"The old Shaman lingered for a while at the burnt iron pot with closed eyes as if taking in all the scents of roots, rabbit's meat, herbs. Looking down - fumes clouding his vision - he raised a large wooden spoon and grabbed a steaming onion into his claw-like bony hand. With a smile bending the many lines of age on his leathered face, he started peeling off the outer layer.
'You find the nature of life in all things. If understanding the nature of things is good medicine, then we must investigate. You peel off layers to reach the core' With surprizingly nimble fingers the Shaman peeled another layer off - tossing the pieces of onion to a group of hens. As the birds happily foraged the ground for the remains the Shaman continued speaking with a mesmerizing voice.
'But I must be careful to understand it all. If I go straight for the center, I will not get what lies beyond.' The Shaman put his finger straight through the remainding layers of the soft onion squashing it nearly in half. 'What happens then?' The teenager asked eager to learn more.
'You have a mess'
The old Shaman chuckled softly - a sound that the teenager thought resembled a growl."
Dedicated to my friends in Fearghal.
Album art by Johanna Larsson. All rights reserved.
credits
from
Nordborg,
released 12 April 2010
Thomas Ankjer Vedel