Tools of the Craft

It's about  time for my annual High Mowing Ritual, which happens to coincide with the autumnal equinox.I love the word equinox; it literally means "equal night", beautiful. There is no logical explanation for this coincidence of events, it just feels right. My excitement is heightened this year by two events, both blog related. First was this absolutely wonderful piece from Jen Rue, entitled Tools of the Game. I have been considering the magic of tools recently, there is much in world fairy lore about tools; more on that in a bit. It was after I read this reflection on Dark Ecology by Paul Kingsnorth, who was brought to my attention by the good Aidan, that I discovered what my next tool shall be; a scythe.

 BODENEHEMANN

 

To decide to take on the role of Bodenehemann or "Land Husband" is a commitment to listen and be rewarded with unexpected rewards. To take this liminal role as a boundary keeper, bridging the gap between wild and domestic is a responsibility to also maintain balance. We are the last defense on both sides.

As I dream about next years adventure with a scythe, I prepare for this year's last of the season mowing. Looking about the property I notice an amazing thing, a forest is growing. I have been combining, forest gardening, native species rehabilitation and a hands off approach, to slowly achieve a balance between my needs and the needs of the community of life in This Place. Squirrels will provide an example.

Sciurus Niger, the humble Fox Squirrel, hated by birders and gardeners alike, this lovely fiend has become one of my greatest allies. I used to fret about the competition for pecans and acorns, until I paid attention to what was actually happening in my yard. Squirrels do not eat dry pecans, they don't. They eat green pecans, and bury dry pecans. in the spring when the pecans sprout they dig them up and eat the small green tree. Squirrels are gardeners. This stunning realization coupled with the presence of pecan trees and oak trees in places that I had not planted in, lead me to reassess my relationship with squirrel. Now we have an arrangement, I don't gather pecans until late in the season, and squirrel plants trees and trim the ends of the branches. When I first saw a squirrel chewing the end of a branch I thought it was damaging it, turns out it works like pruning. The tree responds to the stress by producing more branches, which produce more pecans, brilliant. The pecans I gather by the way are still clinging to green husks, way out on the end of low hanging branches, easy for me to pick and unsafe for squirrel to fall from so close to the ground where the predators are. the pecans are usually bigger sweeter and still moist sometimes, definitely worth the wait. I only gather acorns every other year. Added bonus, I get to cull the squirrel population.

Every part of the property has it's own needs and arrangements. At first I thought I was sacrificing too much, but once I learned certain things like brush pile away from the house give rodents somewhere else to stay in the winter than in your house. Also putting said brush into the arroyo will cut down on erosion and save topsoil. I don't rake until spring, by then it is a great mulch that has helped seedlings stay warm all winter. I pile it up in spring and let it melt into the yard throughout the year. Nature wastes nothing. Slowly I have begun building "islands" small areas that are a mixture of whatever blew in on the wind, native plants and certain herbs that I cultivate surrounded by a border of rocks or logs from the property or neighboring properties. These become hands off zones where I let nature do its thing. As time goes by I am learning more and more about how to integrate into the environment. A rewilding of the physical and the spiritual aspects of myself and the land.

SCHROTFLINTE ZAUBERS

 

Shotguns and sigil shoaling work on very similar principles, by firing multiple projectiles all at once you are more likely to hit the target. Take it another step and dress your shotgun shells with sigils. then make targets of the sigils themselves and fire the gun at them. Each level adds energy. I plan on doing this, but using a barrel as the target. afterwards I will cut the barrel in half and make two fire containers further adding to the enchantment.

Do not think that this is willy-nilly random firing, no just like hunting, magic works better with target practice, a calm hand, a steady eye, and breath control. You are still definitely aiming for a target, your are just increasing your odds of hitting it. This approach can also be accomplished by combining techniques, Materia, invocation, sigil shoaling, micro- and macro-enchantments, candle magic, and spirit work are all combined whenever I launch a magical campaign. Volume is the key.

Fire works and explosives are also handy for energizing sigils and releasing spells. At new years every year we set off two large strands of fireworks with prayers of prosperity and health attached. This year we used incense sticks to light them. We written sigils and intentions on balloons with corn starch in them, thrown into a fire they make fireballs. Sky rockets, bottle rockets, and roman candles can all be utilized. Shotgun Spells are about a multi pronged attack and explosive results.

IM ERDREICH 

 

It's time to get back into the underworld.Time to reacquaint with root and bone. The bare essentials of life and death. Back down into the Unterwelt, to work with Hermekate, the grand androgyne of dark alchemy, deep shadow work. My guides on this Journey will the ever present Madre Hueso, the Necro Saint, San Cipriano, and San Lazarus. Down into the earth.

Earth magic is where one finds the overlap between the sacred and the mundane. More precisely it is where you find that the mundane is the most sacred of all. The Lord of Earth, Auld Hornie, never lets you forget this and thus is feared. To accept your animal nature is the beginning of liberation, not a block against it. To get down into the dirt is to literally get down into yourself.

HEILIGE WERKZEUGE

 

I have knives to consecrate, a scythe to purchase, and a machete to bless. Every tool I possess is sacred to me. I develop a bond, a trust with my tools.  Some tools, like those previously mentioned are used for day to day matters, and others are only used for ritual purposes. Some like my zymurgy supplies and my knives transcend both worlds.

As I said at the beginning of the year, this has been the Year of Knives, and cutting year it has been, I see a very definite rift forming in global society between those aware of our global society and those who aren't. Change is inevitable and like urban coyotes, we need to adjust to our new surroundings. For the Magi, I believe that like the Cook County Coyotes we to must become like ghosts. Operating just out of sight, but our effect can still be felt. Our cunning is our best tool.

Cunning just like knives has a sharp edge that will quickly remove the unnecessary. Coupled with Knowledge , cunning becomes a multi tool and a sword at the same time. Your tool kit is comprised of many things, both physical and non material, it is important to keep them all shiny and sharp. When did you last do an inventory on your toolbox? Sometimes we find things we didn't even know we were missing.

