Spirit is spirit everywhere.
Standing on the porch of some broke-down frat house never held much appeal for M. or I. Solo cups so the campus fuzz wouldn’t know what you were drinking even though they did know. Vomiting on the lawn. Getting fucked in the back room. Being told who to blow by your sisters. Walk of shame the next day. Bad white-boy Hip-Hop.
We would ride by the houses on our way home from being out in the world and lament, “Oh, I could have had so much more fun.”
Our favorite thing was to get lost—break free of the Vander-bubble and find our way to losing our way. We had a route southward, down 21st Ave., way past where it turned into Hillsboro Rd. All the way down to Mack Hatcher Memorial Pkwy, (whoever he was). A left turn there, past the newly minted Mormon temple we had both toured during the open house, wore the little booties placed on our feet by kneeling missionaries, and surprised ourselves at how much color was inside.
I was doing research for my book yesterday when I came across this YouTube video of a bruja sighting in Mexico. Apparently it has made the rounds on Mexican news broadcasts and authorities have actually classified it as a bruja. How cool, (though maybe not so cool for locals who are really terrified of brujas).
I’m skeptical, of course, but it feels much better to let the imagination run away with itself.
I also found this great blog post in which a woman describes how Mexicans view brujas. She also relays her father’s story of a possible encounter with one. Read it here: Growing Up Mexican
Read. Watch. Enjoy. Tell me what you think.
Even though one of the worst social fails of my life happened on Imbolc, it is still one of my favorite Neo-Pagan holidays. Let’s all curl up in the candlelight as I weave my silly tale of social woe.
When I was a baby Wiccan, I found a local coven, (don’t ask me how), and decided perhaps I should celebrate the holiday with them, if they would have me. I called them up. We met in a public place. They dug me. I dug them. They asked me to come to their Imbolc celebration.
A couple of weeks ago, I grabbed my bestie and went to a painting class at Purple Easel. They teach you how to paint a specific picture in a fun environment. They supply the canvas, paint, brushes, and instruction, and you BYOB (and/or snacks or whatever). My bestie and I each brought a bottle of Arbor Mist and a can of almonds to share. (We’re classy like that.) Over the course of the night, we each finished our own bottle of sugar wine, powered through the almonds, laughed so hard our jaws hurt, and painted a wonderful “Starry Night in L.A.”
Not that I’m so single-minded as to relate everything to witching, but what I learned about myself while painting has bearing on spellcraft.
Posted in Soul Bites Spellcraft, Uncategorized
Tagged Art, Magic, Magick, Pagan, Paganism, Painting, Spells, Wicca, Witch, Witchcraft
Yesterday, I cast an important spell. Afterward, I got to thinking about the Witches’ Pyramid. I first encountered the idea a million years ago in one of Silver Ravenwolf’s books. I remembered liking it. I looked it up online and found several different explanations of what the various points mean. The one that intrigued me most was, “to be silent.” That was also the one about which I disagreed with witchy bloggers the most.
Happy Chinese New Year to one and all!
2017 is the year of the fire rooster. Sounds pretty awesome, right? I know very little about the Chinese zodiac, but here’s what I gathered:
Fire roosters are about punctuality (which makes perfect sense), and a strong sense of responsibility at work (which also makes sense if you consider how serious roosters are about their alarm clock duties. Saturday? Sunday? Too bad. You’re still getting up at dawn!).
It looks like we’re in for a year of focus on our noses to the grindstone, which isn’t a bad thing at all. Hard work now makes health and wealth later. Count on it as surely as you count on a cock’s crow.
What kind of work can you put into your worship/magical practices this year to make you more powerful and devoted in years to come?
I hope you all have a magnificent lunar year. Be well. Be safe. Be happy.
In the second week of February, some friends of mine and I are going to the Hsi Lai Buddhist Temple in Hacienda Heights, CA to celebrate the lunar new year. Look for that post coming up soon.
Last night, as I walked from the car to my doorstep, (without my glasses on), I saw a cute furry creature in my path. Being a lover of all furry kind, I reached out to pet it. It looked up at me. It had a black mask and a ringed tail. It raised one of its paws in an, “I don’t know if I should run or attack,” way. I pulled my hand back realizing I was this close to getting it eaten off by a racoon.
He and I looked into each other’s eyes for a moment. It felt like an eternity, but I’m sure it was only a few seconds. We had a mind meld of, “Don’t worry. I got you. We’re not going to hurt each other. It’s all good.”
I turned my head and went into the house. When I came out again to lock the car, the raccoon was gone. I felt a pang of loss and hope that he would find sustenance and a safe place to sleep. Someone pointed out to me later that because he was so fat, (he was a BIG boy), that must mean he has no lack of food. That made me feel better.
I took the encounter as a sign.