Mirror, Mirror... 11.21.17 (for the files)

"If art reflects life, it does so with special mirrors."

   ~ Bertolt Brecht

Mirror, Mirror.

1.30.17

01.02.17

Wandering: Among the Ancients (With a lesson in one-at-a-time.)

Fiddleheads unfurling toward the Sun. 

This one is for the files.

Our mycophile clan has been slowly working on establishing relationships with other members of the boreal forest -- the plant life in particular (probably in part because they don't run away when you approach them!) In mid May, we spent a day with our eyes to the Ancients. It was a relatively warm Sproing afternoon in the Alaskan boreal forest, slanted sunlight dappling trees, soil & the emerging leafy ground cover. We were in search of three plants in particular, ancient plants, food plants. 

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Horsetail, Equisetum spp.

I once described them thusly: "...ancient, self-possessed, horsetails of the Paleozoic..." I would say that this characterization stands justified, particularly the self-possessed part. There is something imperturbable & untroubled about them. They can mingle with the roadside weeds & invasive plants of disturbed sites just as easily as they thrive among the native plants of the forest floor.

Horsetail, Equisetum, spp. 

The window for collecting horsetails as a food plant is small. Only while they are spring budding shoots with branches pointing skyward are they viable for consumption. At this time they can also be gathered for tea. But once they begin to develop oxalate crystals on their outer surfaces they are only safe for external uses such as hair tonic. I like gazing down onto their sunburst-like branch-pattern. It is a bit hypnotic & I find myself wondering what there is to discover at the end of their tiny green ladders.

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Fiddleheads, nonspecific (or, more specifically [honestly], I haven't keyed them out yet)

Cretaceous, perhaps even Devonian critters. Just what have they witnessed over the millennia? 

Fiddlehead fern.
Like the nautilus & Time itself, a sacred spiral.

I have always felt that ferns are a bit like cats. The youthful fiddle heads emerge lively, cheery & sociable while the mature fern plants grow more reserved, quiet & self-contained. Always soft & magickal are the ferns, but their approachability shifts with age. 

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Devil's Club, Oplopanax horridus

"Make sure you take a deep breath of its intoxicating ginseng scent. Make friends with this plant as I have and you will delight in it rather than fearing it." -- Tom Heutte, from the USDA Forest Service website

Devil's Club leaf bud,
Oplopanax horridus

Like so many things, this pervasive, rugged beauty is terribly misunderstood. While the Devil's Club (aka "Alaskan Ginseng," but it is not a ginseng) plants are indeed foreboding in their maturity, in early spring when their delicate green buds & shoots appear, they exude an unexpected vulnerability. And indeed, these plants are vulnerable -- to human impact. Taking the ground shoots from Devil's Club plants can seriously compromise their slow reproduction. Instead, we choose to focus on a small number of leaf buds instead. Taking a walk in a sea of Devil's Club is like traveling through time, pure magic. 

"Don't bite off more than you can chew."

A recurrent lesson in foraging, as in Life. That evening we made some sublime Devil's Club sauté, lightly cooked with some sweet onions. They have a gentle, surprisingly pine-like flavour. But the fiddleheads & the horsetail remained in their refrigerator containers for a long time, strangely never spoiling, but certainly losing their vibrance. Enthusiasm must remain checked. I have always maintained a policy of deeply learning only one or two fungi species a season & never harvesting more than we can clean & prepare within adequate time time. I see how this translates to the plant kingdom as well. This is a lifetime endeavour & there is no reward at the end of the quick road or the overly abundant harvest. 

Lesson (review) noted. 

Devil's Club, Oplopanax horridus leaf shoots sautéed with sweet onion.

For the Files: Oneiric Record Keeping

Dreamwork journals for Rite of Oneiric Insight participants.

On May 23 I hosted a second Rite of Oneiric Insight. It seems to me it is important to keep record of these, or something. 

This time I kept the arrangements & ceremonial format the same, but I made the journals myself because I could not find any that suited my sense of aesthetic or purpose. Maybe this was best anyways, because I found the process of creation meditative & revealing. I am finding art & ceremony are inseparable for me.

People resemble cats when it comes to certain kinds of commitments. Inside, outside, inside, outside... ad nauseam. I prefer it when people do not make commitments until they are certain & actually committed. This may be more common with commitments that cause a feeling of ambiguity. I understand a fear of the unknown -- I have it too, plenty -- but do not engage me with it. Instead, rather, come to me when you have surrendered to your decision -- when you have decided you are in it to win it, not when you are still doing the hokey pokey. 

I always disliked that dance.

