Thursday, October 13, 2016

Ol' Bent and Bowed.


This morning (1) I had my snoot in a snip. I could list all the ten thousand things that resulted in a snipped snoot, but bottom line I was perturbed.

When I am in no fit state for man or beast I tend to go take a walk. Usually these walks are to think on my feet, visit the locals and be able to cuss and mutter aloud where no one can hear me. It gets shit out of my system, and lets in fresh air and land-energy to fill that void and prevent the re-entry of a bad mood for at least a while.

Sunday, March 27, 2016

Plant Profile: Soapberry

Courtesy of Wikipedia.
NOTE: This entry is  not even slightly historical, and my own research/intuition. I'm one of the only people I know of that keeps this plant around, and the only one I know of who uses it in woo (thus far).  So, please attribute accordingly, and try not to be a bad neighbor. This post is also an ooooooold draft, which I am now posting to ensure this blog doesn't go dormant again. 

Sometimes a plant catches my eye. Usually while I'm driving somewhere, or taking a walk. I've known for years that the berries of this tree were used as a soap substitute by the Mormon wagon trains, but never really knew anything else. Curiosity finally won out.

It's not a big tree, but they are lovely. The bark is thick and craggy, the berries look like little burning suns when the light hits them. But what use could they have (aside from the obvious) for this witch? How do I dig deeper and discover the uses of this plant?

Sunday, March 20, 2016

HTTAS Pt. 3: Bonework And The Wrathful.

Various Familiar vessels and Figurines by Scylla. "Ladyfrog" figure by Erin Nightwalker.
This entry has been languishing in my "Drafts" for a long time now. A long, long, time. Re-reading this entry in repeated attempts to finish it I broke down crying quite often. I would shelve it for a few weeks, then a few months, and now... ah... it's been a while. Because it involves stories of spirits who deeply impacted me, and who set the tone for the way I deal with the Animal Dead as well as the Human Dead.

This is also about animals in general, and expands on HTTAS: Permissions - About the need for a working relationship and consent when engaging with others in that relationship.

TW: Animal Death, descriptions thereof. Bone work, bloody bits, witchcraft, emotions.

This post is a letter of love and fondness to Wrathful (especially), and to all of the spirits I have known. It has been my privilege to serve as their psychopomp and friend.

This is not a how-to post, this is another example of why I tell people that my blog is a travelogue and journal rather than an instructional guide.

Saturday, October 18, 2014

My Grandmother's Words.

My Grandmother's souvenir set containing oil, incense, soil and holy water from Jerusalem.

If you suffer from an anxiety disorder, depression, etc. This entry may be triggering for you. It may also be cathartic. If you were bullied growing up, came from a hostile or toxic home life...etc. The same thing may be true. I want to "trigger warn" anyone coming by because I really, really, don't want you to hurt over my hurt. I want to you be free of your fears and suffering. I want you to be happy. I want to be happy. I want to live by my Grandmother's words or rather the meaning behind them. 

This is not, on the surface, a woo-woo post.  This is also not an attempt to declare a change in my religion.  This is me cleaning out an old wound, and making some thinly-veiled commentary on bullying.

My Saturn Return started when I was in my early twenties. It loomed on the horizon like something out of Lovecraft (accompanied by blasting trumpets and screeching metal) and impressed upon me that it was about to mess me up so profoundly that by the time it was over I wouldn't even recognize myself. I took to heart its message and made grand, drastic, changes in my life to sweep a path for it to pass without injury. Except that an entire decade of the stuff means you can't keep everything out of harm's way and focusing on trying to save it all means you often save only the most precious things, or realize their loss in the aftermath.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Dangerous Knowledge. Pt.2


Hamsa from one of my personal workbooks.
A long time ago I made a post about the situation I found myself in as a youngin, and the horrors I went through as a result. Now, as an adult, I've been going through massive amounts of soul-retreival-type work and discovering... well... the whole woo-woo thing didn't start there, that's just where my memory of it picked up. So, in that respect it's basically just "pretty lucky" that it took until then to get weird/dangerous.

Recently I've had several people mention the "Dangerous Knowledge" post to me, either in passing or in direct reference. When that many mentions happen you need to pay attention, and I've found that it's definitely time to revisit the topic. 

And here's precisely how I dealt with it, though your own needs may vary.

Saturday, August 2, 2014

HTTA Stuff Pt. 2: I Hear The Sound of Chainsaws.

One of Granny Cedar's many Eyes.

I Hear The Sound of Chainsaws. 


It is coming from the deep, wild, woods. I am revolted. I cross the fences, descend down a hill and trail to the vast clearing that surrounds a sacred tree - beyond it, just out of sight, behind a veil of trembling leaves is the source of it all. It is beyond the River, and over the Hill - beyond the mythic horizon.  It is something terrible, it's not merely chainsaws and bulldozers and bright blue floodlights. It is perverted, and its wrongness affronts me and raises primordial fear and disgust. The things it raises in the back of my head, the things I know it does and wants... they are the true evils.

And realize that this is a nightmare. 

Monday, July 21, 2014

Hard To Talk About Stuff Pt.1 : Permissions.


Railway spikes found near a dump-site in the woods.
Brought home and re-purposed to "nail down" the corners of my land.
I have decisions to make, but I'm not alone. 

Decisions about trees.  Decisions about wildflowers. About fallen logs. About old bricks. Decisions about rocks. Decisions about dirt. Un/fortunately, I am not making these decisions solo. There are a myriad of spirits and forces that have to be taken into consideration before these decisions can be made.