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Maker Mother

In Waternish, near the Fairy Bridge, the river cuts through a glen leading into a gorge and onto the sea, a mound stands. The remnants of a stone circle, a possible burial chamber, and what was once a temple to an ancient Goddess of the waters. A pre-christian deity dubbed Annaitis whose followers were believed to wash idols of in the current.

'This name of Annait or Annat is found all over Scotland. It has been interpreted as meaning the ‘Water-place’ from Celtic ‘An’ = water, because many are near water. Others suggest ‘Ann’ = a circle (Celtic) and claim that most Annats are near standing stones. The most-favoured derivation seems to be from Ann, the Irish mother of the Gods, and those who hold this view claim that the Annats are always near a revered spot, where either a mother-church or the cell of a patron saint once stood. Probably Annat does, in fact, come from an older, pre-Celtic tongue, and belongs to an older people whose ancient worship it may well commemorate. The curious shape of the Waternish Temple of Anaitis and its survival make it seem likely that it was something of importance in its day, built with more than usual care and skill. Perhaps the Temple tradition is correct – but whose, if so, and to what gods?' ('Skye: The Island and Its Legends by Otta F. Swire 1961)

'... the Temple of Anaitis can still be found and there is a tradition that this once great temple was the centre of the ancient pagan faith of Skye...' ('The Inner Hebrides and their Legends by Otta F. Swire 1964)

'Many of the ‘Annats’ are claimed-and it is believed correctly-as pre-Christian.. The learned Rev. Dr. Macqueen, of Skye, also claimed the ‘Annats’ as pre-Christian, and maintained the Gaelic meaning as ‘The Water Place’.. This worship, as is generally known, came from the East, and was there among the Phoenicians, who worshipped Baal and other gods.' (Place-Names of Skye by Alexander Forbes 1923)

Fairy Raid

Fairy Raid

'At Ruig, at the foot of the Storr Rock, in Skye, at the time it was occupied by small farmers (sixteen in number), all the horses on the farm, numbering as many as a hundred, were seen ridden by the Fairies, sitting with their faces to the tail, on Hallowmas night. The shore line of the farm consists of frightful precipices, and the horses, as if very madness (an cuthach dearg) had taken possession of them, went off at their utmost speed towards the shore. Every one thought they would be lost, but no harm arose after all from the stampede.' (147)

Superstitions of the Highlands & Islands of Scotland Collected (entirely from Oral Sources) by John Gregorson Campbell, Minister of Tiree (1900)

Baobhan-Sìth

In the deep woods, as the sun sets, the Baobhan-Sìth stir from disturbed cairns and forgotten graves. Horns and dog barks travel on the air with the smell of blood. A hunting party approaches and is invited to dance by a fireside. Accepting, the hunters are brought to the brink of collapse by the mother of all jigs, stumbling in the tread of deer hooves beneath green dresses as fingernails and teeth lengthen. By then, it is too late. The Baobhan-Sìth drain them, and the hunters are fed to the soil.

The Boobrie Den

Shapeshifts feed in a hidden cove, shedding the skins of seabirds, bulls, farm hands, and horses. They gather after centuries of luring the unsuspecting to a watery grave for sustenance and amusement. From loch and coast way, they have tread water, calling to each other with the voices of their victims, all the while their forms changing with the seasons to better sate an endless appetite.

Gruagach

'Gruagach, i.e. long haired one from, gruag, a wig, is a common Gaelic name for a maiden, a young woman, [...] In parts of Skye, however, the fold-frequenting gruagach is a tall young man with long yellow hair in the attire of a gentleman of a bygone period, having a little switch (slatag) in his hand, and with a white breast as if he wore a frilled shirt [...] This gruagach was attentive to the herds and kept them from the rocks. He frequented certain places in the fields where the cattle were. A gruagach was to be found in every gentleman's fold (buaile), and, like the glaistig, milk had to be set apart for him every evening in a hollow in a particular stone called clach na gruagaich ('the gruagach stone')...'

- This illustration of a Long Haired One protecting a calf from abuse is inspired by the above writing of folklorist John Gregorson Campbell in 1900 (from 'Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland') quoted in Atlas Arts Making Publics Press deeply inspiring publication ùir-sgeul by Eilidh Mackenzie as part of her incredible recent exhibition of the same name at the Skye and Lochalsh Archive Centre.

Freedom Dance

Countless atrocities are broadcast by the minute and are met with indifference and banknotes. Our government and media are complicit in genocide and must be held to account. We see them now, and so will history. End the starvation. End the murder. End the occupation.

Free Palestine. Free speech. Free the arts.

Palestine's Dabke, music, textiles, stories and agriculture stand, move, and soar in defiance of systemic erasure.

It is a privilege to create, for my loved ones and I to live and do so in safety. I hope this image can help those who need our support, our ears, and voices the most right now. It is available to purchase on my store. Every penny raised will go to MAP (Medical Aid for Palestinians) who are saving lives in unimaginable conditions designed by the Israeli occupation. This is about action and collective responsibility. I urge you to donate if you can.

Love and well wishes, Free Palestine.

Crotal

'a russet-coloured dye obtained from the lichen on rocks. Because crotal was thought always to be seeking its way back to the rocks it was believed that anyone venturing out to sea in crotal-dyed clothes would sink like a stone if he fell overboard...' - 'Skye' by Derek Cooper. An archive image of the lichen being collected from the shore inspired this image, though special spoons were used rather than blades, though the sea is seldom gentle in reclaiming its own.

Magic Abound in the Belly of the Earth

In the fading Cailleach Bheurra, Brìdghe slowly stirs with the promise of Spring. 'Come Brìdghe, come Brìdghe, make your bed,' dancers with linens sing round cradle and effigy of straw, shell, rush, wool, and reed. Imbolc (meaning: 'in the womb') marks the light slowly returning, so time to shake the house! Put on a bassy banger to wake the neighbours and the dead, turn the lights off, serenade a ewe, set fire to something, eat too much cheese. Clear the old, welcome the new, fan away past smoke and rave to new possibilities.

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