![]() | It's all blood & roses from here on in.
I have sea foam in my veins, I understand the language of waves.Introverted, but willing to discuss plants. I'm an INFJ. I am introverted. I am not, however, shy or anti-social. I just need alone time to recharge my batteries after social experiences. I'm not anti-social (bears repeating), I just detest 'small-talk' and am comfortable with silence. Like the ocean~ Seriously, I'm like the ocean. I have my moods and temperaments that can change quickly depending on the landscape (inner &/or outer). Like the ocean, I have a serene brutality to me. I try to focus on generative qualities in all people & situations, but if I am pushed too far, I will unleash a tidal wave on the hapless offender. I don't like doing that, so I tend to 'door slam' before things get to that point. Here on these pages, I am exploring the landscape of my soul. The place names will be both similar and different from the place names found in other mythic texts, for we all tap into the deep wells of the mythic subconscious as we manifest them in our waking lives. The some-times narrator of these travelogues is ‘the Witch’. The Witch is the mythic aspect of myself that does not follow the rules of modern society and walks through the older landscapes of the Dreaming with the Ancestors and the Shining Ones. Reaping the harvest of the apocalypse~ The year wheel turns. The phoenix sheds its skin. The serpent rises from the ash. Image detail from Stephanie Law. What new beginnings await in the dark?
Do not mistake me for my mask. You see light dappling on the water and forget the deep, cold dark beneath.
~ Patrick RothfussThe witch has returned. I am now in a place where I am doing more magic. There are many reasons for this, and I will probably be exploring them here in these pages. Once more, I find that my voice does not harmonise so greatly with the current American expression of 'culture'. I find I have little desire to gather a plethora of likes on either Facebook, Insta, Tik-Tok, or Twitter, nor collect followers that I do not interact with. To this end, I am content to be my own style of witch, living and working within my own borders and defined realm. Those of like mind are always welcome here. Please comment on this post and I will be glad to grant you access to this blog. As witches we should prepare to fly on the storm.
The power of the Witch lies in having every option open. Here, I will bring discipline, spiritual and mental clarity back to the forefront of my practises. Consider it, if you will, a public workbook and ritual for rewilding life. Witchcraft is, for me, a carnal road: a road that is walked both in flesh and spirit, inseparable if it is to be complete. This red and white path of blood, bone, and breath weaves eternally through the realms of the quick and the dead. Where we walk, we walk in Power. So much of the witch's power has been given away in the misguided attempt to be culturally acceptable by the masses. Witchcraft is a living relationship between knowledge, pleasure, and power. It is a constant within our lives when we follow our path correctly. Therefore, it is my desire to share some of my thoughts, impressions, and experiences encountered whilst pursuing and living a magical life with like-minded individuals. In these pages, I seek to reclaim the way of the witch. To live fully and freely as dictated by my conscience and will. To remake the world in my mythic image and dance with the Powers under the sky wildly and fiercely. Some thoughts will necessarily be for my consumption only, or to be shared with closer friends, not for any reasons of pseudo-elitism, but from the necessity that some thoughts only are comprehended by those who speak the same language of the 'Otherness of the Eternal' which permeates the vision of those walking an ecstatic path. Imps of Ink.
Deep in the shadows, the imps of ink danced. They whirled and capered sending ideas to the sleeping Witch, giggling while black tendrils seeped into her skin and into her soul. They danced, they dissolved, following the flowing black ink into the Witch, melting into her Shadow. Here are accounts of the worlds at play beneath the common reality of ordinary life: worlds of non-Euclidean geometries, of ancient tomes and murmuring madmen, of ancient legends of undying evil, and of the mad gods at the centre of the universe.
You must have the Devil in you to succeed in any of the Arts." ~Voltaire I glorify myself.