At the end of two weeks of hokey pokey, one woman (out of four) attended this particular rite. She was in it to win it & in the end of it all, she was the only one who was supposed to be there. We must trust in these things. 

I plan to repeat this rite using this format one more time (why? I don't know, I just know), then I will likely work another meditation, perhaps one more closely tied to manifesting. Perhaps there will be other changes as well. Also as time progresses, I will continue to add to the Dream Shrine which has already evolved significantly. 

Static does not seem to me to be the natural way of things, but rather subtle, sensible evolution should be allowed to occur, organically, spontaneously. There is always room for thoughtful, conscious adjustment. This, among other things is what distinguishes my work from that of a traditionalist. I cannot claim a pedigree or even a pedagogy. I can only claim what is mine.  

Dreamwork journal bindings:
"Alis volat propriis," "She flies with her own wings."

For the Files: Beware the Stick Figures

Stick Figures: Ridiculous.
Ridiculously potent.

I have mentioned Stick Figure Manifesting before. This serves as a reminder to myself (& to anyone else who may also experience this phenomenon): Beware the stick figures! Like sigils, they manifest (a little too effectively perhaps). They may not be at all sexy like a full blown ceremonial magick-style sigil meticulously created using an appropriate astronomical kamea & embellished with biblical &/or other obscure & ancient words of wisdom to then be obsessively scribed or etched onto some rare metal, parchment or other critter skin & finally, laboriously consecrated with a gloriously elaborate circle-shaped ceremony... but they work. 
Oh, my, how they work...

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Greet the Sun — Morning Movement & Offering 

Join Resh Keljesh and yoga instructor Kathryn for a collective expression of gratitude to and celebration of the Solar Source. Awaken, energize and connect with your community mates through guided group movement. Share in thankfulness and reverence while the Resh K’eljesh devotional dance troupe makes offerings to the Sun through rhythmic gestures and dance. Feel the light stir within and without as we rise, rejoice and build a conduit to facilitate warmth and harmony together.  — Hosted by Resh K’eljesh

Manifesting with Movement: Whole Body Symbol & Sigil Magick with Moma Fauna 

Both workshops described below are condensed previews of a multi-week, intensive series to be offered at a future time. 

Part 1: This preparatory workshop establishes a general framework for the “movement manifesting” concepts in Part 2 by exploring a variety of magickal principles, attitudes and approaches employed in symbol-focused magick. Among the many concepts covered in Part 1 will be definitions and implementation of amulets, talismans and sigils throughout history and cross culturally, a comparison of theories and strategies for executing sigil/symbols in manifesting operations and practical devices for creation of magickal analogies.  

Part 2: During this second workshop, we will begin to transfer and apply the principles from Part 1 to three dimensional space and somatic movement. We will explore concepts of visualization, geometry, dimensional orientation, personal creativity, style and repertoire, harnessing muscle memory for “organic belief” or a “magickal forgetfulness.” We will also take time to consider and discuss the implications of embodiment as magickal operation for both individuals and groups.

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And I swore I would keep it simple at this Summer Solstice festival.

Beware the stick figures!

Rite of Oneiric Insight, Part 3: Reflections

Some quick notes on the Rite of Oneiric Insight (for the files).

"Dream Drawers" in varying stages of production.
A project initiated & further inspired by the Rite of Oneiric Insight.

It is all in the intent.


I attend a dream circle led by a very astute & intelligent attorney who has been journaling & doing dream work since the early 1990's. During a discussion of dreams, dreamwork & how we understand, interpret & relate to our dreams, the attention turned to me. All eyes in my direction, I gestured as though I was placing a hat on my head & said, "Time to put on my crazy hat..." And I offered perhaps a more candid explanation to that group of relative strangers than I would to people closer to me. I had expected eyebrows to raise, or faces to glaze over, but instead the response was, "It is all in the intent."

And so there we have it. I just needed to say it.


A few reflections on the inaugural Rite of Oneiric Insight:

My people:
My (deliberately) small group was comprised of four participants, plus myself as officiant. The group was diverse with ages ranging from approximately 30 to over 60, three women & one man, representing multiple ethnic backgrounds, occupations & spiritual leanings. Two have inclinations toward shamanism -- one modern or "neo-shamanic," one vis-a-vis culture/heritage. One participant has a proclivity for Hellenic practice & the another is a seasoned dream worker. Everyone had their own understanding/interpretation of this journey & everyone had wonderful reflections & energy to contribute.

