Merryn Bowman
@merrynbowman.bsky.social
Mytho-poet. Animist. Ritualist. Storyteller. Sacred Play. OBOD Ovate. Queer Artist & facepainter. Crafting magical items.
Irish-Dumnonian on Ngāti Kahu lands
Irish-Dumnonian on Ngāti Kahu lands
Well, today I picked up a freshly killed Pukeko off the road, and the children I work with guided me in how to process the body for meat, and how to know if it's safe to eat. We marinaded it, and cooked it with veggies to share for lunch. Everyone grinning from ear to ear, sharing a bountiful gift.
February 26, 2025 at 4:57 AM
Well, today I picked up a freshly killed Pukeko off the road, and the children I work with guided me in how to process the body for meat, and how to know if it's safe to eat. We marinaded it, and cooked it with veggies to share for lunch. Everyone grinning from ear to ear, sharing a bountiful gift.
Moments from our Lughnassadh celebration in the Far North of Aotearoa. This is our second year of celebrating the seasons as a community /|\ #pagansky
Moments from our Lughnassadh celebration:
A young father volunteers to cut the first corn. He takes it to the top of the highest tree. Young and old gather beneath to watch his ascent. There's a hush as we strain to hear him, far above, shouting praise to the land as he scatters seeds far and wide.
A young father volunteers to cut the first corn. He takes it to the top of the highest tree. Young and old gather beneath to watch his ascent. There's a hush as we strain to hear him, far above, shouting praise to the land as he scatters seeds far and wide.
February 9, 2025 at 5:50 AM
Moments from our Lughnassadh celebration in the Far North of Aotearoa. This is our second year of celebrating the seasons as a community /|\ #pagansky
Moments from our Lughnassadh celebration:
A young father volunteers to cut the first corn. He takes it to the top of the highest tree. Young and old gather beneath to watch his ascent. There's a hush as we strain to hear him, far above, shouting praise to the land as he scatters seeds far and wide.
A young father volunteers to cut the first corn. He takes it to the top of the highest tree. Young and old gather beneath to watch his ascent. There's a hush as we strain to hear him, far above, shouting praise to the land as he scatters seeds far and wide.
February 9, 2025 at 5:41 AM
Moments from our Lughnassadh celebration:
A young father volunteers to cut the first corn. He takes it to the top of the highest tree. Young and old gather beneath to watch his ascent. There's a hush as we strain to hear him, far above, shouting praise to the land as he scatters seeds far and wide.
A young father volunteers to cut the first corn. He takes it to the top of the highest tree. Young and old gather beneath to watch his ascent. There's a hush as we strain to hear him, far above, shouting praise to the land as he scatters seeds far and wide.
Today in Te Hiku, our wee community is celebrating Lughnasadh, first fruits of the harvest. We plan to bake bread using the first grains, and to have a 'no money' market, where we trade our abundance, from food & crafts, to sharing our skills with each other.
May yours be as fruitful /|\ #witchsky
May yours be as fruitful /|\ #witchsky
February 6, 2025 at 10:24 PM
Today in Te Hiku, our wee community is celebrating Lughnasadh, first fruits of the harvest. We plan to bake bread using the first grains, and to have a 'no money' market, where we trade our abundance, from food & crafts, to sharing our skills with each other.
May yours be as fruitful /|\ #witchsky
May yours be as fruitful /|\ #witchsky
Don't listen to anyone else's life advice just because they're older.
But when you meet older people you admire, listen to their stories. Stories are where their lived experiences and your yearning curiosity meet and spark something in you - something only you can recognise.
But when you meet older people you admire, listen to their stories. Stories are where their lived experiences and your yearning curiosity meet and spark something in you - something only you can recognise.
people over 30 quote this with some life advice for the rest of us?
January 31, 2025 at 2:20 AM
Don't listen to anyone else's life advice just because they're older.
But when you meet older people you admire, listen to their stories. Stories are where their lived experiences and your yearning curiosity meet and spark something in you - something only you can recognise.
But when you meet older people you admire, listen to their stories. Stories are where their lived experiences and your yearning curiosity meet and spark something in you - something only you can recognise.
I read that the Gods turn those who are devoted to the muses into cicadas, so they can sing endlessly, with no need for food & drink. Can you imagine?
