This week I completed the last of my three ceremonial necklaces, made from upcycled beads, to wear for the High Seat ceremony at the forthcoming Clover Mead weekend in July.
I’ve been wearing the glass beads out and have been delighted to receive many compliments. I think I’ve found a new craft practice to add to my box. Glass beads were coveted in ancient times, and are often found as grave goods in Viking, Anglo-Saxon and Roman burials across the UK.
So now I have three necklaces, three silver rings, three protective talismans: nine in total. The next item to pull together is a headress with veil, and I’m already assembling the materials. My role as the Volva, or Seer for this High Seat is being guided intuitively through meditations, sound journeys and dance, with often the voice of Freyja overseeing what I create.
This Norse Goddess loves jewellery and beautiful things, especially her necklace Brisingamen, which features in the Poetic Edda. After finishing my beadwork, I wrote this poem, or rather it wrote itself, in the voice of Freyja, talking about the creation of Brisingamen. I used an AI-enabled animation tool to create a design for the necklace based on the poem. I would love to have someone make it for me for my next ‘big’ birthday in a couple of years. However, the exchange would have to be carefully negotiated!
Brisingamen
What would you give for my necklace, Brisingamen?
Strung with the jewels of the world, of the earth,
the deep mountains, the flowing rivers;
emeralds from Colombia, opals from Australia,
lapis lazuli from Afghanistan, amber from the Baltic,
diamonds from Africa, rose quartz from Madagascar,
rubies from Myanmar, labradorite from Canada,
jade from China.
The world’s gems woven into filigree strands
of gold and silver, as fine as a spider’s silk,
yet stronger than iron ore.
It was the blacksmith-jewellers from the dark mountain
that forged and alchemized Brisingamen to life.
Their bellows smelted metal into liquid life-force.
Nimble hands cut and polished these precious stones.
Brisingamen, Brisingamen, wrought for me.
They knew before they even began,
these four artisans were making a necklace fit for a goddess.
A Vanir amongst the Aesir.
They knew there had to be an exchange:
the transmutation of lust and longing into gold;
the transmutation of energy,
of fire and forge,
of water and steam,
of creation — molten life itself.
The exchange was my life-force merging with theirs,
each in turn, in ecstasy,
through dance, through ritual, through sweat and toil.
Of course, I chose this exchange,
for it is in my nature
free and wild, strong and potent.
I know what I want, and I willingly give
my jewels in exchange for my jewels.
Brisingamen is infused with my seiðr.
I taught Odin how to work with magic,
and Brisingamen is made for me.
I wear her naked, I wear her whole,
and she sparkles as the gods themselves radiate.
She brings me so much joy.
My Brisingamen.
Tell me:
What would you give to have star-collar, throat-fire
for one night around your neck?
Tell me.
Loki desired my jewels so much he stole them.
Loki always wants what isn’t his.
He thieves, he lies, he tricks,
he shape-shifts to take possession.
But not this time.
He shall not have my necklace,
even if he creeps into my bedchamber to take her,
before shape-shifting into a seal
and plunging into the deepest, coldest waters.
Brisingamen was returned to me by my beloved Heimdall.
Beauty that you are,
with all the stars reflected,
with all the colours of the earth connected within your gems.
Brisingamen sing, Brisingamen call to me
when you kiss my skin,
when you touch my throat
with your threads of gold and silver.
Beads of the day-moon, beads of the night-sun
shine upon those who gaze into my eyes and move my heart.
The Goddess of Love.
For I am Freyja.
The magic of Brisingamen is mine.
Hail Freyja!
With lots of love
Serena xxx