The Apocalypse of Quantum Delights

“Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality.”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland 

I find it odd how the accepted meaning of the word apocalypse went from having a root in revelatory knowledge to one of eschatological tones. That in and of itself is a revelation. Revelation can be destructive especially when they uproot deeply held beliefs, some do not survive the journey. It helps to have some form of mythic structure in place, makes navigation a little easier. Sometimes the shifts are easier like a series of small quakes instead of one huge one and subsequent aftershocks. I am currently experiencing a small scale apocalypse, but one that is opening doors of wonderment.

A LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS

I don't have to tell you how bad things are, that's what the daily news is for; you know, the regularly scheduled programming. That's not even the full story and it's pretty grim. In between the collapsing economies and the extreme environment, there are bright shining stars, beckoning us out there into the great beyond. NASA announcing in May about there certainty of finding signs of alien life within a decade, remember President Kennedy said the same thing about going to the moon and it happened right on time. There is probably much more to this story than we are being told, as evidenced in this quote from Chief NASA Scientist, Ellen Stofan :

"We know where to look. We know how to look," she said. "In most cases, we have the technology, and we're on a path to implementing it. And so I think we're definitely on the road."

NASA knows where to look? Sounds very MIB to me, but I tend to be suspicious. Either way exciting news.It will literally change the way that humanity  views itself and its place in the universe. This sparked a renewed interest in UFOs and other high weirdness, so when Gordon started a discussion of Space Shamanry, my interest was immediately piqued.

INVOLUNTARY SHIFTS

Having been primed and open to suggestion, it does not surprise me that the next course of events unfolded as it did . It all started with a simple article about Octopuses. Basically geneticists have decided that octopuses might as well be aliens given how weird their DNA is. That dovetails nicely with several pet theories of mine.

Shortly after reading the aforementioned article about alien octopuses, I stumbled onto Gordon's list of films for Space Shamans. In the beginning I went through the list and ticked off all that I had already seen and then I compiled a list of what was left. On that list was Europa Report, I had not seen it. So I made a date with myself to watch Europa Report late at night alone. Remember the mention of Europa in the article about NASA expecting to find alien life? Yeah, it gets weirder, more synchronous. The movie is slow, but highly believable, so I stayed interested. I won't reveal everything for those that have not seen it, but I will give you a hint, tentacles.

Gobsmacked would be an understatement, this was revelation, apocalypse. Something shifted in a major way. If we are going to explore space we need to develop a mythology to guide us. Read Gordon's blog, watch the films, add to the conversation.

RETURN TO TERRA FIRMA

In days past, I would get overly excited after receiving a revelation like this, now a days my approach is much different. After a session of ritual that seems to open doors or a sudden revelation as the result of noticing the omens where they occur, I like to ground and restore myself. There are many methods for doing this, Aidan describes a particularly beautiful and rich ritual that belies its simplicity.There is power here learn to use it.

If Aidan's ritual does not appeal to you, I strongly recommend T Thorn Coyle's book Crafting A Daily Practice. This book has been very beneficial to me, daily ritual practice helps to keep me grounded and has increased my powers of concentration. Doing this practice of grounding lets me review my notes and develop an informed opinion of the mechanisms at play. This  apocalypse has lead to the discovery that two different fields of personal research may in fact only be one field. This has deep reaching implications.

Now the Mutant Mage Dirt Sorceror is left to contemplate Space Shamanry. I feel compelled to release sigils via rockets, and to study the connections between Crop circles and Magical circles. Like the Tabula Rasa of the surrealist manifests at Burning Man so to must our Sorcerous visions populate space. Perhaps we could begin now with Space Shaman Fertility Rituals. I think I will stick with the rockets.

If God's a Willing and the Creek Don't Rise

Memorial Day weekend, my family, my wife and our two kids, got trapped by rising flood waters along the San Gabriel River. This is the second time in my life that flood waters have affected me, but this time was very different. When I was about ten years old our house flooded while my brother and I were at my Dad's house, my mother faced that flood alone. This time I was fortunate enough to be trapped with one of the greatest groups of people I know. The entire experience has reshaped how I view my life and the fragility of life in general. I have learned much about LOVE and its expression when guided by WILL. So grab a cup of your favorite beverage and sit down a spell, I have a tale I want to share. I'm going to warn you, you will feel emotions, have thoughts provoked, and quite possibly learn something.

ANCESTRAL BLUES

In the heart of the Mississippi Delta in a little town called Indianola, in 1925, a boy by the name of Riley B. King was born. This is very relevant to my tale, but we will get back to that in a moment, first let us talk about the South. The Mississippi Delta like most of the South was once ruled by three things, King Cotton, free labor, and Rivers. All three of these play into my personal history as well. Cotton is still important and grown with free or practically free labor. Then it was slaves, now it's prisoners. In Texas, theses prison farms are located along rivers, the same rivers used by plantations. Those prison farms are named after the plantations that once occupied the same land. I know because back in 1989 I lived there for 14 months.

Over the Memorial day weekend I attended the first regional Burn festival established outside of Burning Man; Flipside. I actually volunteer my time to help keep the festival going. This year I worked Pre/post which means I went out early to set up and stayed after to tear down. Only it didn't quite go down like that, more on that later, let's get back to Riley King. While I was at this event I took the opportunity to enter the Land of Fey. While there I took a stroll through the city of Pyropolis to see the theme camps that had sprung up like so many Mushrooms after the rain. As I passed one camp the music they were playing called to me like a siren. A guitar named Lucille, played by B.B. King, who was born, Riley King.

Transfixed I followed the sound and found a comfortable seat with a view of a pecan tree and the sound of the river in the background. As B.B. King played I heard the muddy bottoms of rivers, and cotton fields. I remembered my Cajun Grandmothers beer joint were the blues used to play on the jukebox, back when they still had 45's in them. Lucille's siren song took me back to East Texas, to my childhood. Then the Ancestors came, marching down the road, one by one to tell me something. Each had a different message, the overarching theme was, that if I wanted to be a worthy ancestor I must follow their examples. When I inquired as to the nature of this, the reply was simple, every ancestor literally dies carving out a path for the future. The very mud spoke to me.