Eking out every moment of your short life in praise of art, until even your body succumbs - a final offering to artful life. /|\ #witchsky
Eking out every moment of your short life in praise of art, until even your body succumbs - a final offering to artful life. /|\ #witchsky
January 29, 2025 at 9:13 PM
I read that the Gods turn those who are devoted to the muses into cicadas, so they can sing endlessly, with no need for food & drink. Can you imagine?
Eking out every moment of your short life in praise of art, until even your body succumbs - a final offering to artful life. /|\ #witchsky
Eking out every moment of your short life in praise of art, until even your body succumbs - a final offering to artful life. /|\ #witchsky
Here in Aotearoa, the tuna (Māori word for eel) are the guardians of the waterways.
Ancient and mysterious. Lurking. They're nearly blind, but their senses are so strong. They're in decline, like the health of their river ecosystem homes.
When I meet one I feel my heart race. I feel blessed. /|\
Ancient and mysterious. Lurking. They're nearly blind, but their senses are so strong. They're in decline, like the health of their river ecosystem homes.
When I meet one I feel my heart race. I feel blessed. /|\
January 26, 2025 at 3:25 AM
Here in Aotearoa, the tuna (Māori word for eel) are the guardians of the waterways.
Ancient and mysterious. Lurking. They're nearly blind, but their senses are so strong. They're in decline, like the health of their river ecosystem homes.
When I meet one I feel my heart race. I feel blessed. /|\
Ancient and mysterious. Lurking. They're nearly blind, but their senses are so strong. They're in decline, like the health of their river ecosystem homes.
When I meet one I feel my heart race. I feel blessed. /|\
I see too many community gardens that don't understand the power for peace, healing, and thriving community that they could provide. A thread of my thoughts on what I've seen, and what they could become. /|\
Community gardens: If you are not truly open for all to take what they need, even when they're not in a place to reciprocate, are you really standing for thriving community? Or just hoarding resources under the consumer-capitalist paradigm?
January 26, 2025 at 2:35 AM
I see too many community gardens that don't understand the power for peace, healing, and thriving community that they could provide. A thread of my thoughts on what I've seen, and what they could become. /|\
Community gardens: If you are not truly open for all to take what they need, even when they're not in a place to reciprocate, are you really standing for thriving community? Or just hoarding resources under the consumer-capitalist paradigm?
January 26, 2025 at 2:04 AM
Community gardens: If you are not truly open for all to take what they need, even when they're not in a place to reciprocate, are you really standing for thriving community? Or just hoarding resources under the consumer-capitalist paradigm?
I love that the blooming of this corpse flower, named Putricia, was staged as beautiful, living and impermanent art.
Fave quote: "I mean, was it a nice smell? No, but it was impressive"
Fave quote: "I mean, was it a nice smell? No, but it was impressive"
Corpse flower blooms in Sydney for the first time in 15 years: "Smells like dead animal"
YouTube video by Global News
youtu.be
January 25, 2025 at 3:45 AM
I love that the blooming of this corpse flower, named Putricia, was staged as beautiful, living and impermanent art.
Fave quote: "I mean, was it a nice smell? No, but it was impressive"
Fave quote: "I mean, was it a nice smell? No, but it was impressive"
A wee storytale I wrote to my 5 year old self. Perfect for bedsides or campfire circles.
I'm working to bring back storytelling in my own little community, because "Sometimes a person needs a story more than food to stay alive." - Barry Lopez, Crow and Weasel /|\ #pagansky #mentalhealth
I'm working to bring back storytelling in my own little community, because "Sometimes a person needs a story more than food to stay alive." - Barry Lopez, Crow and Weasel /|\ #pagansky #mentalhealth
The Witch Who Lost Her Voice
A Story for My Younger Self
merrynsmoor.substack.com
January 24, 2025 at 8:25 PM
A wee storytale I wrote to my 5 year old self. Perfect for bedsides or campfire circles.
I'm working to bring back storytelling in my own little community, because "Sometimes a person needs a story more than food to stay alive." - Barry Lopez, Crow and Weasel /|\ #pagansky #mentalhealth
I'm working to bring back storytelling in my own little community, because "Sometimes a person needs a story more than food to stay alive." - Barry Lopez, Crow and Weasel /|\ #pagansky #mentalhealth
If you're interested, this is the story of making my wand /|\
merrynsmoor.substack.com/p/pohutukawa...
merrynsmoor.substack.com/p/pohutukawa...