The Cards Don't Lie:
One of my participants was feeling leery about attending & waffled hot & cold over the week, primarily because of the elixir -- having a sensitive disposition, she was nervous about consuming it. I told her she could participate without drinking it & she agreed to this condition. Since I only had three drinking horns, I told her that was convenient & I would make her some chamomile tea instead. But, when she arrived, she had changed her mind, as she is wont to do & decided the elixir would be fine. I replied that since she is so fickle, she didn't get a drinking horn this time. She also neglected to bring her hearing aids, so she missed much of my introduction, the ceremony & basically all of the visualization despite my careful placement of her head nearly in my lap. 

When the time came to draw cards, she was the only participant to draw a Gate of Ivory. 

I sent her home with the script for the visualization journey & she recorded it for herself, repeating the journey using headphones, with more success (I hope). 

An Inspiration from Offering:
My personal offering was a small apothecary chest which had been fashioned as an advent calendar. I planned to convert the chest into a small, portable shrine for dream ceremony-ing, painting it with a simple black exterior, maybe putting it on feet. I felt the simplicity of the shape & design allowed the personal imagination to operate uninfluenced by specific iconography, with the drawers representing the multitude of possibilities in the dreamworld & also functioning as containers for offerings amassed over time.

The night of the rite, I dreamt of images on the drawers of the chest, each representing various themes, landscapes, concepts one might encounter in the dreamworld. Thus, a new variation on the shrine was born -- the box will probably remain a night sky black while the drawers will each bear a different symbolic image. I also considered using each of the first four people who participated with me as muse for a drawer face. (The drawer with musical composition in the image above was inspired by one of the participants.) 

Rite of Oneiric Insight, Part 2: Cartomancy & Visualization

Cards used for divination in Rite of Oneiric Insight
(Gate of Ivory, Back, Gate of Horn, respectively)
Gate designs by artist Amanda Kiefer. 

Notes on a couple important details for "The Rite of Oneiric Insight": 

Cartomancy:

In Duncan Barford's Rite of Morpheus, he employs a divinatory technique which involves blindfolded attendees choosing to walk toward one or another corner of the room & then revealing to them which Oneiric gate the corner signifies. I hesitated to follow this technique for several reasons, one of which was the simple fact that I had set the room up in the form of a large bedspace & it would be a hazard to try to have people stumble about blindfolded in loose bedding. The other primary reason is that I placed a great deal more emphasis on the visualization portion of this rite & I didn't particularly want to rouse people so abruptly after a long guided meditation.

Instead, I created a deck of cards which contains only two faces: Gate of Ivory or Gate of Horn. All the backs are identical, of course & I laminated them for longer wear. I gave each attendee a muslin pouch into which they would later put a clary sage steeped cloth & mugwort herb, but before that, they needed to select one of the two cards I had placed in their pouch. I did not dictate how they should do this, only that they should consider carefully their forthcoming dreams with great focus. Some selected right from the bag, others took them out, shuffled & spread them. The result were quite incredible, but I will save that story for "Rite of Oneiric Insight Part 3: Reflections." 


Visualization:

The verbiage used for the visualization's beginning & ending, that is, the relaxing entry into a meditative state & the gentle reentry in to the waking world was borrowed & adapted from several of Jody Whiteley's sleep hypnosis videos & scripts including, but not limited to:

Sleep Hypnosis Hypnotic Bedtime Story for Self Confidence Self Esteem
Sleep Hypnosis for Lucid Dreaming a Free Hypnosis Script
Morning Meditation by Jody Whiteley
Sleep Hypnosis for Self Confidence (newest version)
Sleeping Under Red Eleven (Google Drive)

The body of the dreamwork visualization, or the "Journey to the House of Sleep," I composed using excerpts from a variety of sources including:

Metamorphoses Book XI:573-649 The House of Sleep (A. S. Kline's Version)
Homer, Odyssey 19. 562 ff (trans. Shewring)
Charles K. Dillaway, Roman Antiquities & Ancient Mythology for Classical Schools (2nd ed)

The Orphic Hymn to the Oneiroi found within the visualization I adapted from "Dream" by Kimberly Nichols as published in "The Sacred Songs of Orpheus IV: Ares to Death," in Newtopia Magazine.

The text of the visualization (journey body only) is below. Please note that I have omitted the meditation entry & reentry out of respect for Jody Whiteley & her work. My adjustments to her compositions was minimal -- only small to adaptions for context & sequencing of events were made.