WHERE EARTH AND WATER MIX

From the very start this years festival was very different than any other I had attended. ( I have been doing this for 11 years now.) It wasn't the presence of the rain or even the timing, it had rained the two previous years. No it was the volume. The absolute sheer amount of rain. We have been in a severe drought for about seven years now, so rain is appreciated, just not 10 years worth in one month.Even when we end a drought in Texas, we do it in a big way. And lest you think I'm pulling your leg check this out:

There are a few quite predictable things that happen when this much water falls in one place. The first thing is mud, even the limestone caliche of the Texas Hill Country turns to mud. Mud was everywhere, at some point one gives over to it like dust on the playa. We had mud on our boots, mud on our pants, in our tents, on our faces, probably trace amounts in our food.

My Wife the Muse, informs us during the ritual of smoke that mud is really heavy emotions. Her reasoning to which I defer, goes a bit like this; Water+ Earth = Mud. Whereas water = emotional being; and Earth= Physical Being; Mud = Bodily manifested emotion. There was a more social one-on-one atmosphere, we were forced together out of the rain. Huddled together we talked and discovered new things about one another and we bonded. The rain and mud brought us together and so emotions were released. It was beautiful. I believe many of us moved through some major blockages this year. Bodily emotion could also be trauma, and I definitely talked to a few folks who were working through theirs. The mud spoke to my heart.

THE HEART OF LOVE

 

As I navigated this wondrous landscape, something amazing happened; the scales fell off my heart. LOVE was everywhere, the grass and trees were expressions of it, other people embodied it, the volunteers sacrificed some time for it. Everything that was happening was a manifestation of love that some one felt like sharing. I brought my Spirits and the traveling shrines with me, out of love. Others shared food or companionship, performed art or played pranks, stayed whimsical and supportive, while swimming through the mud.

Blood and bone, heart and sinew, something primal emerged and we found ourselves. Washed clean by the rains and reborn in the mud. All became Other and embraced one another. Tendrils of love spectrally enveloping masses of souls. We became more fluid with our identities and the boundaries of imposed society. It's all an experiment. Stolen kisses, proffered kisses, kisses of souls, all floating in the wind, softly landing on willing recipients.Embracing Huggery ensued, and minds were freed. The wine flowed, as did the mead, and hedges were crossed by many. All of this was just foreplay, the main event loomed. We were Wizards of Odd and we had a wizard to burn.

Gathered together as in days of old we waited and watched as the effigy burned. Then we reveled. the celebrations lasted well until dawn. A New Day, shining forth with promise and hope. We had gathered in LOVE directed our WILL and succeeded at the task we spent so many months building. With the flames we released our sorrows, hopes, failures, triumphs, and wishes to fly upon the embers into the night. In that moment we were one. The time had come to part. The mud had spoken to us all.

GATHERING CLOUDS

 

Every year the exodus leaves one feeling drained and exhausted, yet with a new outlook on life. This year as we prepared to get everyone out, we were warned that another major downpour, like the one we had experienced the night before, was to be expected. We got soaked the night before, but our tents and shelters held strong. I and one of the other volunteers in our camp were staying for post, so we made sure everyone got on the road before the storm. He grew up in Oklahoma and I grew up on the Texas Coast, so we were familiar with storms. We watched the clouds gather and prepared for rain. We had no idea what was coming.

During the ensuing deluge, we gathered under my EZ-up and discussed our exit strategies. We were planning to pack up everything we didn't need after the rain. In the morning, my wife would take our kids home, and I would join them later, after I finished breaking down event infrastructure. So we sat down to wait for the storm to pass. After about twenty minutes the rain suddenly stopped and the air pressure dropped so fast I felt it in my ears. We checked the sky for the green clouds that always spell doom no matter the storm. Before we could figure out what was happening, 55 Mph winds hit us and tore down pop-ups and collapsed tents. My wife put our kids in the car and we tried to prop our tent back up. We had no idea what was coming.

The winds, as I mentioned were gusting at 55 Mph and tree limbs were coming down. My wife and I decided to give up on the tent and get in the car with our kids. Safety volunteers came and told us to come with them to a safer location.The rain that came with the winds dumped 4"-6" in 45 minutes and the river was rising. The land owner had conveyed to Safety HQ that we needed to be moving people to higher ground. We spent the next 18 hours in disaster mode. During all of this my wife ended up on the opposite side of the property from me and the kids. It was a very long night. We had no idea what was going on.

GREY CLOUDS AND SILVER LININGS

 

In the midst of crisis one gets to see the true nature of people. During this ordeal I watched many people offer emotional support to others, share food, tobacco, and conversation. My children shined like Rock Stars. My daughter was so confident of the volunteers that she slept while others fretted. My son jumped in and helped put together benches and reminded people to drink water and eat snacks. I am so very proud of both of them. I am also equally impressed by the safety volunteers. These people volunteered to see this event through to the end. Many needed sleep and were preparing to go home themselves, yet they stayed on and made sure everyone was safe. Our community trains to handle situations like this, but we always hope to not need those skills. The reason these wonderful souls do this is out of love for their community. The mud binds us.

As the waters rose and fell, I thought of flood myths and their meanings. The implicit life, death, and rebirth motif. The renewal of the land with nutrients from the river bottoms. There are many flood myths from around the world, but I always liked this one from the Chitimacha of Southern Louisiana;

Long ago, a great storm came. The people baked a great earthen pot, in which two people saved themselves. Since rattlesnakes were then the friends of man, two rattlesnakes were saved in the pot, too. The red-headed woodpecker clung to the sky, but the waters rose so high they wet and marked his tail. When the waters sank, the woodpecker was sent to find land, but he could find none. The dove was sent next and came back with a grain of sand. When this grain was placed on the water, it spread out and became dry land.

Mostly I think I like it because I know these people, Rattlesnake and Woodpecker. Rattlesnake has great significance, which I promise to share at a later date, and Woodpecker has always been there. I have a fascination for the Ivory Billed Woodpecker, the stuff of legends, supposedly so big it made folks cry, "Good gawd", or "Good Lord" thus its colloquial names. Like my namesake, the Sasquatch and the Ivory Billed Woodpecker are forest guardians. They both draw people into the forest and both are found in pristine old growth woodlands.

