This is a compiled list of all the works I’ve posted here thus far. I will attempt to do my best to reblog this periodically with updates, in hopes of making more blog more easily navigated. You’ll find below the links to all my (applicable) posts – arranged alphabetically and by category instead of simply chronologically. Hopeful this will be helpful!
Nail Clippings (a mix of your own and that of a black dog’s are ideal)
A Jar
Ribbons or Shreds of Fabric
Vinegar
Red, Hot Peppers, dried
Garlic, 3 or 9 cloves, broken but not peeled
Personal Affect, of he/she you seek to cross
Optional:
Urine
Rotted Meat
Crossing Oil, of your choosing
Goofer Dust
(1) Black Candle
Begin by priming your jar: wash and rinse with vinegar, then allow it to dry naturally or in the oven at the lowest setting. Once dry, the inside can be primed with the optional crossing oil by applying a small amount to an old rag and covering the entirety of the jar’s inner walls.
Next, on your ribbons or strips of fabric (which are better viciously ripped than precisely cut), write the name of he/she you wish to curse – in numerals of three. Alternately, you can write what you seek to inflict upon them, but that absolutely requires that you incorporate a person affect, whereas in the former, it could theoretically be omitted. Add to the jar the peppers and garlic.
Add in the nail clippings, the personal affect and the ribbons, lid and give a gentle shake. Remove the lid
(add in any other optional items – sans Black Candle or Urine) and recite the following as you fill the jar with vinegar (or urine, or a mix of both):
Cut the fat and dice the skin – flay the wretch who bore this sin;
That of dog and Witch’s claw – behest, infernal forces draw;
Tear asunder, limb-from-limb – done from me, so unto him.
Lid the jar and shake again, imagining them being torn to pieces by an onslaught of terrible creatures.
(You may then affix the black candle to the lid of the jar and dress it with crossing oils. Light it and read:
Beacon of the Beasts delight – I cast you out, into the night;
Fulfill for me, this frightful sight – conjured in the Witch’s mind;
Allow it thusly to burn down and dispose of in the following manner)
It is tradition to break the jar on the stoop/porch or sidewalk before your victim’s house – however, alternately, it can be buried in the cemetery near a stone that shares their name or lest as a crossroads.
On the day of She – bring forth Her Holy Symbols – and go to
Her domicile; Therein, arrange them thusly around you – offerings in toe; Prick your finger and draw the blood across Her face; “I – a servant of the Mighty – weighted in Faith, am bound;” Leave for She the Holy sacrifices – named in honor; Tie the cords about your neck and wrists and wear them ‘til
they fall; Bind them thusly with your hair and bury them in Her
Queendom.
Home of the Spirits, the ideology of the Spirit Vessel spans
countless faiths – and rightly so, for it is an “instrument” matched by few in
the witch’s arsenal. The Spirit Vessel exists for a number of reasons: it is a
grounder – a fetish that binds spirit to our physical plane and builds a bridge
between worlds, but – more than that – it is a home, an abode in which the
spirit energy dwells. Some are used to trap and harness the energy of the given
spirit – so that it may be employed to do practitioner’s bidding, but others
exist to house that sacred energy – not with entrapment, but with respect. That
is not to say the former is not respectful, only that voluntary bonds exists as
oath and agreement. It is a symbiotic, mutual source of power – a hearth by
which to draw the force of the arcane. One that bonds both parties. In this
aspect, I refer to the Higher Spirits – Gods, the Messengers, and Liminals,
though vessels can be employed with equal success to the Dead – specifically ancestors,
as a way to draw from the ancestral power – often relying on blood and earth.
Given the vast differences from path to path, I bring a
stripped set of instructions: general principles that can be built upon to
specialize the vessel for your “camino.”
Begin with the Vessel.
What this vessel is depends heavily on both tradition and personal tastes.
Possibilities are endless, though cauldrons, ceramic vases, wide-mouthed jugs
or basins, even jars can all be utilized effectively. For most, I prefer an
opaque, lidded vessel – though for my Spirit Cauldron dedicated to Rosa
Caveira, I used a non-lidded cauldron (go figure). This is in line with her
fiery energy which lends itself well to iron and sulfur – both of which are
present.
One of the most important steps (and one often glossed over)
is to treat the Vessel. For my
cauldron, I bathed it in high proof alcohol and oils and set it alight. Given
its dedication to Rosa Caveira, I did this in her Land – the Cemetery. I also
lined the inside of mine with graveyard dirt, which I mixed with the same
alcohol (along with flammable oils) and sculpted up the walls, then fired again
to create a ceramic-like liner (in part to prevent rust – as iron will readily
do so).