"Journey to the House of Sleep" 
A Visualization for Rite of Oneiric Insight

(Relaxation/Meditation Entry Omitted)

"...you can see where you are going now is some place darker and more mysterious and you can hear the faint sounds of ocean breezes and see a twilight sky and the starry cloak of mother Nyx closes over the scene above you until you are looking at the canopy of Night’s heavens and you come to rest upon the soft earth amongst a swath of tall grasses and wildflowers… and as you land, the wispy, green undergrowth, rustles and scratches the sides of your bed that bumps softly twice and it lands to tamp down the foliage to one side, maybe its your left side, there is a path roughly carved into this bluffy landscape and a door has opened beside your bed to invite you to take a little stroll down this path which leads away from the ocean, bending up over a rise, out of sight and you are curious about what you might find across this meadow so you get up out of your bed or your chair and take a walk along this path… 

big gap… 

The trail is very slightly sandy and feels soft and warm beneath your feet and it is slightly damp, but the air is dry and comfortably cool, not chilly. You near the top of the rise in the path and as you do, the sounds of the sea become a little bit quieter and you notice that the breezes have begun to ebb, slowly and softly disappearing into stillness. 

You keep walking in the dim light of the starry sky and when you reach the crest of the hill, you are amazed to see the Moon has broken over the horizon to highlight a wide, low valley, bathed in blooming poppies and sleepy herbs, drowsy plants from whose juices dew-dappled Night gathers sleep, and scatters it over the darkened earth… at the center of this blanket of ethereal, luminescent flowers is a hollow mountain with a deeply cut cave… 

As you begin your descent along the path into the valley, you notice that the sounds of the world around you have disappeared…  

And you become aware that you are now approaching the House of Sleep, a place where perpetual stillness reigns, no noise being heard but the soft murmur of a small fork of the river Lethe, which creeps over the loose pebbles, and invites you to slumber… 

Here, in Hypnos’s sanctuary, silence dwells. In this place of complete peace, you will find no guardians…
No waking cockerel summons Aurora with his crowing,
no dog disturbs the silence with its anxious barking,
no geese cackle their sharp alert…
No beasts, or cattle, or branches in the breeze,
no clamour of human tongues.
Only the flow of Lethe’s stream, murmuring and calling you to drowse… 

As you come closer to the cave entrance, clouds mix with fog, and shadows of the half-light are exhaled from the ground, and through the soft haze, perhaps in the corner of your eye, you think you might see two grandly adorned gates, fading in and out of the shadows. And you remember that somewhere, sometime, someone told you about these gates, these gates somewhere beyond the North Wind… the Gate of Horn and the Gate of Ivory, from which Dreams emerge…

And you know, somehow, in some way, that there are no doors in this palace and that beyond the mouth of this open cave, if were you to travel through the mouth of this cave, lies a tall bed made of ebony, a downy nest, spread with a dark-hued coverlet, where the god of Sleep himself reclines, his limbs relaxed in slumber… his head surrounded by fantastic visions… 

But you have not come here to have an audience with the drowsy god, you have come to meet the Oneiroi, the dream spirits who gather round him and lie, here and there in the soft, quiet darkness of his bedchamber… uncertain dreams, taking different forms, as many as the ears of corn at harvest, as the trees bear leaves, or grains of sand are strewn across the shores… 

Standing a few yards from the entrance, you pause for a moment and observe your surroundings… could this place be a dream? And this is when you remember why you came here… Yes, to honor the dream spirits that rest here and depart through the spectral gates to offer their visions while we sleep… You reach into your pocket and find a paper, a paper with a hymn printed upon it… It is Hymn to the Oneiroi, and you take a deep breath, filling your nostrils and your lungs with the heavy scent of Sleep’s landscape, and you begin to recite… 

Swift-winged dreams, Oneiroi,
messengers of the stars,
oracles to the human mind,
in the sweet silence of sleep
you arrive without a sound
speaking to the soul…
Whispering, you rouse the senses,
in our slumber you reveal to us
the will of the Blessed Ones.
Sincere souls that take the honest way
of devotion to the divine,
you silently show
glimpses of distant tomorrows.
Good wins every race
in mortal minds.
Good leads our lives
to anticipated pleasures,
and relieves our suffering
so the spirits can reveal
the mysteries of Their domain.
The sincere always end more sweetly,
but the insincere remain blind,
pensive with fears,
their respite from pain is never revealed.
In all things bring us closer
to the noble path.
Reveal the concealed
signatures of fate.
Let no strange apparitions
show us signs of ill omen.
We call to you, beloved Ones,
show us the will of the gods. 

