often move in very different directions in response to the same experience. to call those directions positive or negative feels too simple. but there is something real to name here.
some people arrive, take the drum journey, make something quietly, and leave having processed something that needed to move — emotion or energy or shadow that has been sitting somewhere it shouldn’t. that experience may not feel pleasant. it might be uncomfortable in the body, confrontational in ways they weren’t entirely prepared for. and that is not a failure. that is, perhaps, exactly what was needed.
others will find the same circle deeply restful. pleasurable. a kind of regulated, mindful softening. no less valuable. just different.
when I first began holding circles, I wanted everyone to leave feeling good. I think I’d either lost sight of, or hadn’t yet fully recognised, that people come to these spaces to move things through — through their bodies, and out into the world in whatever way best serves them. and that process isn’t always going to feel nice, especially when it involves something we’ve been reluctant to look at.
I’ve made a kind of peace with that now. my role is to create the container. to offer guidance and gentle nudges. but ultimately, each person arrives at their own threshold at their own point in their own journey. I am not directing that. I’m just tending the space where it can happen.
the drum has become something I didn’t expect it to be for me personally. when I’m drumming, I notice my body in an unusual way. I am committed to one repetitive action. I cannot allow myself to be distracted by passing thoughts. and in that, I journey too. I let the drum tell me the rhythm, the force, the place to strike. it is its own kind of surrender.
the bowls are different. calmer in their energy. but they bring up something harder in me — a self-judgment that sits quietly in that space and watches. I think this has to do with something much older and more ingrained: my relationship with sound, with expression through sound, with whether that expression belongs to me at all. I can trace it, if I’m honest, back to specific moments. things that became foundational in how I learned to hold myself back in that particular way.
that’s probably a post for another evening.
for now, the circle opens tomorrow. and I am, as always, standing at the threshold, ready to lead others across.
altar space from the second circle - hawthorn medicine.
the sacred pause: wintering, weaving, and the way forward
the move with magick samhain gathering. credit to mypaintedlife for the photo.
it has been quiet here since the veils thinned at samhain. i've been aware of the silence on this digital porch, but my energy has been required elsewhere — held within the intimate, demanding, and sacred space of family.
embracing the finite
lately, my path has been walked alongside my father as he navigates a period of significant illness. it has not been an easy season. yet in the difficulty, there has been a profound sense of gratitude. this time has served as a visceral reminder that our time here is finite.
meeting death not as an intruder but as a natural extension of ageing — as a vital part of our sacred cycles — requires a specific kind of internal quiet. i am learning to move through this with humility, grace, and acceptance.
the deep wintering
this year, the wintering felt deeper than usual. the urge to be out in the world vanished, replaced by a need to be in — in the home, in the heart, in the space of honest evaluation.
as we transitioned from the shedding of the wood snake into the spirited energy of the fire horse, i found myself resisting the urge to charge blindly forward. instead, i am choosing to move with the deliberate care of one who has seen the value of the shadows. i am assessing what lies ahead for one crow left, ensuring that the future of this work is built on solid, soulful ground.
a year of weaving: collaboration & community
as the wheel turns and the light returns, my vision for the coming months has crystallised into two guiding lights: collaboration and community.
i feel the pull of sisters and brothers already entering my orbit. we may not yet know the exact shape of what we are building, but the rightness of their presence is undeniable. this year is about moving away from the solitary and toward the collective.
one crow left does not mean one crow alone.
this crow is not searching for a murder, but for her place within a web — a constellation of magical and creative beings. this post serves as a placeholder for the developments and announcements to come. for now, i am simply acknowledging the web as it begins to shimmer into view.
🌑 introducing: the threshold circle
out of this wintering, something new has been quietly taking shape. i'm ready to share it.
the threshold circle is a new monthly ritual at swan hill studios, shrewsbury. a small group. a slow evening. hands making, hearts landing.
we'll open a circle together, set an intention, move through a short drum journey — then settle into 45 minutes of quiet making with sound bowls underneath. no goal. no masterpiece. just you, your hands, and whatever surfaces when things get still.
each gathering follows the thread of the season and the moon. 🌿
the first circle is wednesday 2nd april, 7pm at swan hill studios. eight places only. £20 per person, all materials provided.
what to bring: your journal, a yoga mat, and a blanket to wrap yourself in 🤍
this is not a class. it is a held space.
art from the inbetween. 🐦⬛
→ secure your space via swan hill studios
also coming up: drawn makers market
i'll also be returning to the drawn makers market on sunday 26th april — come and find me there if you want to explore the work, pick up a piece, or simply say hello. there is always something new to see.
more soon. the web is beginning to shimmer.
k x
drawing intention: sigil-making at highly flammable studio
on thursday 17th july 2025, i had the pleasure of facilitating a sigil-making workshop at the vibrant and welcoming highly flammable studio in shrewsbury. organised by the brilliant pippa price, the session was well attended and full of creative energy — a space where people came together to explore the symbolic power of intention through visual form.
today, 17th july, i had the pleasure of facilitating a sigil-making workshop at the vibrant and welcoming highly flammable studio in shrewsbury. organised by the brilliant pippa price, the session was well attended and full of creative energy — a space where people came together to explore the symbolic power of intention through visual form.