In the same swampy bottom-lands of my youth, the Ivory Billed Woodpecker disappeared only to be sporadically spotted, but never definitively. There are other tales, blue lights in the woods at night, the Creature of Boggy Creek, and how Crawdaddy created land. All there in the bayous and creeks of East Texas.The mud binds us.

All of Texas became flood-land that weekend, and the following days. As of this writing the death toll stands at 23 with several more still missing. The most recent body was found several hundred yards away from a friends house in San Marcos. This has affected everyone, 167 of our 254 counties suffered from these floods. Experts say this is a "flood of record" that only occurs about once every 200 years. People are still cleaning up, the debris is everywhere, and everywhere there is mud. The mud binds us.

WATERS OF LIFE

Just as the waters slowly rose, covered the land, slowly retreated and left everything transformed, so too did water reassert itself into my life. Throughout the entire process I felt a vast array of emotions and yet never became so overwhelmed that I broke down. I reached the breaking point several times and had to stop and take care of myself. Thanks to my firm grounding (pun intended) in Earth Work, I was able to be a centered and focused Dirt Sorcerer. Love permeated me and I gave over to the feeling, willingly. Terror and panic tried to overwhelm me, I let them have their say and then dismissed them. I sought knowledge and fact instead of rumor and fear. Comforting others comforted me, I am a big hugger. Water slowly permeated my flesh like the flood waters took over the pecan grove. We merged, my body and my emotional self; I am more integrated. I am the mud.

Some of my earliest memories are of mud, and swampy places. Bullfrog, turtle, crawdad, and catfish were my companions when I played in the creeks. I knew them all and more importantly they knew me. In the summer we all occupied the same space. That narrow margin between water and solid earth, whether on shore, or along the bottom, it was mud. There we came together and learned about each other. We were all mud.

As I reflect upon my journey, I feel I must thank several groups of souls for all they did. First a most heartfelt thank you to all the volunteers who dedicate their time and energy out of LOVE. You are all beautiful. Thanks to my Ancestors, who reminded me of where I came from and helped me appreciate where I AM. Thanks to Saint Cyprian and Santisima Muerte for prayers answered and grace given. Mi Patron y mi matrona, mi espíritu está en sus manos. Usted llena mi corazón de alegría entusiasta. I give thanks to the Creator, for all that we have accomplished we are still the same as that first DNA strand that you formed with lightning and our raw material. We are all mud.

 

Down & Dirty

Spring is here and many are returning to the garden. I am fortunate enough to live in a climate where I garden pretty much year round. This tends to dampen my enthusiasm for spring, in this part of Texas spring is a three week precursor for the hell of summer.I actually prefer the half of the year where the temperatures drop below 90. Despite these reservations, I do still enjoy getting into the dirt.

And when I say get into dirt, I am actually inviting you sit a spell and let me bend your ear, or captivate your mind with the wonders of dirt.

Prima Materia Magica

Over at Hotel Vast Horizon, Aidan wrote about Philosophy & Theory  of Sorcery/Magic/Sacred Arts/Prayer where he uses a meadow as an analogy for the totality of experience. What struck was this snippet, "It’s full of vibrant life. Soil bacteria, microbes, fungi, teeny tiny insects & creatures from very small to huge."What I particularly love about this is the acknowledgement of the parts that make the whole. This why I consider Dirt to be Prima Materia Magica, it contains parts of the whole. Everything that ever was, is and will be started as dirt and will end up as dirt. Dirt births us, sustains us and embraces us in death, and it does so for all of life.

As people begin to tend there gardens I hope they take a moment to nurture their dirt. Dirt is a community of bacteria, fungal mycellium, and microbes. These are the things that along with minerals will help your plants grow. Love your dirt. To acquaint yourself with the primacy of dirt try this simple exercise:

1. Go outside and dig up a handful of dirt.
2. Put it in an open container.
3. Smell the dirt every morning.
4. Do this for a week.
5. Write about your experience.

Tip: If the dirt loses some of its "oomph" water it with a mister. I guarantee you will feel better just from doing this. Dirt is magical.

Dirt Magic

When it comes to dirt Magic it is hard to know where to begin, so I will start with the dirt beneath me.Quite simply dirt is the flesh of the Mother and as such a connection to her. Through this you are connected to the entire web of life and death. Since I work with both hands I will talk about how dirt can harm and heal. There are many uses of dirt in many traditions, but I will confine myself to HooDoo and Santeria, the two traditions with which I have the most knowledge and experience. 

Graveyard Dirt

This is by far the most popular dirt used in magic and it has a wide variety of uses, although the two that seem most common are protection spells and harmful spells. I personally use it in rites of necromancy amongst other things. The important thing about graveyard dirt is to obtain it in the proper manner, in HooDoo this is called buying the dirt. If you want to know more about that I strongly recommend The section on Graveyard Dirt at Lucky Mojo as a good start.You will also find information about the different types of dirt to be had in the graveyard. As an example if you are going to use graveyard dirt in a love spell (it happens), then you probably don't want collect it from a murderer's grave, that sort of thing.

Crossroads Dirt

The dirt of the Crossroads has the power of the Crossroads itself, the power to bring about change. This dirt can be used as a proxy for the Crossroads as well. A colleague keeps some on her altar, in a cauldron with a miniature stang so she can access this power at anytime. She does have to recharge with fresh dirt about once a month. Crossroads dirt is also used in protection work and banishings. On the other side it is used to "Cross" a situation or even to cause great indecision in a person. always leave an offering when taking dirt from the crossroads.

Track Dirt

Track Dirt comes from the path any animal makes in the dirt. Some dirt from the animal track will have some energy from the animal in it. In the case of all animals other than shod humans there is liminal quality to this dirt, it is literally the point of contact between that organism and the Mother. This could be used for anything from shape-shifting to spirit communion. It will depend on what animal made the track and your relationship to that animal as to how you choose to use it.

Churchyard Dirt

This is exactly what it sounds like, dirt form the grounds of a church. Again this is a dirt that is used in a variety of ways, but mainly either as a blessing or as a curse. Some also use it to communicate with Angels or Underworld Spirits. Traditionally dirt from Catholic Churches is used as most still sanctify the land before the church is built. I wonder if Synagogue dirt could be used the same way?

