The Lady of Shalott is the tragic heroine of Alfred Tennyson's famous 1832 poem, based on the Arthurian legend of Elaine of Astolat, a noblewoman cursed to live isolated in a tower near Camelot, forbidden to look directly at the world, only through a mirror. 

In Tennyson's poem, the Lady is confined by a mysterious curse that prevents her from looking directly out at the world. 

• The Tower and the Mirror: She spends her days weaving a "magic web" (a tapestry) of what she sees reflected in a mirror behind her. This mirror shows her "shadows of the world"—glimpses of life, such as funerals and lovers, which eventually leave her feeling "half-sick of shadows".
• The Turning Point: Her isolation breaks when she sees the handsome knight Sir Lancelot riding by in the mirror. Overcome by his appearance and song, she abandons her loom and looks directly out the window toward Camelot.
• The Curse: The moment she looks, the mirror cracks and her tapestry unravels, signaling the activation of the curse. Knowing her death is imminent, she leaves her tower and finds a boat, writing "The Lady of Shalott" on its prow.
• Tragic Ending: She floats down the river toward Camelot, singing a mournful song as she dies of exposure. Her body arrives at Camelot, where Lancelot, unaware of her sacrifice, remarks on her "lovely face" and prays for her grace. 

Interpretations and Legacy

When she sees the handsome Sir Lancelot reflected, she breaks the curse, looks at him, and her loom's tapestry unravels as she floats down the river in a boat to Camelot, dying as she arrives, her story immortalized by Pre-Raphaelite painters like John William Waterhouse.  

"The Lady of Shalott." This iconic artwork captures the poignant moment of the tragic heroine, inspired by Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem, as she gazes longingly from her tower, her fate intertwined with the shimmering waters of Camelot.
Waterhouse's masterful brushwork and rich color palette bring to life the ethereal beauty and haunting melancholy of the scene. 

Back in the 1990s, we ran a charming little shop that sold crystals, incense, clothes, and other bohemian treasures—a cozy esoteric haven. The building had two small rooms at the back and a tiny kitchen. We rented one room to a palmist and Tarot reader named Mary, and the other to a body piercer. Connecting the shop and these back rooms were three small steps, illuminated by a single light above. Mum had adorned the space with a beautiful, Glass hand-painted French lampshade, adding a warm, magical touch. In the evenings, Mary often held Tarot classes. Mum and I would stay behind, making teas and locking up afterward.

On one particular evening, Mum and I were sitting on the steps, chatting with Mary.

During our conversation, the topic of the Ouija board came up. Mary suggested that we, along with the Tarot class, attend a Ouija session together. With Halloween just around the corner, it felt like the perfect time. We all agreed to organize the event in the coming weeks.

The first unusual event in the days to come was both unsettling and perplexing. Mum and I were debating whether to hold a Ouija session. Dad, the kindest and most loving man, always had a deep aversion to anything related to the Ouija board—it genuinely creeped him out. As we sat together on the steps, deliberating whether or not to proceed, something unexpected happened. The beautiful French lampshade hanging above us suddenly exploded, showering tiny shards of glass all around. Stunned and speechless, we looked at each other in disbelief. We weren’t sure if most people would interpret this as a good or bad omen, but to us, it felt like a sign. And that sign told us we needed to go through with it.

Both Mum and I are, were professional Tarot readers, Mum is now retired. I even had a Tarot Room in my previous shop. Once, at a psychic fair, Mum was giving a reading to a gentleman when she suddenly exclaimed, "I can see a brick!!" She felt a bit silly saying it, but the man responded, "Yes!! Someone threw a brick at me this morning, and it hit my head!"

One of my most memorable experiences was quite bizarre. I woke up after having the most vibrant dream I've ever experienced; it was literally in technicolor. In this dream, there was Lily, a girl who worked for us, sitting behind our shop building, crouched and in tears. Then I saw a man, I had a full description of him, this guy suddenly transformed into identical triplets. I remembered saying in the morning when recounting descriptions, the triplets were Asian, as in not Chinese, Black or Caucasion (I would normally follow with gentlemen, but I cannot in this situation) but I was adamant they were neither "Indian or Pakistani" which I thought was a strange thing for me to say, the hair was very short & the identicle triplets were small frame. In the dream, we were abruptly moved to different locations; Lily, the triplets, and I found ourselves in my accountant's sitting room, no idea why my accountants room, except their living room, was always boiling hot due to central heating whenever we visited!

My Grandma, who had passed away, was making everyone a cup of tea, I can still see her pouring the tea from a teapot into the triplets cups and saucers. The vivid colours left me stunned. I shared the experience with everyone—Mum and the girls in the shop. It was so strange that I felt compelled to tell Lily. I didn't want to alarm her, but I needed to advise her to be extra cautious.

A couple of weeks later the dream had faded from significance, & it was a Saturday at 4pm, it was Winter so already dark outside, a man with wild eyes entered our shop. The following day, we discovered a syringe in the churchyard. Anyway, he was a creepy guy with mad eyes. As it was almost closing time, I then recalled the dream and asked a guy who worked for us to escort Lily to her car. On their way, the crazy-eyed man jumped out at Lily, she screamed but fortunately, our colleague was there & chased him, and the creep ran off. Lily reported the incident to the police. They came around on Monday to gather descriptions from everyone in the shop who had seen him, even using a computer to create a facial composite with eyes, nose, etc. It turned out that the creep had attacked two women that evening, which meant Lily could have been the third victim that night! Hence the triplets! The police later informed us that the attacker was actually a Turkish Kurd man, which explained my odd description. The funny thing is, it took me years to understand the significance of the cup of tea! Then, while I was recounting my dream to someone years later, I realized what we English always do when something traumatic happens, we offer a cup of tea!

I firmly believe Lily's Guardian Angel contacted me that night to help her.

The only fact I have altered is Lily's real name.

I firmly believe that the spirit world is just as real as the physical world we live in.

What’s a witchery without a little black cat sidekick? Meet Clyde—my stunning, green-eyed, sleek black cat. He’s an absolute heart-stealer. Clyde is a rescue kitty (always rescue😊)—he and his tiny tabby sister, Bonnie, were found under a hedge. Fun fact: it took some bits of spam to lure Clyde out of hiding! The second I saw them, I was hooked. Love at first sight, no doubt about it. Naturally, they both had to come home with me. These days, Clyde has gone all fancy and wouldn’t even think about touching spam. 

Getting a great photo of Clyde is a total challenge. His shiny black fur makes him disappear into pretty much any background. The trick? Catch him when he’s stretched out on something bright—like this throw. When I saw him looking so fabulous, I had to grab my phone and snap this pic ASAP. Honestly, I can’t imagine my life without a cat (or two). Clyde and Bonnie? They’re the dream team, and they bring so much happiness into my world.

I’ll never get people who claim to hate cats. Like, seriously? At this point, I’m convinced they’ve got to be reincarnated mice or something.