what is a sigil?
a sigil is a symbolic design created to represent and focus a specific intention or desire. derived from the latin sigillum, meaning “seal,” sigils are personal magical symbols — visual anchors for our inner goals. unlike traditional symbols with fixed meanings, sigils are unique to the individual and their intention. they can be used in meditation, visualisation, or simply as a quiet reminder of what we’re calling into our lives.
the offering
this was the first of a series of open studio events at hfs running throughout the summer. i was delighted to share the space with jenny o’leary, who expertly guided attendees through batik printmaking. my offering allowed participants a chance to explore sigil-making through three distinct methods:
letter-based: distilling a written intention into a symbol by removing vowels and repeating letters, then abstracting the remaining shapes
symbolic geometry: using shapes, lines, and spatial relationships to represent ideas or feelings
intuitive drawing: allowing the hand to move freely, guided by instinct and emotion, to create a form that feels right
participants were invited to follow whichever method resonated most — or to combine them in ways that felt meaningful. my role was to hold space, offer tuition, and support each person’s creative process as needed. the atmosphere was relaxed and open, with people working quietly, sharing thoughts, and experimenting with form and symbolism.
images by aaron childs / my painted life & pippa price, used with kind permission.
reflections
there’s something quietly radical about taking time to sit with your own intention and give it form. sigil-making is a practice of focus, of trust, and of creative play. it was a joy to witness the variety of approaches and the depth of thought participants brought to their work. scroll below to see the sigils produced. huge thanks to pippa and aaron for hosting, and to everyone who came along and shared their energy.
looking ahead
i’m open to exploring other workshop ideas in the future — if this kind of creative practice speaks to you, i’d love to hear from you. i’ll also be back at highly flammable studio on sunday 31st august for the mini magick market, sharing more of my work and connecting with the local creative community. come say hello.
want to know more?
if you’re curious about sigils or would like to explore this practice further, feel free to get in touch. you can explore more of my work here on the site, or drop me a message via the contact page
hollowing out - reflections from the waning hunter moon circle
“I will carve you so deep the stars will shine in your darkness.”
on the evening of sunday 12th october, under the waning hunter moon, we gathered in circle — a constellation of seekers, artists, and healers — to sit with our shadow, with the intention of identifying, expressing and releasing what no longer served us.
we worked in low light, held by the night and the flame. the energy was irregular, unexpected, emotional, but safe.
I preceded the drum journey with an extract from christin lore weber’s mother wisdom speaks:
I am the cauldron of fire and the cup of milk.
I am the two edged knife.
I am the old woman: I am the queen.
if you seek me you will find me everywhere.
I am the womb of wise blood.
I am the world's crown. I am diamond. I am pearl.
I shine with the wisdom of god.
"I am the circle of being.
I am glory — splendor of infinite life.
I am the spiral, the fullness of being, fully becoming, forever, world without end.
~
some of you I will hollow out.
I will make you a cave.
I will carve you so deep the stars will shine in your darkness.
you will be a bowl.
you will be the cup in the rock collecting rain...
I will do this because the world needs the hollowness of you.
I will do this for the space that you will be.
I will do this because you must be large.
a passage.
people will find their way through you.
a bowl.
people will eat from you
and their hunger will not weaken them to death.
a cup to catch the sacred rain....
light will flow in your hollowing.
you will be filled with light.
your bones will shine.
the round open center of you will be radiant.
I will call you brilliant one.
I will call you daughter who is wide.
I will call you transformed.
this extract was a portal. it reminded us that transformation is not always gentle. that to be a vessel for change, we must first become the bowl. the cave. the hollowness the world needs. this circle was a practice in katabasis — the descent. shadow work is not a trend; it’s a necessity. it asks us to feed the whole, not just the parts we like. and in this lunar phase, as the light wanes and the moon turns inward, I invited those gathered to journey, to create, to reflect and then to cast into the flame.
the planetary alignments echoed this invitation:
mercury in scorpio: this means communication becomes more intense and focused. people are more likely to speak honestly, ask deep questions, and uncover hidden truths.
pluto stationing: pluto is about deep change. when it slows down (stations), its influence is stronger. this can bring powerful shifts, often beneath the surface, that take time to fully show.
venus opposite saturn: this creates tension between love and responsibility. it’s a time when we might question our relationships, set clearer boundaries, or think more seriously about what we value and deserve.
together, these energies created a crucible — a space where we could sit with discomfort, draw, cut, stick and form our truths, and begin the alchemy.
this was our sonic accompaniment.
after our ritual creation, we reflected on the meanings of our work - grief, anger, fortitude, self, blockages, the fear of the unknown. words and hearts were tender. we offered our efforts to the flame, to the universe, charging the ancestors to take that we had exorcised, trusting them to transmute it into positive energy for the universe. this wasn’t a circle of answers. it was a circle of becoming. of spiralling inward. of listening to the quiet wisdom that lives in our hollows.
to those who joined: thank you for your presence, your vulnerability, your brilliance. you are the cup in the rock collecting rain.