Other Dirts

Other Dirts are used in a contagion type of way, in that where the dirt comes from will exert influence over that energy. Some examples are:

• Bank Dirt - Prosperity
• Library Dirt - Knowledge
• Racetrack Dirt - Gambling
• Courthouse Dirt - Legal Issues

Once you begin to work with dirt, you will discover more and more ways to use it.

Geophagy 

Geophagy literally means earth eating. I have cousins in East Texas who ate dirt. I used to believe this was just some quaint southern thing, but then I found out about diatomaceous earth and bentonite clay. While researching these topics I came across a New York Times piece, Southern Practice of Eating Dirt Shows Signs of Waning, again I was confronted with the image of southerners eating dirt. More research yielded this nugget from Berthold Laufer (love that name), simply titled "Geophagy". That was written in 1930 and as far as I know, there are not many papers that attempted to present such a comprehensive picture of the practice, which is Global.

Now, however, the internet seems to be teeming with information on the topic, even mainstream news has covered the topic in a more positive light. Then I hit the Mother Lode, that kernel that had eluded me for so long, evidence of ritualistic geophagy. In section 23.3.3 (yes I like that number) of Soil and Culture , edited by Edward R. Landa, and Christian Feller, several examples are cited, most exciting is a reference to present day Guatemala. In Guatemala, small clay tablets are baked with crosses and other symbols and consumed in much the same way as the Host in communion. At Esquipulas Basilica, pilgrims gather to venerate Christo Negro, or the Black Christ. Kaolin clay, which is used in Kaopectate, is baked into the aforementioned clay tablets and consumed.

I personally incorporate geophagy into some of my rites. It gives me a certain connectedness to works involving earth energies, and aids in shape-shifting. I have used diatomaceous earth and bentonite clay, both with profound effects. When it comes to geophagy, I say, "Eat Dirt!"

Using Dirt

In addition to geophagy there are other ways one can incorporate dirt into their practice. Some of the methods I use are Point of Contact, Powders(Polvos), and Sachets. Each of these techniques is useful in different ways and I will attempt to briefly describe each.

A point of contact is a magical link, which works along the lines of quantum entanglement. To connect to the power of a place take some dirt. This technique is more powerful if it comes from a place of power. Always when taking dirt ask permission. Of whom? The spirits of the land, the crossroads, the graveyard, and sometimes the property owner. This why dirt is powerful, is stores energy, it is the ground of all things.

Powders, polvos en Español, are made with herbs, magnetic sand, salt, cobwebs, dirt, seeds, seashells, and anything else that can be ground up into a powder. Normally one uses an odd number of ingredients, the reasoning behind this is intriguing. Basically even numbers are balanced or settled, whereas an odd number is active or unbalanced. In order to push a work you must upset the way things are and shape how things will be. Information on this is everywhere, but I strongly recommend Catherine Yronwode's big green book, Hoodoo Herb and Root Magic: A Materia Magica of African-American Conjure. You leave powder anywhere you believe your mark will be.

Sachets, mojo bags, and nation bags work on similar principles, but for different reasons, do a search you'll find all sorts of information. Just start reading Hoodoo in Theory and Practice by Catherine Yronwode at the aforementioned Lucky Mojo. One either starts with a cotton or flannel (sometimes silk) drawstring bag, picking a color suitable to the work. Certain items are added to the bag, again in odd amounts. The bag is then fed over time. This involves either oils or powders being applied to or into the bag. This bag is carried to bring the work directly to the person.

I am sure there are many more ways to work with dirt, I have only scratched the surface. The key as always, is to experiment and communicate with your guides. They will show you things about dirt you never imagined. Right there in the garden and at your feet the most profound of the Mysteries; Dirt.

This is the trailer for Dirt! the movie, if you have not seen it, please do, it will change everything about how you see dirt. Life's a garden, dig it.

Pearls and Swine

"Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you." –Attributed to the Nazarene

PORK

Aaah, the delicious pig. I'm sorry if you do not enjoy swine-flesh, I do not mean to offend. That being said I am going to defend the pig a bit, for I feel there is no better totem for earth as the pig. Both revered and feared, the pig has a rich history and a long association with magic, the underworld, and fertility of the land. Pigs are not what I want to talk about, but rather pork. Pork was always a meat of luxury, raising a pig was like raising a child and used about the same amount of resources. As a result of the expenditure incurred when one decided to raise a pig, its meat was reserved for special occasions; Seasonal Feasts, Holy Days, Celebrations, etc. Pig is an embodiment of the fertile Earth, Pork is communion. Ultimately that is my aim, communion.

I have felt very connected lately to a very international community of people dedicated to the various currents of the Craft as expressed by traditional methods. It pleases me that more and more often I am reading blog-posts and articles, listening to pod-casts, and participating in discussions stressing the importance of  Thaumaturgy. I feel very strongly that the Western Tradition has spent far too long venerating Theurgy and the Logos. Hoary praise for the PIG, meanwhile ignoring the pleasure of  bacon. I feel that some of the aforementioned conversations have been a bit one-sided, always a call to use physical components to ritual, but ignoring the actual thaumaturgic work that various members of the craft are manifesting. My earth work has deepened my appreciation of Sacred Artists, Hexenkrafters, Wort Cunners, and Rebel Saints. It is my intention during this Year of Knives, to highlight individuals and organizations that are making manifest their Sacred Vision. Yes honey, I'm bringing home the bacon.

 PEARLS

Prolonged Earth work has led me to new depths, and encounters with serpentine energies of a most primal nature. Strange thoughts have occupied my mind, I am indeed being educated by Tutelary Spirits. St. Cyprian opens the doors, makes the introductions, and offers suggestions for improved technique. I know this energy, it has worn many guises in my own life, this is what make me think. St Cyprian, Old Horny, Ganapati, Hekate, Santisima Muerte, and Babalon all overlap to some degree in their aspects. More like nodes on a spectrum rather than completely differentiated from one another. Again and again I find this to be true across traditions, techniques and religions. There are certain energy forms that manifest around humans across millennia that seem to exhibit the same strange and interesting properties.

