What do you offer? While I very much like candles and incense, I’m conscious every time I strike a match that fire is part of the problem at the moment. Humans need to burn less, and burning things as an act of reverence or prayer makes me deeply uneasy. But, what do you do with an altar if you aren’t burning things?
I’ve been experimenting with having an altar space for some months now, and trying to figure out how to do that in a way that makes sense to me. I’m interested in the way altars can function as spiritual instillations – I see plenty of photos online of the sacredness people create by making beauty. Changing what’s on an altar to reflect the season, or a festival, or a specific focus can clearly be a lovely thing to do.
I’m short of space. There is nowhere I can keep things that could be on the altar – either it lives there or it doesn’t. I do bring in seasonal finds, but that’s occasional and it happens when it does. I’ve tried liquid offerings, but I can’t leave them out – I’m clumsy and bump into things, and also there is a cat who at some point is going to get himself to the top of the bookcase.
I’m currently experimenting with the idea of making art for the altar. It’s something I can do at need, for whatever reason occurs to me. I can use it to reflect seasons and festivals. It is an offering of time and care, and it means trying to make something of beauty. It’s a lot cheaper than buying things to put on the altar, and paper doesn’t take much storing.
My first serious attempt at this was a set of three roses for Valentine’s Day. I’m not much into the hetronormative romance as performance. I don’t like commercialism around this day or any of the other social festivals. But, I also had a lot of other things going on and I wanted to honour the idea of love, and this seemed like a way to do it.
February 17th, 2021 at 10:55 pm
I think, as you often seem to do, you’ve hit on the solution, that being ephemeral art. When I absolutely must get out of my head for a little while, I go outside. (I’m supremely lucky; I can go outside whenever I want, even in a pandemic.) But even if I didn’t live on several acres of beautiful land, I would go outside to stretch the tired mind muscles, looking for something that I could borrow for a while, working it/them into something that says something to, of, or even with nothing to do with me, but somehow feeds the spirit. Then, when it’s time to change, it goes back out side to join its compatriots in the world. Well done!
February 18th, 2021 at 8:01 am
That sounds like the sort of direction I want to move in!