January 24, 2025 at 6:02 AM
If you're interested, this is the story of making my wand /|\
merrynsmoor.substack.com/p/pohutukawa...
merrynsmoor.substack.com/p/pohutukawa...
There's a constant droning in this suburb.
They are dismantling the hills to make level platforms for monochromatic dwellings.
After scraping the soil to expose the clay.
After uprooting the grasses & wild weedy plants.
After removing the forests.
Oh, to return to the trees, the droning of bees /|\
They are dismantling the hills to make level platforms for monochromatic dwellings.
After scraping the soil to expose the clay.
After uprooting the grasses & wild weedy plants.
After removing the forests.
Oh, to return to the trees, the droning of bees /|\
January 23, 2025 at 10:55 PM
There's a constant droning in this suburb.
They are dismantling the hills to make level platforms for monochromatic dwellings.
After scraping the soil to expose the clay.
After uprooting the grasses & wild weedy plants.
After removing the forests.
Oh, to return to the trees, the droning of bees /|\
They are dismantling the hills to make level platforms for monochromatic dwellings.
After scraping the soil to expose the clay.
After uprooting the grasses & wild weedy plants.
After removing the forests.
Oh, to return to the trees, the droning of bees /|\
So, we're in the ashes. I ask myself 'what should I DO here?' It's the dying paradigm speaking. Then I want to escape by numbing out. Being present with a dying thing is uncomfortable. We weren't taught how.
For now I'm gonna sit in the ashes. Make ash art and poems. Dance with blackened feet. /|\
For now I'm gonna sit in the ashes. Make ash art and poems. Dance with blackened feet. /|\
January 22, 2025 at 9:04 PM
So, we're in the ashes. I ask myself 'what should I DO here?' It's the dying paradigm speaking. Then I want to escape by numbing out. Being present with a dying thing is uncomfortable. We weren't taught how.
For now I'm gonna sit in the ashes. Make ash art and poems. Dance with blackened feet. /|\
For now I'm gonna sit in the ashes. Make ash art and poems. Dance with blackened feet. /|\
Except for the odd meteor, satellite, etc, nothing on earth has ever left or arrived.
Every time I drink water, I am consuming my ancestors, the trees they loved, the animals and plants, rocks and rivers who were their contemporaries.
What does this make thirst? Swimming? Riparian planting? /|\
Every time I drink water, I am consuming my ancestors, the trees they loved, the animals and plants, rocks and rivers who were their contemporaries.
What does this make thirst? Swimming? Riparian planting? /|\
January 21, 2025 at 9:56 PM
Except for the odd meteor, satellite, etc, nothing on earth has ever left or arrived.
Every time I drink water, I am consuming my ancestors, the trees they loved, the animals and plants, rocks and rivers who were their contemporaries.
What does this make thirst? Swimming? Riparian planting? /|\
Every time I drink water, I am consuming my ancestors, the trees they loved, the animals and plants, rocks and rivers who were their contemporaries.
What does this make thirst? Swimming? Riparian planting? /|\
Remember during these fraught times, your neighbours may have what you need. Sit with elders and ask them about the activism of their times. Sit with initiated adults and ask them to teach you survival skills. Ask youth about hope. Ask children to play. Before we had books, we had each other.
January 21, 2025 at 4:13 AM
Remember during these fraught times, your neighbours may have what you need. Sit with elders and ask them about the activism of their times. Sit with initiated adults and ask them to teach you survival skills. Ask youth about hope. Ask children to play. Before we had books, we had each other.
I should add, when I say "systems for this liminal time", I mean they are a bridge to true belonging with community and our more-than-human world. Many are based on indigenous wisdom which has been practiced for aeons. They are useful while we learn, and one day may need composting too.
Hey! This is a great list for where to start with dismantling the broken system we all live in. They all should be free or low-cost to access! It’s almost a guarantee your town or city will have one of these things, if not many or all.
learning about systems for this liminal time (like timebanks, repair cafes, tool & seed libraries, community gardens, local markets, community seasonal celebrations, red tents & sharing circles, community sewing spaces, groups keeping heritage crafts & skills alive, moneyless trade etc)
January 20, 2025 at 11:43 PM
I should add, when I say "systems for this liminal time", I mean they are a bridge to true belonging with community and our more-than-human world. Many are based on indigenous wisdom which has been practiced for aeons. They are useful while we learn, and one day may need composting too.
