Magical Child, Cold Moon
December 7th-9th is the time we’ll be able to view the Cold Moon, our last full moon of 2022. December’s full moon was originally named the Cold Moon by the Kanien'kehá:ka (“People of the Chert”), commonly known as the Mohawk. The Cold Moon has inspired this month’s newsletter download image and has many names from different traditions:
I began working with this image a few years ago during a walk with dear friends at the Rancho Los Alamitos in Long Beach, CA. I took a photo of my then 4 year old daughter at the base of a magnanimous tree near an adobe home the Nieto family built (sometime between 1800-1834) on a hilltop near the location of Povuu'nga land. I find a deep sense of awe that the tree roots into that hilltop location seeming to sing praises to the Rancho's most valuable resource of all, the fresh-water spring right below the hill. The trunk sprawls and gestures like an undulating landmark, mapping the presence of the spring as a sacred site. Each time I look at the tree with my daughter emerging from its roots, I feel transported to the realm of the Magical Child Archetype.
Last year, I deepened into the metaphors that nature gives us with our spinning planet and its views of the moon reflecting the presence of our sun. I took a different walk through Descanso Gardens with dear friends who treated us to an evening to celebrate our daughters' birthdays. There, we tread on Tongva land where Descanso featured their annual "Enchanted Forest of Light" exhibition. It is an annual, interactive, nighttime experience, featuring a one-mile walk through unique lighting experiences created by installation artists amongst the most beloved parts of the gardens. I was particularly awe-struck by the moon-like light with reflective waters and dancing trees lit by deep ultramarines. This year, I added Forget-Me-Not flowers to the digital landscape I created last year. As I cycle back to work on this image now, it leads me deeper into a sense of timelessness, or at least, a sensation of layers upon layers of cycles. It reaffirms that time is like a never ending fractal.
I zoomed in on the moon and created a golden rectangle portal, superimposing all of it into outer space. Just as I can zoom in and out of focus, I can zoom in and out of scales and cycles. Working with digital imagery and using the functionality of screens and smartphones mimics my grounded soul’s ability in the physical way my fingers can pinch on the screen, sliding forwards and backwards, magnifying or zooming out to increase my field of vision.