Dare I to introduce this account with the Homeric words Tell me, O muse, of that ingenious hero[ine] who travelled far and wide in the attempt to find the perfect opening? Perhaps.For I will, depending on the aetherial winds that do blow in with the light of day, wander in pursuit of delicate and fleeting thoughts born of night and shadows. With my face turned toward the sun, I dance in the night's path, calling unto Hekate and Helios to be the gentle patrons of these letters. Which is what this account shall be. Letters written and set adrift on the arcane electric seas of the computer realm. Dear... But to whom shall they be written? Myself, lovers, potential lovers, or just to the muses? For those curious eyes that wander the electric seas and find themselves touching briefly upon these shores? For all of the above? Yes, for all of those I would whisper to on the wind, in the sound of the sea, in the moonlight, from the sun dancing on wave top... Talk to me. |
Finding the Others~
May. 17th, 2026 06:06 pmThe Friday Five: 12 June 2026
Jun. 12th, 2026 06:21 pm1. What is place you have visited, or want to visit, that starts with D? da beach. In all seriousness, though, I'd love to visit the Dominican Republic.
2. What is a food that you like, or don't like, that starts with R? Ravioli. Love it. And risotto.
3. Own anything that starts with the letter M? Merino wool.
4. Know anyone whose name (first, middle, or last) that starts with N? My mother.
5. Favorite movie, book, TV show, or song whose title starts with T? Top Gear.
2. What is a food that you like, or don't like, that starts with R? Ravioli. Love it. And risotto.
3. Own anything that starts with the letter M? Merino wool.
4. Know anyone whose name (first, middle, or last) that starts with N? My mother.
5. Favorite movie, book, TV show, or song whose title starts with T? Top Gear.
The Friday Five: 05 June 2026
Jun. 5th, 2026 06:08 pm1. Do you enjoy reading? Very much.
2. What is the first book you remember reading? The Wind in the Willows.
3. Who is your favourite author? Ursula K. Le Guin and J.R.R. Tolkien.
4. What is your favourite book? The one in my hand.
5. What is the last book you read and the first you'll read next? Reread The Silmarillion and will probably start rereading Apocalyptic Witchcraft.
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2. What is the first book you remember reading? The Wind in the Willows.
3. Who is your favourite author? Ursula K. Le Guin and J.R.R. Tolkien.
4. What is your favourite book? The one in my hand.
5. What is the last book you read and the first you'll read next? Reread The Silmarillion and will probably start rereading Apocalyptic Witchcraft.
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The Friday Five: 29 May 2026
May. 31st, 2026 04:42 pm1. In an average week, how many nights do you eat home-cooked dinners? All seven nights.
2. Do you plan your meals out in advance, or just wing it? A bit of both. I have a general idea of what I'm going to make - mainly by cuisine - each week and just grocery shop around that.
3. How many nights per week do you eat out or order food delivered? None. See question #1. We do have a fantastic Puerto Rican restaurant up the road, though, so for special treats, that's where we go.
4. Do you keep a stock of nonperishable foods from which you could whip up a meal or two if you needed to? Absolutely. Pulses, rice, and spices; just need a protein and you're good to go.
5. Have you ever tried preparing meals for the week all at once, say, on the weekend? I did once. I just don't have the freezer space to do that. A well-stocked pantry and a general plan is much easier for me.
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2. Do you plan your meals out in advance, or just wing it? A bit of both. I have a general idea of what I'm going to make - mainly by cuisine - each week and just grocery shop around that.
3. How many nights per week do you eat out or order food delivered? None. See question #1. We do have a fantastic Puerto Rican restaurant up the road, though, so for special treats, that's where we go.
4. Do you keep a stock of nonperishable foods from which you could whip up a meal or two if you needed to? Absolutely. Pulses, rice, and spices; just need a protein and you're good to go.
5. Have you ever tried preparing meals for the week all at once, say, on the weekend? I did once. I just don't have the freezer space to do that. A well-stocked pantry and a general plan is much easier for me.
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The Friday Five: 15 May 2026
May. 17th, 2026 06:32 pm1. How often do you hear live music? It depends. Generally when I stumble upon it at local events.
2. What was your favorite live musical performance ever? Seeing The Sisters of Mercy at the 9:30 Club, 23 September 1999.
3. Do you play an instrument, or sing? I sing; mainly in the shower or my car.
4. Have you ever performed music onstage? Not since my early school days.
5. Who is your favorite musician? David Bowie, Jimmy Buffet, and Diamanda Galas. Chappell Roan is quickly moving up to the top of my list, as well.