The Snake or rather the Serpent, for instance, occupies many niches in folklore and spirituality, but

they all exhibit similar properties. Most interesting is that the part of our brain that is called reptilian, is where one will find Serpent Wisdom. One can also find the serpent Kundalini coiled at the base of the spine. Like wise in the depths of the underworld one can find the Cosmic Serpent that encircles All. These are Mysteries laid out in plain sight, much as the magic of dirt is often ignored, so too the Sacred Mundane is neglected. The Serpent Path is the Crooked Path and there is wisdom in this. The Way of the Witch is a meandering way, and sometimes there is no path at all, merely an exploration through the brambles and boggy creek bottoms. Just like the Serpent.

Cthonic Spirits and serpentine energies, these are my companions on the path through my Earth work. The treasures I gain are manifest as well as transcendent. I will soon begin introducing you to others who make the transcendent manifest, those who not only work the Materia Magica, but actually make the Magica Materia. 

Waking Dragons

Wild Iris Sasquatch Jones 2015

Get comfy, no I mean it, this a long ride, but we will stop occasionally...

Postcards From Naraka

Bursting Forth Sasquatch Jones 2015

It has been a while since I last did this, so be patient and I will be as gracious a host as I can. Those who have been reading my posts for a while will know that I have been engaged in a year long Earth Working, by which I mean that I am engaged in many workings that are all related to the elemental aspects of Earth. Like many of my kin, I first learned about the Witchcraft Revival through Buckland's Big Blue Book (4B), then explored other avenues. This has resulted in my associating winter with earth as many Wiccans do. Even though I passed by Wicca nearly twenty years ago, the imprint is strong. Over the years I have always turned inward during winter and devoted this time to intense study. This winter is no different, except that the depths I have reached far outpace anything I have done before, that and I may have awakened a dragon. More on that later.

This winters studies have been aided by many sources and I would like to share a few with you. I will start with books, because I always do. Pod-casts have been very instrumental to my studies this winter, I will tell you about my favorites. Blogs of course are always on the menu, but there a re a few notable articles that I will invite you to read. Finally I want to share some music and recommend a movie. Then I will tell you all about the Dragon.

Ocultas Libros

I have read so many books as of late that I decided to only review the titles I have finished. I am only going to give the title, the author and a brief impression of what I liked and/or disliked. I am not a book reviewer, but I do love to share knowledge, so perhaps this will give you some inspiration.

The Magical and Ritual Use of Herbs, by Richard Alan Miller- If you walk the Poison Path as I do, this little book is very handy. Written like a field guide with identification, history, chemistry, preparation, etc., this is about as stripped down as a technical manual. In fact that is exactly what it is, a Technical Magical Field Guide. I strongly endorse this book. Thanks to Sarah Anne Lawless for recommending this one.

Plant Spirit Shamanism, by Ross Heaven and Howard G.Charing- Both Ross Heaven and Howard G. Charing have a considerable body of work between them (which I highly recommend if you work plant spirits), so I was happy to find this book co-authored by these two, with a foreword by Pablo Amaringo as a bonus. I love this book. First each author shares from the traditions they are most familiar with, which allows one to find points of intersection between differing traditions, hinting at that old Ur-sorcery beneath all things. Then just to ice the cake they introduce herbs from the Western Traditions that correspond not by chemistry but by energy, by Spirit. If you work with plant spirits reading this book can inform your work.

Pharmako Gnosis: Plant Teachers and the Poison Path, by Dale Pendell- What everyone else says about this book is true, put it into your library today. Unless you already own it.

The Sorcerer's Secrets, by Jason Miller- This book impressed me so much I signed up for the Strategic Sorcery course, this will be my first foray into Formal Magical Training. The results so far, just from reading the book, are noticeable. This tome will improve your work regardless of your path.

Mandala Sasquatch Jones 2015

The Vision and the Voice

I am just going to recommend three pod casts series I have enjoyed over the last few weeks. The first is HedgeFolk Tales, by Sarah Anne Lawless. Great lore and interpretation from a wonderfully witchy perspective. Next is the Crooked Path Pod-cast by the late Peter Paddon. There is a wealth of information here that is passed in the Old Way, as oral tradition, truly a treasure. Finally, Lamplighter Blues, with Dean and Doctor Hob. I love Doctor Hob's voice, and his depth of knowledge is wonderful. If you are interested in HooDoo or Conjure, check this out.

Intermission

Words of Inspiration

I am a reader, hands down my favorite mental activity. I read blogs because I love the way they are like an ongoing conversation between several people. I love watching the way certain ideas will get amplified and contemplated by different minds, absolutely beautiful. Upon Westminster Bridge, by Gordon White over at Rune Soup offers up a meditation upon this very subject. Since I brought up Rune Soup be sure to check out the following two installments, Teaching Birds How to Fly and The Other Avian Flu.

Tres Senoras Sasquatch Jones 2015

Can Witchcraft be civilized? I find that Nicolaj de Mattos Frisvold addresses the question rather nicely over at the Starry Cave.This dovetails nicely with my Year of Knives foci. These are the posts that have me thinking, for something that inspires in a different way, try Sailor on the Seas of Fate, The Orphans Almanac, or Rue and Hyssop.

The Devil's Own

When I was growing up in the late seventies and early eighties, in East Texas, many Baptist preachers were still turning coin preaching about the evils of Rock-n-Roll and Hollywood. Needless to say, but I was a lost cause. I have always loved secular music, but a few pagan musicians have helped me appreciate the value of spiritual music. Wendy Rule's Black Snake, is amazing, her voice is sultry and this album highlights that. Infernal Proteus is for the Krautnerden (Herb Nerds) amongst us, not always the greatest music in my opinion but I like it.

On Netflix, Daniel Radcliffe stars in Horns, totally entertaining murder mystery with a twist. Pop some corn and enjoy your evening.

Intermezzo

Here There Be Dragons

I have been treading the mill for some time now to depths I have never been. Something compels me onward ever downward, the pressure on my ears is painful and the heat is almost unbearable. Then darkness and silence envelopes me. Something is here, alive. Massive, its energy hits me like a wall. It smells of copper and soot, but mostly of serpent. It is aware...of me.

Symbiotes Sasquatch Jones 2015

"Hoomaan, dare you to disturb me?", it hisses.

"I beg your pardon, I meant no offense", I reply.

