Moontree: The Art of Healing

Welcome to the Moontree website.

Moontree is:

Deborah Robinson - Artist/Printmaker, Reiki Master and Craniosacral Therapist

David Robinson - Artist/Printmaker, Photographer and Poet

Benjamin Robinson - Shamanic Practitioner and Reiki Master

(Please note: Benjamin is now based in Bristol. He is available for consultation in Bristol, London and the Hampshire/Dorset area)

Exhibitions - Workshops - Talks - Therapies

Latest News

  • Deborah's 3D Work Page Updated

    Go to Deborah's 3D Page for images of her recent needlefelted creations.

  • New Book Published!

    David's new book

    "This Deep Moment"

    a collection of poems and images

    A4 format; 50+ pages; full-colour & monochrome images; £15 + p&p

    is now available

  • Current and forthcoming exhibitions

    Our last Exhibition:

    "Telling Stories (again)" was at

    The Glastonbury Galleries

    High St. Glastonbury

    from August 15th till August 31st


    We were at

    The Hayloft Gallery

    Wick Lane, Christchurch, Dorset

    from July 24th to Aug 6th.


    The Boston Tea Party,

    High Street,


    from Saturday 31st. January until Friday 27th. February

    This was a slightly smaller version of "Telling Stories (again)" 


    We were at The Gallery Upstairs, Upton Park, Poole

    from January 15th until January 26th. 2015

  • Creation Myth

    Creation Myth

    (Posted on National Poetry day 2014. Parts 2 & 3 added Oct. 22nd.)


    In the beginning was the word.


    The word was graceful and the word was strong.

    The word floated in the formless void

    and the darkness did not understand it.


    The word spoke itself. It spoke to itself.

    The darkness was not listening.


    Cradled in chaos, it sang itself to sleep,

    awoke and hugged itself for joy.


    One thing led to another. The word

    vibrated, swelled in ecstasy, begat

    another word. The darkness disapproved.


    Delirious with harmony, the words

    whirled and spoke and sang, though only they

    could hear themselves, the darkness was stone deaf.


    Careening madly through the empty dark,

    the words collided, danced and sparked, gave birth

    to strings and clouds and spirals of new words

    that coalesced, hanging in constellations,

    all sparkly in the newly-spoken light.


    The darkness was unimpressed. But the word

    was pleased and saw that it was good.

    And the word rested from its labours.


    And the evening and the morning were the first day.


    In the beginning, the Word imagined

    a firmament. It spoke, and it was so.

    The darkness retreated a little.

    Later, when the song lines had spun their webs,

    spidering out across the new-made earth,

    mapping out the newly-spoken land,

    separating sky from mountain,

    singing the oceans into their places,

    the Word sat back and smiled. The darkness scowled.


    And the evening and the morning were the second day.


    In the beginning, the Word considered

    the quiet joys of a peaceful garden.

    The darkness shuddered apprehensively.

    So birds, newly fledged, were despatched to fly;

    a raven and a dove, singing out loud

    across the dry, grey, silent wilderness.

    Under their song, the earth brought forth grasses,

    trees yielded fruit whose seed was in itself,

    and the beasts, after their kind, multiplied.

    The Word saw that it was good. The darkness

    withdrew behind the new moon, mortified.

    “I know a place.” Said the brand-new snake,

    grinning, as he practised making a noose.

    “East of here a bit, four rivers, nice trees.”

    So the Word sat in the humming of the garden,

    quietly naming things into existence,

    the raven, snake and dove for company.

    “What shall we call those two-legged creatures?”

    Wondered the Word. The snake smirked wordlessly.

    The darkness looked down and began to plot.

    And the evening and the morning were the third day.


  • At The Attic Gallery

    Our wall at

    The Attic Gallery

    August - October 2014