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2. What was your favorite live musical performance ever? Seeing The Sisters of Mercy at the 9:30 Club, 23 September 1999.
3. Do you play an instrument, or sing? I sing; mainly in the shower or my car.
4. Have you ever performed music onstage? Not since my early school days.
5. Who is your favorite musician? David Bowie, Jimmy Buffet, and Diamanda Galas. Chappell Roan is quickly moving up to the top of my list, as well.
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The Friday Five: 1 May 2026
May. 1st, 2026 06:31 pm1. Do you like to spend time outdoors? Yes. I like all seasons, but dislike extremes.
2. What is your favorite flower? Roses, peonies, and hibiscus.
3. Any favorite warm weather activities? Kayaking, sailing, gardening, swimming, and beach-combing.
4. Have you ever kept a garden? If so, what did you grow? Yes, and I still do. I'm growing roses, irises, canna lilies, banana plants, rosemary, basils, peppermint, sage, lemon balm, and lemon grass. I'll be adding tulips and a rose of sharon to the mix this month.
5. Do you know how to swim? Yes, and I love it.
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2. What is your favorite flower? Roses, peonies, and hibiscus.
3. Any favorite warm weather activities? Kayaking, sailing, gardening, swimming, and beach-combing.
4. Have you ever kept a garden? If so, what did you grow? Yes, and I still do. I'm growing roses, irises, canna lilies, banana plants, rosemary, basils, peppermint, sage, lemon balm, and lemon grass. I'll be adding tulips and a rose of sharon to the mix this month.
5. Do you know how to swim? Yes, and I love it.
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Let us meet in the Witchwood
Feb. 26th, 2022 01:36 pmWritten by Jack Parsons circa 1950-52~
WE ARE THE WITCHCRAFT. We are the oldest organization in the world. When man was born, we were. We sang the first cradle song. We healed the first wound, we comforted the first terror. We were the Guardians against the Darkness, the Helpers on the Left Hand Side. Rock drawings in the Pyrenees remember us, and little clay images, made for an old purpose when the world was new. Our hand was on the old stone circles, the monolith, the dolmen, and the druid oak. We sang the first hunting songs, we made the first crops to grow; when man stood naked before the Powers that made him, we sang the first chant of terror and wonder. We wooed among the Pyramids, watched Egypt rise and fall, ruled for a space in Chaldea and Babylon, the Magian Kings. We sat among the secret assemblies of Israel, and danced the wild and stately dances in the sacred groves of Greece.
( And when the ways of your fellows about you seem the ways of idiocy and madness, know that there are also others who have seen and judged – and acted. )
WE ARE THE WITCHCRAFT. We are the oldest organization in the world. When man was born, we were. We sang the first cradle song. We healed the first wound, we comforted the first terror. We were the Guardians against the Darkness, the Helpers on the Left Hand Side. Rock drawings in the Pyrenees remember us, and little clay images, made for an old purpose when the world was new. Our hand was on the old stone circles, the monolith, the dolmen, and the druid oak. We sang the first hunting songs, we made the first crops to grow; when man stood naked before the Powers that made him, we sang the first chant of terror and wonder. We wooed among the Pyramids, watched Egypt rise and fall, ruled for a space in Chaldea and Babylon, the Magian Kings. We sat among the secret assemblies of Israel, and danced the wild and stately dances in the sacred groves of Greece.
( And when the ways of your fellows about you seem the ways of idiocy and madness, know that there are also others who have seen and judged – and acted. )
Beyond Rappaccini
Apr. 25th, 2017 08:14 amI told you I was the witch.
I told you I was the wolf.
I cannot dumb it down any more for you.
Society has already made you~
an ignorant cow, stupidly chewing
the cud of media bullshit
in the putrid glow of your television screen.
(Your kind makes me want to scream.)
I would try to elucidate you,
but I have given up the habit of banging my head against society's walls.
Instead...
I shall eat with you honey collected from the finest foxgloves and mandragora,
and grown in the garden you seek to Roundup and destroy.
My words always sweet to your kind, but dripping poison
to undermine you.
I shall perfume the air with salvia, wormwood, and myrrh.
