Lothlorien Artistry Includes Light AND Dark

Here goes, what may be the final post on Lothlorien. Mostly focused on photos expressing the artistry of the hundreds of folks that have flowed and continue to flow through this amazing 50-acre (within another 100-acre protected forest) quasi- “settlement” since it began, 43 years ago.

BTW: Did I already say that this Nature Sanctuary has 500 members, all of whom pay $50/year for the privilege of coming to festivities, free Saturday evening dinners all year long, camping getaways, and so on? $50 x 500: this is the way way Lothlorien can keep going in today’s monetized matrix.

I asked my tour guide Danielle if there are any rules about who can and can’t come. And yes, over the years their Council has had to adjust their mostly open door policy in the interest of safety and security, and to discourage freeloaders.

Two days ago, I featured a glorious unfinished painting.  So, to continue:

But before I begin, notice that that some of the statues have a “dark” cast to them. No stranger to darkness myself, in fact, knowing full well, both due to varied experiences of a long lifetime, and my recognition that the 3D world always works to dynamically include and balance the opposites  .  . . even so, some of these artistic expressions make me, my mostly, at this point, determinedly light-filled being . . . SHUDDER.

But then, that’s life. As my own mother (of eight children) used to say, “It takes all kinds.”

I’m reminded of my first visit, for last Friday’s dinner, when I found myself engaged in a fascinating conversation with an intense, serious man in his 40s (unfortunately, he couldn’t return the next day) on the whole business of “projection.” How we project into the world the denied parts of ourselves. How what we “hate” actually serves to mirror what we try to ignore within our own psyches.

And then, how, once we take back the projection, and process it, we can, as I put it, bending over low and dramatically, “bow to our honorable opponent.”

We both chuckled. Yes. Full of gratitude, for both the lesson learned (again!), and for the one who “triggered” the learning.

This interchange arose when he told me that he absolutely loves coming to Lothlorien for festivities, but that at first, he was taken aback. That he expected this “intentional community” to be like others he’s been involved with, “highly spiritual,” (i.e., light-filled). But no; it includes, as he put it, all sorts of people. 

In other words, light and dark. Were we not to allow, and even, like Lothlorien, encourage this dynamic bifurcation, and the need to constantly choose, we would have no free will! Instead, we would each be deterministically slotted into a tiny enclosed silo with no room to grow.

So here you go!

Statues, Altars, Gardens

Obviously, linguistically categorizing such an amazing proliferation of memories as stored and reflected into material extrusions via humanity’s fertile right-brain/heart connection with the natural world — is an absurd task, done by my oh so logical left brain. Oh well! Here are a few statues.

First, the one, atop an altar, at the entrance to their smallish vegetable garden.

Love this one!

This next one makes me shudder . . .

Then there’s the statue that they use as a Christmas tree, for gifts, during holiday festivities. I’d remove the head . . . but then, without the head, it’s just a boring ol’ Christmas tree!

Here’s a sweet little current autumnal garden.

Very full altar!

What’s this? Oldish, decaying. Meant to be an altar, a shrine?

Decaying altar with skull . . .

Oh, the many stories these altars could tell!

Loved this teensy altar! And notice “Wayne’s World” behind it — referring, as I recall, to yet another cleared space, behind the sign..

Humor always present.

Hmmm . . . Non est? Don’t exist?

These are, obviously, just a sampling. I could go on to include more altars, all the photos of the handmade signs at the entrances of all the specialized clearings in the woods — the Children’s Circle, the Lightning Shrine, the Shaman’s Circle — and so on, but I think you get the gist.

Truly a magical place. And I don’t say that lightly, but very intentionally. Thank you, Danielle, and your second annual “Intention Convention” for a truly transformative, and memory-invoking weekend.