In the tranquil silence of the Moonlit landscape, you sense a stirring from within the very heart of the mountain. This stirring you sense from within, with your intuition, your second sight, because the cave is too dark, this place too quiet for you to discern the movements with your well-used senses. Fixing your eyes on the mountain’s yawning mouth, you wait… 

And with a sudden, silent rush there emerges a flood of airborne creatures, a surging wind of dark forms on the wing… birds, bats, or angels of the Night sky — how many ways can we know Them? They surge into the fog, and if you look, not with your eyes, you might see them leaving through the gates, a fluttering, torrent fading into the shadows… 

The softest breeze brushes your cheeks and flutters down your body and you know this sensation must be the passing of some of these dream spiritits, making their passage into the the realm we call the unconscious… 

Something tells you it is time to return to the path and begin your departure from this sleepy valley, but before you turn away from the House of Sleep, you look once more at your hymnal page. You notice it has changed. Take a moment to trace that page into your memory so that you may carry it back with you to a place of wakefulness…"

(Closing/Reentry Ommitted)

One final note: The Ceremony Pamphlet with Hymns, Outline & Credits in  printable PDF format is available HERE via Google Drive.

Animas Ceremony Complaints Department: Where Am I Going with This? (An Explanatory Outline.)

Due to feedback received by the Pray to the Moon complaints department, I am adding a brief explanation for what I am sure seems (from the outside) to be a bizarre meandering about in details rather than an explanation of how a ceremony came to be.

To clarify, I am actually telling this tale in the order in which it unfolded. Really & truly. The ceremony proper was not written until long after choreographing & costuming & painting & many other things like logistics & gathering of offerings were long underway. 

This is the honest truth.

Why?

Because I don't like to write ceremony. (Actually, I don't like to write anything when it feels like an assignment.)

And because I trusted this Thing to emerge from its chrysalis naturally, at the right time. So I began all the needful preparations for its arrival & waited for it to unfold. 

cRaZy. Sometimes you just go with it.


So, in an attempt to placate the audience (which is odd, since I generally write under the presumption that I don't have one), I will provide a draft outline of Where-I-Am-Going-With-This (subject to change, of course). 


Animas Ceremony: An Invitation to Passion, Table of Contents


I. Public Animas Ceremony Part I: Breaking in the Bellwether

• Discussion of the origins of the Animist Bellwether & its first use as an introduction to ceremony.

II. Public Animas Ceremony Part 2: Having A Vision

• Discussion of receiving, recognizing & trusting a Vision that is True.
• Includes formal public announcement for Summer Solstice Animas Ceremony & Ecstatic Dance Event: An Invitation to Passion.

III. Public Animas Ceremony Part 3: Communicating & Manifesting The Vision (Even Without the Written Word)

• Discussion of communicating a Vision to others which remains unwritten.
• Includes concept sketches of ceremony visuals.

IV. Public Animas Ceremony Part 4: Trust Your People

• Discusses, in three parts, trusting the skills of experts to assist in manifesting the Vision.
• Also emphasizes the importance of gratitude for these people's contributions.

1. Public Animas Ceremony Part 4a: Trust Your People: The Costumer
2. Public Animas Ceremony Part 4b: Trust Your People: The Choreographer
3. Public Animas Ceremony Part 4c: Trust Your People: The Magus (DJ, that is)

V. Public Animas Ceremony Part 5: Art. Let it in.

Public Animas Ceremony Part 5a: Art. Let It In. (And make it an offering.)

• Discusses the use of art as an offering as well as an aesthetic, spiritual & communication device.
• Includes images of Art Bowls used in the ceremony.

Public Animas Ceremony Part 5b (1-8): Art. Let it in. (And celebrate the artists.)

• A succesion of biographies for artistic contributors to the ceremony. 
• Also a reminder that animism is about relationship & this includes our human relationships; respecting, understanding, honouring & having gratitude for those who enrich our lives.

1. Public Animas Ceremony Part 5b(1): Art. Let It In. (And Celebrate the Artists: Anna Nelson)
2. Public Animas Ceremony Part 5b(2): Art. Let It In. (And Celebrate the Artists: Lee Harrington)
3. Public Animas Ceremony Part 5b(3): Art. Let It In. (And Celebrate the Artists: Joanne Harnagel)
4. Public Animas Ceremony Part 5b(4): Art. Let It In. (And Celebrate the Artists: Bryan Perrin)
5. Public Animas Ceremony Part 5b(5): Art. Let It In. (And Celebrate the Artists: Susan Perrin)
6. Public Animas Ceremony Part 5b(6): Art. Let It In. (And Celebrate the Artitsts: Alica Wolter-Hausser)
7. Public Animas Ceremony Part 5b(7): Art. Let It In. (And Celebrate the Artitsts: HPS CC)
8. Public Animas Ceremony Part 5b(8): Art. Let It In. (And Celebrate the Artitsts: Moma Fauna)

Remaining Subjects, in Tentative Order:

VI. Public Animas Ceremony Part 6: Offerings. (More? Really?)

• Will discuss yet more offerings including art eggs, herbals & poetry. May require multiple entries.