"How do you come to be here?", questions the thing in the depths.

"Exploring" say I.

"What are you looking for?" it asks.

"Knowledge", my response.

It laughs. IT. LAUGHS.

"You will gain so much more", it assures me.

"Thank you." 

I awaken beneath my tree, cold,wet and achy, the weather has turned. Time to go back inside. I never  had a visual, but I know this was a dragon. Wrapped around the base of my skull the whole time. 

The Roots

As the world turns towards spring for the Northern Hemisphere and autumn for the Southern Hemisphere, I begin to rise from fallow slumber and join the coming chorus of life bursting forth. Upwards I ascend with knowledge plumbed from the depths, this dirt is fertile. The dandelions are blooming, I have work to do.

Lots'o'luck Sasquatch Jones 2015

Rambling Thoughts from a Rambling Man

"Lord, I was born a ramblin' man
Tryin' to make a livin' and doin' the best I can
And when it's time for leavin', I hope you'll understand
That I was born a ramblin' man"- The Allman Brothers

Standing at the crossroads is always an anxiety inducing experience. Choosing a path always means sacrificing another, and yet no growth happens without it. Once again I have come to a place where I must pack my bags and move on. It's always sad leaving the familiar behind and moving into uncertainty, yet this is evolution at its core. So once again it is time for leaving.

This last year has been one of incredible growth and maturation for me. Honestly feel as if this is the first time since I was a child that I have had so much optimism about the future and my place in it. That being said, it has been a hard year, Death came too often, loss and faith became my zeitgeist, the world of patriarchy is in total disarray and it is NOT going down alone, uncertainty is the new average. Despite the unrelenting horror of the consensus reality, I have found my inner light and dared to begin showing it to the world, and I have received Philosophers Gold in return. This year I have found a renewed relationship with familiar spirits, met many other wonderful lights shining forth, and discovered the indwelling magic that I have always had.

There are far too many people to thank them all but a few notables stand out and I feel I should mention them individually. First of all, my wife, Shining Star of Love, Misty Dawn, I couldn't make it without you, but this year you gave me the gift of possibility, I am forever in your debt. Secondly, my Brother Jeff, you are the only other one who was "there, way-back when", I Love You beyond words. Aidan Wachter, I feel as if you are a long lost soul brother, More often than I can count your words struck a chord, I wholeheartedly look forward to our continued acquaintance. Flint Fancy, my Soul Sister, we far too close to see each other so rarely, but I treasure every moment. Recently I have met other wonderful people doing amazing things, to all the new members of Black Moon Lodge, Prosit! Last but not least thank you, Kash Mira, your random gift restored my faith in humanity.

Down in the graveyard, I leave my tributa por Santisima Muerte, I will miss all those I lost this year. Most notably my Grandmother, my root, green muse, and giver of unconditional LOVE, the pain of your passing is negated by my love for you. Enjoy the Summerlands, mein Großmutter, your are a light in the darkness. My mentor in so many ways, Wesley Nations, you are still me teaching through your words, I feel honored to have known you. Peaceful journeys brother, you will always be part of Mi Familia, this hole is gonna hurt for awhile. Back to the Crossroads. 

Sometimes the hardest thing to give up is self defeat, in a world that tries to rob you of your light at every turn, giving up is just too damn easy. This is what the "civilized" world teaches, us to be afraid, not cautious; insecure rather than self-reliant; that we are isolated, not part of a community, this is all false.Nature herself teaches us that we are all connected. What affects part has an effect upon the whole. So here at this crossroads I leave behind Convenience Culture and the Soul Death it hides behind a veil of Stuff. Good-bye to snuff films masquerading as news, to value menus that offer sloth and gluttony, to the soul sucking that we call the Engines of Commerce. I turn my back to thee.

Now, I embark upon a different path with companions, virtual, spiritual and corporeal to share the journey. My seeds have been planted, and my roots sustain me. My greatest Love of the year aside from my Soul Twin, Misty Dawn, has been Dirt. More than a goddess, generative and nurturing like  a mother, and giving like a lover, she sustains us all. I am completely and utterly enthralled with her presence. Yes I love Dirt. Her smell, her feel, her warmth all excite something ancient within me. All of her children have also caught my attention. My brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, and cousins, live amongst more than human people; animal people, tree people, rock people, plant people, and even land spirits, are all part of Mi Familia.

My seeds are developing roots. When I remember times in the garden with my Grandmother, I recall her stories. I know now that those charming superstitions were folk magic from long ago, some of them stilled used by Hoodoos today. Folklore and fairy tales from her ancestral home, Germany. Often I wonder if when she called me a "heathen", if this wasn't passed down to remind us of our roots. How did that start and why? She told me about the myths of the "Old People", but she was a devout Methodist. Ancestral memory is a funny thing and like all seeds it grows differently depending on the medium. When an elder passes, everyone in their community keeps a different aspect of that person alive within them, in this sense we become elevated beyond what we once were. We become amplified.
I dwell in a strange cultural crossroads, inheritor of ancestral wisdom from Northern Europe, nurtured by Santeria and Hoodoo, blossoming into a personal gnosis that is as transcendent as it is pragmatic. It keeps coming back to the plants, which is what this all about, plants. Metaphorically I have been planting seeds, but literally I am preparing seed cups, gathering seeds, and planning my forest garden. It is not my first foray into gardening, but this time I have different allies and much different intention.

Hopefully by fall I will be offering a unique line of whole herb products from seeds to roots and everything in between. I assure you that if all works out you will not find many products like mine. every step of the process will be done with intention and attention. Intention to produce the most potent herbal materia magica, whether for physical, mental or spiritual wellness. I will achieve this through attention to herb lore, Kraut Kraft, astrological, and magical associations. Many of you create herbal products with these intentions, perhaps I can provide you with raw material that has been as carefully grown. Just planting a seed.

