OK, I confess. I did actually take this picture with the title words resounding on my lips at the time. I grew up with Eric and Ernie and their humour.
In all honesty, I can’t remember much about this urn, beyond that it’s over two thousand years old and is Greek. I do remember that I was blown away by the sheer size. Others like this one were used as coffins, but I am not sure if this one was; I struggle to imagine the funeral procession lugging along something that looks like it’s intended for the wake afterwards!
Anyway, it was really rather magnificent.
The picture above is from an exhibition at the British Museum late last year. The drum is that of a sixteenth century Sami shaman, and is made of a birch bowl carved from one piece with a reindeer hide stretched over it. The paintings on it are thought to be a record of some of the journeys into the Otherworld made by the shaman.
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end when I walked into the exhibition. This drum had been sung to life and it was still singing in the glass case.
This picture is of one of my drums; it’s made of Alaskan birch, carved into a bowl out of one piece of wood and the skin is elk hide. Inside there are feathers, seeds, herbs and stones that rattle when you move the drum. It’s a mini replica of the Grandmother Drum, the immense cedar drum made for the Grandmother Drum project in Alaska(this drum is seven feet in diameter and sounds awesome) and is about fifteen inches across.
I first started using a drum to meditate with about 12 years ago and I would highly recommend it. Even if you don’t journey in the classic sense, the beat of a drum is very therapeutic. It calms you when you’re upset; it energises you when you’re low.
The drum is said to be the shaman’s horse, taking him/her to the Otherworld.
Where will mine take me today?