VII. Public Animas Ceremony Part 7: Selecting & Tending Your People

• Will discuss the process of selecting Officiants, getting commitments, the importance of communicating their personal value & the power of relationship.
• Will also briefly discuss the folly of the standard call for volunteers & why, imho, it does not work. Also a bit on how & when "ritual by committee" can & does work.

VIII. Public Animas Ceremony Part 8: Ceremonial Structure

• Will reiterate reasons for hosting this ceremony as well as the intent, language & structure of ceremony.
• Will include outline of Officiants Invo/Evoc/Invit-ation to/of spirit(s) of Passion.
• Will include link to full ceremony document (PDF via Google Drive).

IX. Public Animas Ceremony Part 9: A Wee Bit on Ecstatic Dance

• Whys, hows & goals around the ecstatic dance portion of the evening.

X. Public Animas Ceremony Part 10: Rounding it Out & Covering Bases. Even More Communication & Gratitude: Ceremony Programmes

• Will discuss the value of providing a ceremonial programme, particularly for newbies & persons unfamiliar with animist concepts. 
• Will include images of Animas Ceremony: An Invitation to Passion programme as well as a link to the full programme document  (PDF via Google Drive).

I am certain I have overlooked something. So I will continue to update & adapt here & ultimately I hope to create a Ceremony Section for this journal where all this & future ceremonial details will be recorded. However, that must wait until I complete my current work on the Nyx devotional gallery page.

For the Files: Stick Figure Manifesting

This one is for the files.

Stick Figure Manifesting circa mid '90's.

All that discussion about magick & manifesting with stick figures provoked some reflection on my part & I realized that I have practiced that technique -- relatively unconsciously -- with some regularity over the years. It reminded me of the drawing above which was pinned on the wall in my cubicle for many Moons until the desire was made manifest.

I have always been auto-shy & living for so many years in a place where public transportation was free didn't encourage me to pony up & get my driver's license. It wasn't until I was 25 years old & found myself relocating to Vermont when I recognized that I could no longer drag my heels. Like a good little do-it-backwards human, I went car shopping long before I obtained my license...

And I fell in love.

With a car.

Sounds like a midlife crisis, I know.

A boxy, black Volvo 850 Sedan. She sang to me her sweet, dark siren's song & it was over -- she had me hook, line & sinker. She was a used rental vehicle driven for a couple of years by a pharmaceutical representative & smelled a bit like his cigarettes, but more like her leather. She was so shiny & square & black... I had to have that car in my life.  

And so I drew that picture of myself with a face-splitting grin beside my Volvo.

This picture didn't manifest instantaneously. I had to take driver's education, find a down payment, pass the driver's exam, apply for a loan... I became pretty good friends with the guys at the Volvo shop by the time I actually acquired the car, taking rides in their nitrous-equipped race cars & joining them for beer at the pubs. I told them I was naming her Pandora. The reply, "Pandora, that's a good name for a black box."

Pandora is sitting under a protective cover in the carport as I write. She can still purr with the best of them, but she's a part-timer now. She & I have perpetrated many feats of bad driving & crossed the country together. People have suggested I replace her with another 850, one with less elemental wear, but that's just not reasonable. That's just not this animist's way.


When you don't have the words, draw it.

Even if it looks ridiculous.

You just might get what you need.

Cultivating Moon, In Pictures. (For the files.)

Cultivating Moon 2013.

Time has very much gotten away from me. As I have made a commitment to keep record of at the very least, our main traditions & activities here in this journal, I shall strive to continue doing so, in between... 

the childrearing,

& the party-throwing,

& the relationship-having,

& the magick-working,

& the greenhouse tending,

& the library maintaining,

& the art making,

& the community gathering,

& the mood mending,

& the dreamworking,

& the (finally!) being OUTSIDE...

Many days after the fact, I attempt to record our Cultivating Moon Esbat, relying heavily on my images for the record. This one is for the files.

In the waxing week preceding the Full Moon, we planted & quickly -- very quickly -- seeds sprouted...

Cultivating Moon sigil, greenhouse talisman
& tomato seedlings in the greenhouse.

I had created a talisman for the greenhouse which I had planned to consecrate with the some Witchy cohorts, but I found didn't want to... I just don't work that way & no matter how much I enjoy the company, certain things I just need to do my own way. Or Her way. Just me, my family & Moon.