A fire in the suburbs & the yearning for story and connection /|\
January 20, 2025 at 9:48 PM
A fire in the suburbs & the yearning for story and connection /|\
January 20, 2025 at 9:42 PM
Being here is surreal cuz 5 years ago when I was on twitter, I was the funny fandom shitposter thirsty for validation, and now it seems I just want to post about the dismantling of my psyche in tandem with the world as we've known it, and the subsequent personal and collective existential crisis.
January 20, 2025 at 7:26 PM
Being here is surreal cuz 5 years ago when I was on twitter, I was the funny fandom shitposter thirsty for validation, and now it seems I just want to post about the dismantling of my psyche in tandem with the world as we've known it, and the subsequent personal and collective existential crisis.
Three perils of water to a soul are thus:
to wallow in self pity,
to languish in indulgence,
and to lose oneself to nostalgia.
/|\
to wallow in self pity,
to languish in indulgence,
and to lose oneself to nostalgia.
/|\
January 19, 2025 at 8:42 PM
Three perils of water to a soul are thus:
to wallow in self pity,
to languish in indulgence,
and to lose oneself to nostalgia.
/|\
to wallow in self pity,
to languish in indulgence,
and to lose oneself to nostalgia.
/|\
Kia ora fellow druids! I'm an Ovate living on Ngatī Kahu lands in the far north of Aotearoa.
I'm bringing back village-wide seasonal celebrations in my wee community in Pēria. I'd love to connect and share ideas about poetry, art, crafts, & alchemising old folk stories for our times! 🌾 /|\
I'm bringing back village-wide seasonal celebrations in my wee community in Pēria. I'd love to connect and share ideas about poetry, art, crafts, & alchemising old folk stories for our times! 🌾 /|\
January 19, 2025 at 6:55 PM
Kia ora fellow druids! I'm an Ovate living on Ngatī Kahu lands in the far north of Aotearoa.
I'm bringing back village-wide seasonal celebrations in my wee community in Pēria. I'd love to connect and share ideas about poetry, art, crafts, & alchemising old folk stories for our times! 🌾 /|\
I'm bringing back village-wide seasonal celebrations in my wee community in Pēria. I'd love to connect and share ideas about poetry, art, crafts, & alchemising old folk stories for our times! 🌾 /|\
Is there a bare feet to animism pipeline?
January 19, 2025 at 4:48 AM
Is there a bare feet to animism pipeline?
Kia ora, I am an Ovate student of Celtic Druidry living on Ngatī Kahu lands in Aotearoa. My ancestors hail from Dumnonia, Somerset and Ireland.
I am seeking poetry, mystery, meaning, ceremony, play, deep embodied connection, old folk stories alchemised for uncertain times, and a long nap.
#druidry
I am seeking poetry, mystery, meaning, ceremony, play, deep embodied connection, old folk stories alchemised for uncertain times, and a long nap.
#druidry
January 19, 2025 at 4:00 AM
Kia ora, I am an Ovate student of Celtic Druidry living on Ngatī Kahu lands in Aotearoa. My ancestors hail from Dumnonia, Somerset and Ireland.
I am seeking poetry, mystery, meaning, ceremony, play, deep embodied connection, old folk stories alchemised for uncertain times, and a long nap.
#druidry
I am seeking poetry, mystery, meaning, ceremony, play, deep embodied connection, old folk stories alchemised for uncertain times, and a long nap.
#druidry
I sit in the river of creativity. Run long fingers through womb waters. Searching for life.
I will not find it, cannot hold it, until I learn to tend the river. Clears the debris, plant riparian species. Stabilise the banks. Stop fucking pouring dirty dishwater into it.
For fucks sake.
I will not find it, cannot hold it, until I learn to tend the river. Clears the debris, plant riparian species. Stabilise the banks. Stop fucking pouring dirty dishwater into it.
For fucks sake.
January 19, 2025 at 3:51 AM
I sit in the river of creativity. Run long fingers through womb waters. Searching for life.
I will not find it, cannot hold it, until I learn to tend the river. Clears the debris, plant riparian species. Stabilise the banks. Stop fucking pouring dirty dishwater into it.
For fucks sake.
I will not find it, cannot hold it, until I learn to tend the river. Clears the debris, plant riparian species. Stabilise the banks. Stop fucking pouring dirty dishwater into it.
For fucks sake.