After treatment has commenced, it is time to bless and bond the Vessel – which can
be as simple or as intricate as you wish it to be. While it was still alight
(and since I went heavy handed on the oils, it stayed lit for quite some time)
I danced with it in the graveyard. Spinning this flaming cauldron and singing
joyfully to the spirits and My Keeper. I explained that this home was forged in
her name, gateway between worlds, and a seat for her energy. I drizzled it with
rose oils steeped with Herbs of the Dead and my own blood to “seal the deal.”
If that wasn’t fun enough, the last portion consists of Decoration
– a term I use loosely, as these same “decorations” will undoubtedly serve a
purpose. I filled mine with herbs, sulfur, curios, all of which corresponding
to her. Every now and again, I’ll take some of the permanent items out and set
the offerings alight. As is forged in fire, so must return. After which, I
return the permanent items and place it back beneath my miniature terreiro –
which then constantly draws from its energy.
As aforementioned, this general process can be employed for
any number of spirits and traditions – even those without a vessel-history. In
a sense, it can be equated in part to an altar – as I leave offerings therein
and use it as a source of power to draw from. However, given its nature, it can
be packed around with me for particularly powerful rituals on the go – which is
a particularly useful facet. I’ve also been known to feed any troublesome
spirits or energies to it, wherein they may be devoured and
purified/concentrated. It is very important to “feed” the vessel, for – as I
said – it is a mutual relationship. If you take, it is only right that you
return – lest you be cut off from its power.
///She says, “Ooh-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na! I’ll be sitting in your mirror. Now is the place where the crossroads meet. Will you look into the future?///
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I’ll call this “traditional” because it’s merely one of many ways to meet the same end. There
are some methods more popular than others, but this is my method – a method not
so set in stone, I might add. Adaptions are always welcome, this is but a
guide. As I’m sure you all well know (and this is mostly for those who don’t) –
The Devil is not synonymous with the Christian Satan or the Muslim Shayṭān, but
rather an archaic being pre-dating the Christian conquest of Europe. He exists
in many forms, under many names – but serves much the same purpose: a force of
Enlightenment. He is the Keeper of the Arcane, whisperer of Mysteries, the
Intercessor but do not fall under the notion that He is wholly benevolent (nor
wholly malevolent) for, so too, is he the Trickster, The Fool and the Hanged
Man. In these capacities, he can be likened to Hermes/Mercury, the Lwa Legba, and
Exu – Keeper of Wisdoms, but ones that
must be earned. You will be Tested – and he will decide if you are worthy of
His knowledge.
To Evoke The Devil:
Go forth to a Crossroads at the edge of town – the more
secluded and forested, the better – near midnight or when the moon is New. Take
with you the blood of a chicken or horned animal, two black candles tied into an
“X,” anointing oil, a crown woven of (young, malleable) oak or hickory – as well
as a staff or limb of the same, and an accelerant of your choosing (I always
used 91% isopropyl alcohol as it burns clean – however, it’s temperamental in
colder weather). Optionally, bring pemba
or chalk if your crossroads lacks any dirt to draw in.
When you feel the time is upon you, mark in the dirt with
your finger or a stray branch, the symbol of the crossroads (the + in a circle,
in this instance). Adorn your head with the crown, place the candle(s) at the center
of the circle (at the cross) and with the staff/limb, knock the ground in the
sequence of: knock … knock-knock …
knock-knock-knock – Take the blood and drizzle around the circle in a
counterclockwise fashion. Light the two candles and anoint your brow with the
oil. Sit before the circle on your knees and bow in the traditional manner
(sitting on your heels with your arms stretched out before you and your
forehead just off the ground) – ball your fists and knock in the same fashion
as above – asking the Devil to come forth. Repeat three times.
Return to your upright position and wait patiently until
there is a change in the air or His presence is revealed. Beseech him in
whispers – be not commanding, but receptive – and allow His behavior to
influence your own. For instance, if he is stern and stoic, be solemn. But if
his behavior is relaxed, exuberant and playful – feel free to be so. I’ve only
ever experienced the latter. The Devil comes as jubilant and child-like to me,
teasing and joking – but I know this isn’t the case for all. Most importantly,
be genuine and be respecting. Crossroads beings always have a way of seeing
through any farce you attempt to construct – so save yourself and them some
time by being open and honest to begin with. They are knowing – don’t
underestimate them.
