Fairies
Fairies are traditionally beings that straddle between worlds, through cracks, doorways and divisions of time. They lie in those slips of space and time that we do not look, between daylight and evening, under mounds or between slips of the eye. When they enter upon our world, they often bring the element of unpredictability with them. They are the carriers of a different quasi-human, yet not quite human viewpoint. In our human realm, I like to think of them as bringers of change. They bring an element of play and communion with the elements, but they also habour a potential darkness within the undersides of the souls.
"I often feel strange about answering specific questions about myself, even though I certainly will attempt to do so. For example : Name one trait which describes you… I feel as sentient beings we are so complex in our thoughts, actions, conclusions our varied means of going through a thought process that I often can’t clearly pin down a clear answer.
I would have to say, that the wind carries me, the air caresses me, the earth grounds me, the thunderstorm energizes me, the rain quenches my thirst, the storm cloud allows me well earned rest. The light scatters joy across me and through me. I flutter hidden beneath woodland canopies. The quaking of the earth mirrors my despair, my wrath for the thoughtlessness of misuse. Nothing can express my gratitude for a bubbling brook, and for the stillness of the rock, its patience as everything around it changes. Like the mist, I am hard to pin down, a remnant of fairy lore, hidden, seen, lost, recognized, misunderstood. A Selkie of Ireland, a child of Oberon, a banshee, a subject to Titania. I whisper across a world forced into perfect lines. I belong to Titania, Queen of the fairies and to Gaïa who holds me close. I am a fairy being, undefined, changing, ever morphing as the world around me does." Eva Gerakis
Lameeah
Creatures of magic are as varied and whimsical as the stars in the sky. Their habits are defined by local cultural and religious beliefs. We are taken from the spirits of the elements roaming across indigenous America, to the Old Ones in Ireland, to the Dream worlds of Australian natives and to many others yet. In recent years, it has even become customary for children to hunt Christmas elves who then play tricks on children until December 25th. This foray into fairy lore will take us to Central Greece’s mountains in the Agrafa, to the Koutsopapoulos, a little village nestled by swaths of untouched forests. Here, beneath the canopies of the pine, fir and chestnut trees where long ago there roamed the Titans high above them followed by the children of Zeus and the dryads, we can now find remnants of restless beings, roaming around the edges of contemporary Religion, in a place where the church could not wipe out popular belief.
Sitting on my Grandmama’s lap, I learned about playful woodland sprites who roamed across beams of sunlight. I learned as well about small elflings three apples high with pointy ears, upturned noses and cheerful smiles stretching across their lips. I was also told about the Lameeah whose mournful laments echo out of the depths of the surrounding forests. This is no Arwen Evenstar from Middle Earth with moon-kissed skin and hair as dark as a river at night. This lady of the night was born from sorrow and she is bound by it to the land. Her black eyes glint malevolently through her tangled hair; her hair is as dark as the shadows found deep in the recesses of the earth and her skin is pale, barely concealing her inhuman thinness. It is said that she had lost her loved ones long ago, so long ago that she can no longer recall their features, the smell of their hair, or the memory of their laughter. She is thus bound to roam the land in search of them in the dead of night, her metal teeth gnashing as she prowls. As I sat listening to my Grandmother weave her tale, I was cautioned not to wander out at night, for Lameeah would find me as she roamed the ravines surrounding the house and she would tear me to pieces with her metal teeth.
I often wondered how she had come to lose her loved ones; even oftener I wondered why she would even want to find me and tear me up. I was convinced all Lameeah really needed was someone to play with and weave flowers through her hair. Perhaps she needs to find the moon who comes to rest in the arms of the mountains at night, and they would both keep each other company and forget all their troubles.
Perhaps next time I will dwell on the moon or the tree of life which keeps the earth from toppling. For now, Lameeah wanders on, searching as she wails her grief.
Litsa G.