My eyes watchful, waiting for you
to dip a drowsy nod & then I shall haunt your dreams
and turn your world inside out.
I shall feel the moist soil on my hands as I dig,
continuing to plant ivy to climb your walls and pull them down.
I will tend the slender willow, smiling when her roots crack open your controlled pipelines
and release the wild waters across your barren landscape.
I shall continue to anoint my skin with hemlock,
belladonna, henbane, and wild rose;
With my touch alone, I shall send you to the wild mountain to dance with the devil
and pull civilization from your shrieking soul.
I am the witch.
I am the wolf.
If you continue to seek my company
I shall, like Beatrice, kill you
so that you are reborn,
fit to keep me company.
I told you I was the wolf.
I cannot dumb it down any more for you.
Society has already made you~
an ignorant cow, stupidly chewing
the cud of media bullshit
in the putrid glow of your television screen.
(Your kind makes me want to scream.)
I would try to elucidate you,
but I have given up the habit of banging my head against society's walls.
Instead...
I shall eat with you honey collected from the finest foxgloves and mandragora,
and grown in the garden you seek to Roundup and destroy.
My words always sweet to your kind, but dripping poison
to undermine you.
I shall perfume the air with salvia, wormwood, and myrrh.
My eyes watchful, waiting for you
to dip a drowsy nod & then I shall haunt your dreams
and turn your world inside out.
I shall feel the moist soil on my hands as I dig,
continuing to plant ivy to climb your walls and pull them down.
I will tend the slender willow, smiling when her roots crack open your controlled pipelines
and release the wild waters across your barren landscape.
I shall continue to anoint my skin with hemlock,
belladonna, henbane, and wild rose;
With my touch alone, I shall send you to the wild mountain to dance with the devil
and pull civilization from your shrieking soul.
I am the witch.
I am the wolf.
If you continue to seek my company
I shall, like Beatrice, kill you
so that you are reborn,
fit to keep me company.
Dancing with the dead
Oct. 17th, 2015 09:43 amIn the deep and hidden darkness of the witch's heart,
embers glow back into life as the Black Sun of Midnight dawns.
Memories rise, riding the smoke of her burning heart,
born a-new to this world on her breath~
Immortal spirits made visible once more, clothed in the garments of memory.
In silence they eat, partaking the feast of earth's blood and bones:
red heart of the pomegranate,
red flesh of the stag,
white bones of finely ground bread.
Enfleshed once more by the bounty of the harvest,
the beloved dead dance hand-in-hand with the witch
beneath the silent witnessing moon.
No time for tears, no time for grief,
they enjoy each other in glad company as the moon's
forward passage reminds them this night's enchantment is all to brief.
Until morning breaks through dawn's eastern gate,
they dance, they laugh, they love~
bonds of blood forged a-new
friendships old renewed
in their Holy rite.
Figures fade in the brightening light,
borrowed garments gone,
but in the breath of ghostly smoke,
their memories live on.
With bitter-sweet smile and fond farewells,
the witch breathes them all back in
to reside, safe, once more in the darkest chambers of her heart
...until they can dance again once more.
embers glow back into life as the Black Sun of Midnight dawns.
Memories rise, riding the smoke of her burning heart,
born a-new to this world on her breath~
Immortal spirits made visible once more, clothed in the garments of memory.
In silence they eat, partaking the feast of earth's blood and bones:
red heart of the pomegranate,
red flesh of the stag,
white bones of finely ground bread.
Enfleshed once more by the bounty of the harvest,
the beloved dead dance hand-in-hand with the witch
beneath the silent witnessing moon.
No time for tears, no time for grief,
they enjoy each other in glad company as the moon's
forward passage reminds them this night's enchantment is all to brief.
Until morning breaks through dawn's eastern gate,
they dance, they laugh, they love~
bonds of blood forged a-new
friendships old renewed
in their Holy rite.
Figures fade in the brightening light,
borrowed garments gone,
but in the breath of ghostly smoke,
their memories live on.
With bitter-sweet smile and fond farewells,
the witch breathes them all back in
to reside, safe, once more in the darkest chambers of her heart
...until they can dance again once more.