This is but the building of the bridge. Do not yet ask for
anything, merely introduce yourself and note what it is that you wish to receive
from this relationship and how you might honor the knowledge imbued on you.
When the communion is done – remove the crown from your head
and place it in the circle. Drizzle it with anointing oil and the accelerant,
and set it alight with the candles. Extinguish the candles and lay them in the
flaming wreath.
Take three steps back from the circle, and whisper the words
“DIABOLUS – LIBERA ME,” turn away and
do not look back – as is customary with all crossroads rituals.
Prepare, for you will be tested in some way or another –
knowingly or not.
Pictured is Hermes: “
So-called “Hermes Ingenui” after the inscription on the pedestal indicating the name of the sculptor or of the donator. Hermes wears his usual attributes: kerykeion (or herald’s staff), kithara, petasus (round hat), traveller’s cloak and winged temples. Marble, Roman copy of the 2nd century BC after a Greek original of the 5th century BC.”
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Created by converting Wagoner’s Flight of the Valkyries to E and then reversing it – adding in drums and other accompaniment. Created for the playlist of the same name.
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Flight of the Furies
“Illustrious Eumenides […] whose piercing sight with vision unconfined surveys the deeds of all the impious kind. On fate attendant, punishing the race with wrath severe, of deeds unjust and base […] eternal rulers, terrible and strong, to whom revenge and tortures dire belong; fateful, and horrid to the human sight.”
I was just playing around – as per usual – and figured I’d attempt to make some music to accompany one of my poems. Perhaps with the intent of turning it into a song someday – though I’m not sure quite how to do that. Nonetheless, I figured I’d share it – especially considering its (partially) about Ariadne, the Mistress of the Labyrinth and the Sacred Bull.
Here’s the poem, converted into “lyrics” (i.e. rearranged and given a chorus):
Filaments
All
was dark but one narrow quivering Thread
of Crimson singing in choir voices of
the Lost of
the Lost /Pluck/ /Pluck/
And
from the Unknown, great walls grew from unseen seeds Nourished
by illusion and the shimmering wings Of
a teetering Butterfly, Perched
delicately on the consecrated horns Of
the Golden Bull – One
I leapt in brazen nudity, Whose
vehement splendor Guarded
my loins from trespasses –
Chorus: Can
you tame the wilds of these Stony
labyrinthine shrines – When
my peoples were still wet with birth And
the Heavens were yet Divine – Can
you save me? I
know you can – If
only we could start again
Lo,
I rode on masoned shoulders wide Through
the recesses of my own mind Which
spread out indefinitely as far as My
demi-mortal eye could see;
And
I was she, of golden axes and serpent circlets, And
through my mouth and eyes they swam
Chorus: Can
you tame the wilds of these Stony
labyrinthine shrines – When
my peoples were still wet with birth And
the Heavens were yet Divine – Can
you save me? I
know you can – If
only we could start again
O,
my hoov-ed bastions sought To
hang themselves against the sky – And
in the littlest I spied: A
great jubilant desperation that I sought Unabashed
and without the feign mercy –
I
was worshipped in the cavern temples; From
whence his horns did sprout – Do
you worship me still, Beast
of minute stature? Like
the colossal Gods of tarnished brass – Did
worship at the altar of your kindred rectories;
Chorus Can
you tame the wilds of these Stony
labyrinthine shrines – When
my peoples were still wet with birth And
the Heavens were yet Divine – Can
you save me? I
know you can – If
only we could start again
Come
ye now, O groaning beast To
the gardens in my heart – That
teem with such poison flora Take
from Kings their seven sons And
give them unto me – I
will light the studded path And
give to filth The
silken string that shall lead You
home –
Lest
you take in you the Grecian bronze; Bathed
in the oils of Athene; –
That hammered earth beneath your feet Should
mimic the basin beneath the stony Fossilic
ribs – These
serpentine fingers and innards that comprise The
impression of divinity in which I fall Hand
over hand To
the holy benches that line my streets: Come
ye now, sweet and sacred beast, Into
the ocean, the Sees of evergreen Where
you may run wild
We
are the Gate and cavern – key;; I
wish to hang at once In
the curve of your recesses I
am the wing-ed Labyrus; Of
serpentine transcendence;; And
I command thee: Cast
your docile shadow Upon
these sacred feet.
The Qedavian Apocrypha 