And finally I leave you with a few links to one of my favorite subjects, Santa was a Shaman:

SANTA SHROOMS

SIBERIAN SHAMAN ORIGINS OF SANTA

SHAMANIC ORIGINS OF SANTA

Seeds of Possibility

Black Moon 23, Copyright 2013, Sasquatch Jones

Seeds. Genesis in a capsule. A seed contains everything to grow, bloom, and produce progeny. From humble beginnings, eh? Let it come to pass that this article will contains seeds with such power. That is my goal here to plant seeds, ideas, or memes, into as many fertile souls as I can. This is a working given to me, to set free into the world, whose full manifestation is beyond my imagination. Much in the same way as one cannot see a tree no matter how hard one stares at an acorn. But first let me tell you a story.

A Story of the Earth

Pom ov Possumbility, Copyright2014, Sasquatch Jones

I have been in the Earth. Deep into the Earth, die Unterwelt, at the roots of it all. I have been given gifts, seeds to share. Between meditations on death, Geist Arbeit, heart chakra openings, and a growing community of support, I have been blessed with a amazing gift. I present the Pomegranate of Possibility, infinitely filled with juicy kernels of wisdom, each containing a seed full of infinite possibility. From the fertile soil, which is the flesh of the Goddess herself, comes a gift from the Underworld, but be forewarned, once you eat of this fruit, you will never be the same.

I am tapping into roots. The first thing  to emerge from a seed  is the root. The roots provide sustenance to the emerging plant, that is how life begins, our roots sustain us. Working roots, whether vegetable or ancestral, always gives  sustenance to new work. I venerate the dead, as the song says, pray for the dead and the dead will pray for you. Some of them are personal, others are Elevated Ancestors, but all of them inform my work and provide me with sustenance, as all friends and allies do. As we pass through this Season of Earth, remember your roots, draw upon their strength.

Feast Upon Possibility

While tapping into my roots, I began remembering stories my Grandmother told me, and something started to stand out. When my Grandmother was a girl, most of the businesses in her hometown were owned by people who lived in her hometown. Think about it. A community supporting each other. That is what we are all seeking is it not? Most of us give far too much of our earnings to Corporations, large faceless and invested with far too much power. We have the power to change that and we are, every time you give your money to independent business people and artisans you are voting for a better world. Did I lose you?

Queen of the Crossroads, Copyright 2013, Sasquatch Jones

Consider for a moment our consumer culture as it goes through its Annual Orgy of Excess. Every dollar spent at a major retailer, gives more power to the lobbies that the owners of those companies give donations. So your dollars end up exerting influence in the true political system. When you buy from Independent Business People you subvert this system. I am not naive enough to believe that this is all it takes to save the world, but it could be the beginning of an alternative economy. You never know what will grow from a seed, but if you plant enough, you will always bear fruit. So vote for a better world by supporting superior craftsmanship, independence, and the reality you wish to manifest.

Share the Love

If you don't know where to start check out some of my favorites from around the way.

HOUSE OF ORPHEUS
LONE STAR BOTANICALS
WOLF & GOAT
NATURAL MAGICK SHOP
TVEIR HRAFNAR
THREE CATS AND A BROOM
CAULDRON CRAFT ODDITIES

Underneath the Snow a Seed Grows

Every seed is also a Snowflake. You might be planting beans or okra, but how each seed manifests will depend upon the experiences it has. No two are the same. Again I am planting seeds and waiting for manifestation. The fruits of past plantings are harvested, and being enjoyed. Others are only beginning to bear fruit. Return to the Pomegranate of Possibility as often as you need, its inspiration is infinite. Plant your seeds, and dig into your roots, good things await you.

Heathen Brujo, Copyright 2013, Sasquatch Jones

Ancestral Seas and Finding Ground

This Thanksgiving is one I will not soon forget, as it was book-ended by Death.. The day before I learned that my friend, mentor, and Green Muse, Wes Nations, a.k.a. Johnny Vagabond, had died due to complications from liver disease. Learning form my Grandmothers passing, I cried this out instead of holding it in. There is still much to process, but only time can heal, now. The harder death was to come the day after thanksgiving. Our cat, Elvira, sweet guardian of our front porch, was attacked and killed by a stray dog. Wes's passing was hard and unexpected, my cat's violent and brutal, many thanks I have been giving for this fragile gift of life. At this point in the year, after so many passings I have come to a place of acceptance with it all, after all isn't death just another Faceless God? I feel more determined than ever to continue planting my seeds.

As I have mentioned before, Santisima Muerte told me to seek out Saint Cyprian. What I did not know was his connection to the ancestral seas. Conjure Man Ali, describes it pretty well at his blog, so follow this link for more details. During this Season of Letting Go, I have come to learn much about a life less ordinary, but never in my wildest dreams have I imagined such depths as I found within myself this year. Wisdom comes at a high price sometimes, and sometimes it drips from the heavens like honey rain, sometimes it does both. This is one of those times and my Bendicion de San Cipriano has been the bridge that holds it all together. My next step is to follow the ritual at Conjure Man Ali's site, I will report what happens. 

It all comes back to the Earth, the Primal Magic that is literally right beneath your feet.This dirt that we taken for granted, this mundane miracle of the everyday, sustains all life and death upon this rock we call home. From the remains of untold ancestors, we grow new life that one day will feed and sustain future generations of life. All through the dirt, the root of all sorcery, right there on the ground, the most powerful Materia Magica of Mother, her very flesh. What has more generative power? What else contains a bit of all that has been? What else is the foundation of all that is? There's even dirt at the bottom of the ocean.There it is, I have found ground again, and with it a renewed sense of  Dirt Sorcery and Ur-Sorcery.

Just how amazing is our day to day, this that is taken for granted.The everyday, the mundane is what sustains everything we do. So many days wasted, looking for that which is at hand, the Holy Land. Santa Terra, her face can only be seen from space, but you can know her simply by lying down upon the ground. I venerate her as a lover does the object of their affection. We have ongoing relationship, and as with any lover I choose to protect and nurture her, this is what it means to be Ecosexual.

I have sailed upon the Sea of Sorrow, through the treacherous Straits of Grief, to nearly drown in the(en)Gulf(ed) of Depression, but here at last I have found ground. With Granny Vagabond, I will plant my seeds, in the most primal Magic I know, Dirt. I will Give Voice to what I know and keep the knowledge alive. As my mentor, and dear friend, Wes Nations used to say about Entheogenic Plants, the more love you give now, the more love you'll receive later.This it seems is true of all things.