Greenhouse talisman, 2013.
The first of many to come -- each year a new design
& another rafter adorned.

For the offering? A sweet coconut sticky rice Moon with mango stars, dressed with coconut palm sugar syrup. Relish it with homemade lychee vodka... perfection.

Sticky Moon. Offerings on the ice. 

This Esbat also marked the culmination of a very lengthy process: "flying ointment" complete. But more on that later, perhaps.

Oil of Amanita.

This snapping of Spring has brought with it a marked window of busy-ness. Let us hope all of this buzzing leads to successful cultivation, but more importantly, let us hope it brings us continued personal growth & happiness. 

Cultivating Moon 2013.

For the Files: "Feral Hermeticism"

Dream notes to self, for the files:

Despite the absence of any dreamwork effort on my part, the dreams seem to be demanding more of my attention. Last night, I was introduced to a term, "Feral Hermeticism." It appeared in several conversations, across multiple dreams. I was instructed to remember it into the waking hour & I was given the impression it is of import somehow, yet I do not know what it means. 

Days 2 & 3: Hadit & Ra-Hoor-Khuit (For the Files)

Day 2: Hadit

Rising at the wee hour of dawn or so to read Chapter Two of Liber AL vel Legis in attunement with the misfits, or, as we call ourselves, the Scarlets. On this noteworthy day, at this daybreak hour, I am struck by these lines in particular:

30. If Will stops and cries Why, invoking Because, then Will stops & does nought.

-- Chapter 1, Liber AL vel Legis, sub figura CCXX      

This struck me as very relevant to my recent rants about armchairs & community progress & the conflicts that arise therefrom. I held the words in my cheek pouch until evening & spat them out before the members of the O.T.O. after the reading. Ah ha! (It was one of those moments.) Bodies stir in their chairs. Heavily made up green eyes, thick with kohl light up from across the table. Garnished by her robust Serbian voice, the emphatic response sparkles (much like her eyes) in the air, "Yes! I love that too!" Being just as I am, of course, I cannot help myself & I ask "Why?" What great reception! What remarkable variability of thought! Every response unique & independent, yet entirely compatible with the others... & isn't that just as it should be? This is why, despite all the arguments I can summon to justify doing so, I simply cannot turn up my nose at Crowley.

"Nuit & Hadit" by unknown binaries of DeviantART.

Day 3: Ra-Hoor-Khuit

Rising at the wee hour of dawn or so to read Chapter Three of Liber AL vel Legis in attunement with the misfits, or, as we call ourselves, the Scarlets. On this noteworthy day, at this daybreak hour, I recognize that I am still not ready to be fully receptive to this chapter. I suppose, this is the sort of thing that causes me to forever be an "in-between."

Day 1: Nuit (For the files)

Rising at the wee hour of dawn or so to read Chapter One of Liber AL vel Legis in attunement with the misfits, or, as we call ourselves, the Scarlets. On this noteworthy day, at this daybreak hour, I am struck by these lines in particular:

27. Then the priest answered & said unto the Queen of Space, kissing her lovely brows, and the dew of her light bathing his whole body in a sweet-smelling perfume of sweat: O Nuit, continuous one of Heaven, let it be ever thus; that men speak not of Thee as One but as None; and let them speak not of thee at all, since thou art continuous! 

28. None, breathed the light, faint & faery, of the stars, and two. 

29. For I am divided for love's sake, for the chance of union. 

30. This is the creation of the world, that the pain of division is as nothing, and the joy of dissolution all.   

-- Chapter 1, Liber AL vel Legis, sub figura CCXX     

Kisses of the Stars - REVISED

by horrificus of DeviantART.

For The Files: Morel Dreams.

A note to self, for the files:

Some time in the dissatisfaction of this early morning, after countless awakenings to cat caterwauling, stealing of food & toys on the kitchen counter, Changeling tossing & turning, Little Lad willfully contorting about in my bed because he does not want to sleep alone...

I recall being disappointed in the dream, in whatever happenings had preceded the thought. I walk over a peculiarly green rise as I wander. I can hear the family behind me. This is unusual, since I very rarely dream of them. I am thinking I am done with this dream, that there is nothing here & we are leaving it when I find the most incredible morels growing in great clusters on the far side of the rise. Against the technicolor "grass" they are very large & tall, like quarts of milk. Their dark chocolate brown bodies are accented with a glowing "blogger orange" highlighting  along the network of ridges on the "cap." It seems to me that somehow the dark brown portions are glowing as well. Can dark glow? I feel an overwhelming sense of excitement & satisfaction. I show them to the family. The Lad & I kneel beside them, beaming. Everyone is elated. I am now resolved with this dream & it fades to dark.

