I'm an olde crone who lives in the woods; you will find it hard to find me.
My home is a tree, next to a rock; mossy and twiggy and leafy.
I craft all day and spin all night, retrieving dreams and visions.
I paint them to life and then set them free, to create their own apparitions
I hope they will sing of the land and the trees and of all the Fae within.
And act as a muse to ignite open hearts with the stillness in order to listen.