The ancient Celts celebrated the beginning and ending of the year at Samhain (Sah-win) on 1st November each year. It is the most powerful time of the year, when crossing the veil between this world and the otherworld takes us yet deeper into the mysteries of the unknown; of our souls. If we have journeyed though the year with care and compassion, we celebrate its ending as transformed beings, ready to begin again.

The Celts celebrated the ending and the beginning of the year at Samhain (Sah-win) on the evening before the 1st November each year. On the even of Samhain the veil between this world and the Otherworld thins to a most fragile weave; a powerful time for journeying into the unknown. It marks a movement inwards; a time to welcome the coming darkness of winter and the spiritual journey of withdrawing; to the self. The winter months are under the rulership of Cailleach, the old woman of winter. In various Celtic traditions she is believed to live near to lochs and mountains. In Scotland she is known as Vera the spiky one.

The Winter Solstice marks the depths of darkness: the shortest day and the longest night. At the same time as holding us in the innermost depths of unknowingness, it also heralds the rebirth of light and an intuitive understanding of self. Solstice in Latin is solstitium, meaning Sun Stand Still and for three days the sun appears to rise and set in the same position in the sky before once again beginning it gradual journey north. From The Winter Solstice, onwards through the year, the sun will appear higher and higher in the sky until it comes to another standstill – the Summer Solstice. Now is the time to embrace our own inner darkness as a place where symbolic death and decay, of putrefaction and composting, is a necessary part of birth and emergence: It is a time to celebrate intuition, feeling, compassion and unconscious connections with others. It is a time of darkness and renewal.

The Summer Solstice celebrates the culmination of the sun’s power as the sun reaches its highest position in the sky, after which it appears to stand still in the skies before beginning its descent once more.  When the sun is at its fullest, and the days are at their longest, the dark part of the year fades to such an extent that it seems momentarily absent.  At the very moment the Sun reaches its fullness, the seeds of winter emerge: brightness and darkness ever interlinked.

The Summer Solstice marks the mid-point of the growing season; halfway between planting and harvesting. The air between earth and sky, full of life-giving properties, receives special attention at this time of year. Traditionally, hill-top bonfires were lit in honour of Áine, the Celtic goddess of summer, wealth, love and fertility, who was born from the sea. Smoke and ashes from these sacred fires were thought to protect the crops until harvest time.

My articulation of The Nine Calendrical Transition Points are inspired by alchemical encounters towards self-realisation and by rituals and myths that mark changes in the seasons and the subsequent impact on everyday and spiritual life.

In particular, I work with the solstices and equinoxes (quarter days) and the Celtic fire festivals (cross quarter days) celebrated in November, February, May and August. I add an additional point at Samhain (November) to accommodate the ending of one cycle and the beginning of another.

For me, these nine transition points seem to align with the painting/creative process itself, which, to my understanding, involves the psyche’s transformative unfolding. By psyche, I mean the web of our being that flows between the deepest aspects of self, other, cosmos and the processes of becoming conscious of these depths.

By giving attention to the properties of each of the nine calendrical transition points as they emerge in real time in the external world, I find an unparalleled opportunity to simultaneously explore equivalent internal relations and transformations. I’m interested in how all of this manifests itself in painting and other creative activities.