I am left wishing I could paint. These mushrooms ought to be manifested somehow, somewhere, beyond my memory. I am also left wondering, am I really that simple? Mushrooms = complete satisfaction?

"Morel encounter" by DevianteFlap of DeviantART.
This looks absolutely nothing like my dream. At all. But I couldn't resist.

Bucket List: Places to Visit (For the Files)

Which road leads here?
Image received via Android.* Source credit unknown.

*Special thanks(?) to my sister for leaving me fixated on this place for what now amounts to weeks.

For the Files: What She Said. (About embodiment.)

Embodiment. Simply, wonderfully weird.
Image gratefully borrowed from "the constant conundrum."

"We are too much held hostage by reason, and yet snared by our animal natures. The mythic dimension has receded from our lives and consciousness just as the stars have withdrawn into the infinite depths of the heavens. As the majority of modern people are cut off from this primal relationship with the stars by light pollution, so too we are no longer nourished by the coursing of the mythic through our veins. In the same way, the light of reason has obscured the dark wisdom of the body. 

The mythic transcends both the reason and the animal. It is divine. It transcends the dichotomy of finite and infinite, of mortal and immortal. Through myth, the divine and the daemonic enter the world, in the body of the player – whether actor, shaman, dancer, priest, bacchant, maenad, or artist." -- Text from Alkistis Dimech's presentation at: A Pleasure Dome  2012.

The rest of the transcript can be found over at Scarlet Imprint, in the article "B A B A L O N - Embodiment of Mystery." It is among one of the best pieces I have stumbled upon in the ether as of late, even if Babalon Herself does not particularly move me. At all. But, I believe the principle of moving "...from myth towards a method" applies for any permutation of spiritual/reverential/devotional relationship. I'm working on it.

I have been wondering what feral embodiment looks like.
From the outside, I think it probably looks quite awkward & strange.
Like goofy humans overjoyed & overcome by trees.
On the inside, it feels awkward -- at least at first -- but also, sublimely beautiful.
Like honesty.


This morning I watched a film posted by my clever friend at "the constant conundrum." Feral embodiment precisely. Awkward. Beautiful. Honest.

(Thank you naomi.)

Thoughts While Not Sleeping: The Pieces of Everything

For the files.

Scrawled in my bedside sketchbook at 4:10 a.m., January 19, 2013:

"It is incredible to me, how the pieces of Everything continue to fit together, despite my inability to articulate the Whole."

May I Borrow a Cup...?

A short, amusing anecdote about living with uncommon neighbors. For the files.

I received a text from downstairs asking if I might be troubled for a moment with a phone call. Our neighbor needed to borrow something. 

A cup of sugar? 
A power drill? 
A spot of rum? 

No. 

"A small dish for consecrating salt, please."

Under normal circumstances, this request would easily be accommodated. However, having just completed our move, we could not find such an item. There was a brief panic until I remembered the pretty earthenware sake set boxed away above the refrigerator. A cup. Perhaps this will work.

Hubby trailed me as I carried the small, speckled compromise downstairs. The door was ajar. Beyond it, the room was filled with Witches wielding swords & smudge sticks. There was much busy-ness & making of smells & sounds. An overflowing altar glittered from the center of the room. I waded into the kitchen & handed him the little cup. 

"Perfect."

Upon returning to our own kitchen upstairs, Hubby turned to me with a wry grin,

"Our neighbors are weird."
"Yep."

✫✫✫✫✫

One of the real joys of living so close to "weird neighbors" is sometimes they let you in on something very special. 

Like fresh, homemade lemon curd. 
Or insightful divinations.
Or sacred fires.

Fire, fed by three wise, wild women.

A toast to weird neighbors! May they continue to borrow strange objects, wave swords & set fire to rocks... 

...perhaps we should check on the insurance policy.

For the Files: What He Said. (About armchairs.)

Yes. Saved here, for the files.

"The occult student... is besieged by hundreds of books describing dozens of practices of every kind. They promise, directly or otherwise, to bring him to the very heights of spiritual attainment, no matter how that attainment is defined. By the very wealth of material is he overwhelmed. And the result is that, generally speaking, he does nothing except read. Reading does very little to bring one to any kind of realization of one's divine nature." -- Israel Regardie, The One Year Manual (emphasis mine)

For this animist, one translation of the passage reads: 

"Go outside. No matter what."