The Call of the Gypsy Camp

The night calls to me.
To be out of this lovely room.
Into the wild darkness
under a crescent moon.

The breeze catches my nightgown.
I float upward into the clouds.
I hear voices and drums.
a flicker of firelight.

I hover near a campsite.
I see them…
Gathered around, telling stories
and mysteries of forgotten times.

I settle on a nearby branch,
to listen.
They call to the shining ones.
A voice answers on the wind.

Here and now is revealed.
The present is the time to act.
I watch sacred rites
and hear ancient words.

There is an ornate bell.
The old one,
rings its mellow pitch.
The fire blurs …


I wake in my bed.
What a strange dream.
And there, on the nightstand
the brass bell gently burnished
from much handling.

I take it in my hands.
And see a carved word, Diana.
A crescent moon design
weaves in and out intricately.

And then I remember,
The Gypsies.
The ones who remember
The Moon Goddess.

by EternallyLuna

Gypsy Camp

Fergus and the Bountiful Farmer G.Kavanagh
Vagabond Song by Gail Kavanagh
Black Sadie by Bobbie Fetterly
Story of Olde faucon of Sakin'el
For my Gypsy Friends by faucon of Sakine'l
Vagabond Tale by faucon of Sakin'el
The Gypsy Camp by Carol Abel
The Crossroads Dance by Gail Kavanagh
Old Traveller Woman by Gail kavanagh
A Night in the Gypsy Camp A. Roman Roman
Blind Murty and his Dog Roisin by Gail Kanvanagh
Dancing from the Soul by Shari Vogt
The Baker's Boy by Gail Kavanagh
The Dookerer by Gail Kavanagh
A Harpist by Edwina Peterson Cross
Tea and Tarot by Karen Roberts
A Song for the Gypsy Chief Gail Kavanagh
Palm Reading by Karen Roberts
Watch out for Mullo by Gail Kavanagh
A Song for the Gypsy Chief Megan Warren
The Gusari by faucon of Sakin'el

 

 

 

December 5 2005

Welcome to the Romany Camp.
presented by Gail Kavanagh

TRAVELLER'S HEAVEN

We do not dream
Like the Settled People.
We dream of rolling hills
The perfect tober
Where fish fill the rivers
The grass is always soft underfoot
And the weather is always mild.
There is no end to the storytelling
The company is good
Around the campfire.
Travellers dream
Of shelter and comfort
Not the heavenly mansions
Of the Settled People.

Image: Lacken Millhouse & Gardens, County Cavan


Welcome to the Gypsy Camp

Romany Trails

The Romany (or Rom) is a world wide nomadic group of people with a defined culture and language. No one is sure of the exact numbers, but there are estimated to be 12 million Rom across the globe. The Romany people are believed to have originated in India, and began wandering 1000 years ago.

The Romanies are known by many different names in different countries – Gitanos in Spain, Tzigane in Eastern Europe, the Nawwar in the Middle East. They are also known as Gypsies, from a long held belief that they originally came from Egypt. But like many other tribal cultures, their own name for themselves, Rom, means simple `the people’. In Ireland, where I was born, nomadic people are known as `travellers’. This name encompasses Rom, tinkers, and circus and fairground people (to which group I belong).

At the Gypsy Camp in Lemuria, we have created the earthly incarnation of the Romany Heaven – not much different from this life really, but a place where there is always a good `tober’ (campground), where wild food is easily gathered, and where there is no persecution or polluted streams.

The Rom believe the nomadic life is the only way to live, in spite of its hardships. Ownership, except of one’s varda (caravan) and maybe a fiddle or a flute, is not regarded as more important than family, friends and freedom. The Gypsy Camp is where Silk Road travellers celebrate creative freedom, but there are many ways to nourish the Gypsy in your soul.

Activities

1. Wear something colourful: I have a jacket that I bought for three dollars at Brisbane Chinatown. It’s a completely whacky garment, green, blue and purple and trimmed with lace. It has huge pockets into which I can fit pencils, paints, a sketchpad – I call it my Mad Old Lady Artist jacket and when I put it on I effectively remove myself from any association with the mundane world. I have permission to simply create and not worry about clocks, deadlines or daily cares. Dress like a Gypsy and you can feel like one.

2. Create your Gypsy hideaway. Pamela Stevenson bought her husband Billy Connelly a gypsy caravan so he could hide away and write his scripts in peace. Gypsy caravans are snug, creative little nests where everything is usually handmade. Even if you are not the crafty type, cosy up your art corner with a colourful crochet rug, bright cushions and flowers.

3. Excite your imagination with a pack of tarot cards or a crystal ball. Gypsies pack up and move on at a moment’s notice. Give yourself permission to be a gypsy and let your imagination wander far and wide. Learn about new places and people so you can bring them into your art, pack up your notebooks and pencils at a moment’s notice and go somewhere you haven’t been before.

4. Live like a Gypsy without leaving home:

Brew some gypsy tea
Hang your washing over lavender bushes to dry on sunny days in your garden.
Dance to wild gypsy music.
Fall in love with the Gypsy Wizard, a magnificent stallion that can take your wandering soul anywhere.
Learn how to weave your own basket to hold your art supplies,
Make a flute
and learn to play simple tunes.
Make and furnish a miniature gypsy caravan
Camp out in the garden one night with some friends and tell ghost stories around the campfire.