Gypsy Fires

Gypsy Fires

Timespinning

Awakening Ancestral Guidance Through Timespinning

Choreonavigating Creativity in Crisis: Weaving Broken Traditions

Russell Patrick Brown, PhD's avatar
Russell Patrick Brown, PhD
Jul 30, 2026
∙ Paid
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A bundle of flowers and wreaths sitting on the Irish shore waiting to be carried out to sea in a Lúnasa ritual

This is a lesson-demonstration of how a communal harvest dance at Lúnasa, a bend of wild Irish willow and the somatic memory of a father’s tin whistle helped me build destiny instead of inheriting fate.

It’s available in two parts:

Part I: Timespinning (Salley Ring)

Photographic demonstration of how I reconnected to an ancestral lineage of basket weaving through community, craft and somatic awareness of time. You can scroll down view it here or download and view the zine:

Timespinning Sally Belt
24.9MB ∙ PDF file
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Part II: Craft & Somatic Memory

Written documentation of how timespinning—the process of recovering broken traditions—works and a guide to exploring it in your own practice.

Prefer listening on the go? You can stream all audio labs in Apple Podcasts or Spotify by connecting your private feed in your Substack Account Settings.


Part I: Timespinning (Salley Ring)










Two generations of hands holding a willow stalk and stripping the leaves
Stripping the sallies through generations











Russell weaving the willows into a belt or wreath
I remember to weave











The salley belt completed, leaning against a tree with a wand of corn and willow resting inside it
The wand and wheel











Russell holding up a braided willow belt wrapped in grasses and wishing scarves as a woman walks through it with people looking on
Lúnasa on Kilmacreehy Strand











Russell in a nightlife dance with the wreath
Ritual carried into nightlife











A photo of Russell at 10 years old with his sister, mother and father
A memory of my father playing Down by the Salley Gardens with his Irish tin whistle every morning to wake me and my sister










Before I sang Down by the Salley Gardens in my last recital in high school, someone gave me a photo they found of my father












He was killed four years earlier by a drunk driver in a motorcycle accident











Russell and Daire posing with the bundle of flowers and belts on the Clare shoreline
Love can do funny things…










If you listen.











A motorcycle and sidecare down an Irish road with willows on either side of the ditches
The sallies on the roadside, waiting for the harvest









Thank you to Daire Spillane, Maria Kerin, the North Clare Dance Creamery, Michael Walsh, Sinead Kerin, Jackie Askew and, of course, the Sallies of Clare.


Part II: Craft & Somatic Memory

“Oh, you’ll be alright,” Daire said to the quivering tree as she reached out to cut the willow wands from its branches.

I was hesitating to make the slice and floundering in the briars, and this would not do.

“We’re going to make a dance with you,” she assured the salley, famous for its resilience.

Suddenly I’m back in the briars with my mother, father and sister in the ditch of the motorway near our house harvesting blackberries, blueberries and raspberries. Every year we made enormous batches of jarred jams, including with strawberries from the Mormon fields leftover from when they had settled in Ohio before being forced to move on to Nevada.

Like many Roma and Sinti, baskets and wreaths were important in our home as both function and decoration. The wreaths and baskets my mother decorated are still sacred to me. Gypsies have long been known for basket weaving, but the actual weaving of plants into something that can be used was one of the traditions my family stopped practicing some time ago. This was not a great tragedy, especially as we had so many other traditions to keep busy with.

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