This is a ritual to be enacted alone or with others on the eve of the Autumn Equinox. It uses natural ink extracted from the fruits of blackberry plants and a sheet of paper with two squares; one placed above the other.

Folklore advises that blackberries not be eaten after 29th September because they have the ‘dragon’ in them. For this reason, I suggest collecting the plump blackberries in August, whilst the dragon canters elsewhere, and making the ink immediately (although they can frozen and the ink made at a later date). Blackberries’ essential presence in this ritual signals a reclamation of the wholeness of darkness in its deep magenta fullness; in its blackness.

At the Autumn Equinox, just as at the Spring Equinox, night and day are balanced: almost equal in length. The equinoxes are times when we experience the two full encounters between the symbolic figures of darkness and brightness. The two squares represent the relationship in a moment of balance: the darkness sits within the bottom square and the brightness within the upper square. At the Autumn Equinox the darkness begins its cyclical transformation. By following the darkness through the coming months we participate in the active making of our souls. In witnessing its nourishment and transformation we give ourselves the opportunity to anticipate and fully embody the movement of life.

Six weeks before the Autumn Equinox: Collect blackberries and extract the juice from the blackberries to make a natural ink.

Two days before the Autumn Equinox: Draw two squares on a piece of paper and position one square above the other.

On the eve of the Autumn Equinox: Take your ink, paper and paintbrush out into the world. If the world is not open to you at the moment, you can move around your home. Imagine the brightness that emerged at the Spring Equinox, and remember its journey from pale silver yellow through exaggerated Summer heights to its current golden glow. Paint it in and around the upper square. Image the darkness that has waited patiently these last months. Remember its matter and its form of last year and anticipate its potential: its coming transformation. Paint it in and around the lower square. Invisible traces of the mutual love between darkness and brightness might permeate your own matter; transforming it.

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.