Though Summer will not officially be here until 21 June, we have already welcomed our first Monsoon rain of the year. In fact, we were a bit early with a storm coming upon us before 15 June. Unfortunately, I will not be getting out to take many photos this time around, at least not until the season is coming to a close, so I will share some moments from the previous years Monsoon.


With the coming of the yearly rains comes to thoughts of yet another deity of this Place I call home. Monsoon, the Wet Summer as the local tribes have called it, brings with it not only life giving rain, but life itself. Reptiles and amphibians come out of their hiding to eat the vast amounts of insects that appear with the rains. The air is heavy, not only with moisture, but with electricity – you can feel the charge even when the skies are clear.

ei-teph (ay-tehf) is the Goddess of summer rains, the second spring, and floods. ei-dysus (ay-die-suhs) is the God of thunder and lightning, of fires started by lightning strikes, and the consort of ei-teph. They do not appear alone, they are always beside each other. Their passion brings the rains and the storms, and they inspire our ancestors to dance in the clouds and bring us the sounds of their drums and flashes of their fires.


Fires are not uncommong during Monsoon – especially when we have days without rain, but with so much lightning. Many fires are started by people, some unsuspectingly, and others with intent – but there is no life without death, no creation without destruction. The rains always come and help to douse the flames, and in the years to come, ei-teph brings green back to the land.

I have never been one for Deities – they feel too fantastical. But I also understand the desire to put a name to the energies that surround us. I know that, with science and modern technology, we can understand the things that our ancestors could not – but Deities are not only about putting a name to things so we can understand them, but Deities are a way for us to connect, in a deeper way, to the energies around us. We can have all the scientific knowledge in the world, but there will always be a part of us that is awe-struck by the rolling clouds, the cracks of lightning and booms of thunder, the waves of flood waters, and the intense greenery that springs forth each year in an otherwise arid valley.

I may not regularly honour the deities I name here as their own entities, but that is not to say that I do not honour them at all. My primary Deity is the Great Spirit, that which is within and around all of us – those aspects of this Place that I choose to name are only facets of Spirit, the parts that make up the whole.



The rain is so cleansing. Even if you do not step out and feel it on your skin, the sounds can wash away the things within our minds that we wish to be rid of. Sit for a moment and listen to the rain hitting the ground, the leaves, the roof of your house or car, and just be still. Watch it fall. Count the drops. Centre yourself, mind and body and spirit, and connect for a moment with the forces that surround you in your Place, even if there is no rain.

Summer, for me and the rest of the desert, is about Birth and Life and Cleansing. The skies wash everything clean, and leave behind a sort of Newness that we desert dwellers pine for every year.


☽ ✰ ☾

aequoris // update

I have been writing tirelessly recently, nearly every day, and I am so proud to say that I am almost half finished with the story. It has, surprisingly, stayed close to the original concept (which isn’t too common with my tales, especially since I am what is called a “pantster”). My characters are moving at a lovely pace, and though I have had some trouble here and there, I am so happy with it so far. I will try and share another snippet soon.

☽ ✰ ☾

may 2018 // recap

May was a silent month, in many aspects. I painted, here and there, but spent much of the month resting. I wish I had more to write, I wish I had more to say, but with a looming darkness, I fear that my words are not coming and my camera remains mostly unused, collecting dust.

Please, do not fret, I will share more of my writing as it comes, and photos as I take them. Especially those of my paintings, which you can always check on over at VictoriaEmslieArt.

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ula’s song


Never love the sea.
The waves rise with the misty moon,
The shore quietly desires the waters,
The wind travels with stormy faith
Over the white-caps and billowing swells,

Where is the warm breeze?
That which grows like a small sun
Over the seashells and shore.
Ah, to feel the cool waters
Swiftly rising and falling over the sands.

Faith is a cold storm;
Rough waves swiftly pull the stormy silver clouds.
Rain falls like tears on the shore
And the old moon calmly leads the misty breeze.
Travel silently like the soaring gull
And rise to meet the azure tides.

a e q u o r i s // primary work in progress

image found:

hidden forest

originally written 4 july 2017

dei-fros (day-froes) is the God of Hidden Forests. You will not find him listed under any pantheon, nor in any mythological texts. He has no specific culture, and I would assume appears in many different ways to the different people he comes in contact with. He is wild and feral and incredibly wary – like the deer that crosses our paths on deserted mountain roads, or the puma watching from under the brush on the ledge above us; he is silent and hidden within the trees, so difficult to see yet so easy to feel.


Arizona is covered in little oases and hidden forests protected by Native spirits with their own cultural meanings and names. Most visitors to this rusty gold landscape come to see the red rocks and the cacti and the desert fauna, but they gloss over the true miracles that appear deep in the mountains, high above the dust and stone. Perhaps this is because they do not venture into the mountains, or perhaps it is because they are so used to the green in their own Place that, for a moment, they forget where they truly are.

Our Gods are unlike any others. They roam the desert, hide in the crags above cities, fall from the skies in flashes of lightning and heavy rain, flow over the dry earth in flash floods. They are the fires that rage before Monsoon, they are the icy Winter mornings that find us catching our breath upon stepping out of our warm homes.

They have many names and many faces and appear differently to all of those who open their minds to their call. Not everyone experiences the Gods gentle touch on their hearts, but those that do will forever be open to their songs and dances and whispers.

☽ ✰ ☾