It is time we face some ugly truths about ourselves. Contrary to what many believe, this country was not founded to protect individual freedom. It was founded by religious zealots, criminals, venture capitalists, and slave traders. The intention behind the constitution was to protect the vested interests of those early power-mongers. Fortunately, people learned to hack this tool of the state towards true freedom. The quest for freedom is an always evolving pursuit. In my opinion, the surest path to this freedom is the self directed spirituality called witchcraft by so many today.
The descendants of those self righteous bigots, can be found in today's surveillance state, the Congress, Wall Street, and corporate boardrooms. Equality is a buzzword for equal deprivation. The reason they called it a trickle down economy is because we only get a trickle down here. Have you seen Mad Max? We are in the same boat, trapped between Bullet Farm, Gas Town, and Water and Power. There is no Utopia on the horizon, we must stake our claim here. Those in power fear us, "We the people", and use everything at their disposal to divide and conquer. Ask yourself, who is benefiting from homophobia, sexism,racism, class-ism, and religious bigotry?
Divide and conquer has always been the game. How do we address this? What is the proper response to Power when that power is waiting for an excuse to use all the weaponry it protects itself with. This is Peter Grey's perspective, Beneath the Rose, read it and then come back. There are things I agree with in this article and some things I strongly disagree with. First I do agree that secrecy is the greatest tool a Mutant Mage can have in this day and age. I also agree with the call to return to visceral experience of magic and the world in general. The late Peter Paddon also believed strongly in the execution of Visceral Magic. Before I get into my issues with the article, I would like to address a side issue. I have come to the firm conclusion that although I find some of the ideas expressed in the Traditional Witchcraft circles, I personally am not enough of an anglophile to follow this path. I prefer more homegrown esoteric traditions. One of the many reasons I refer to myself as a Sacred Artist, or Mutant Mage. I am a Twenty First Century American who works with magic.
The main problem I have is the most obvious, going on the internet to argue that the internet is to persuasive is a bit, well hypocritical. Just like all the TV preachers in the late 80's and early 90's, railing on and on about the evils of television. Whenever some one uses the medium they profess to be opposed to, I am immediately slightly dubious. What would Mr. Grey have to benefit from this double-blind? The same thing as every other person doing it, a captive audience guaranteeing a steady income stream. Kind of like the anti-capitalist that sell anti capitalist books, for capitalist dollars. I do not begrudge one making a living, in fact I do not believe that capital and freedom are contradictory. The democratization of capital has lead to far more good than harm. It is the concentration of capital that causes problems. What is the solution? Magical Activism.
Build large street theatre puppets of political and religious figures and race them in the parks. Flood the Internet with nudity, not pornography, plain old nudity, especially nipples. Flood Facebook with male nipples to counter the absurdity. Big Data is running experiments to control human behavior, use social media to run your own experiments. Counter measure the countermeasures, information technology lends itself to chaos and discord, help it. Meanwhile build cabals and communes both physical and virtual with like minded individuals. Everything is spectacle and theatre now, Break The Proscenium. Perform public curses on your state capital steps, they are doing it to you inside, most of all engage the public. Be a clown for Lucifer.
I see I have struck a nerve, that name, Lucifer gets a lot of peoples goats, so to speak. I believe this may be due to confusion between Sataniel (satan), and Lucifer. Lucifer is an old Roman god, the light bringer, and he was a twin, his brother is Noctifer, the dark bringer. Lucifer has gotten a bad rap for a long time, all because the Roman Catholic Church does not like competition with its brand. Sataniel was the fallen angel who dared to rebel against God and received his own kingdom as a reward. I do not want to get bogged down in a discussion on Lucifer, one can find plenty of info online. Oh, and the aforementioned Mr. Grey has a book on the subject, if that's your sort of thing.
Ultimately the goal is freedom, personal freedom won out of love and respect for your fellow beings. We are evolvers and so we must evolve always being a Mutant Mage, use science and finance, buy a 3D printer, become a bio-hacker, study sorcery, play RPG's IRL, stay one step ahead, and laugh. If Tank Girl and Delerium have not joined your pool of inspiration it's time to invite them in. I use the methods that work for me; subterfuge, secrecy, outlandishness, and the dead. My ancestors lead me, folk catholic saints sustain me, Rebel Saints inspire me, Hoodoo and Santeria inform me, and angels comfort me. I am a dreamer, a mystic, a spirit warrior, sacred artist, and spirit guide. Above all others I am a Mutant Mage.
This place.
I ask again, the answer is the same.
This place.
I have lived on this land for eight years now, but it only began to speak to me about two and a half years ago. This place, is only my interpretation of the vibratory sensation that pulses through me from the ground. The first time it spoke to me I was naïve enough to believe that I understood. Days later I went to talk to the land again, but at first I thought I misunderstood.
This time the tone was different, yet still familiar. At last I thought I understood, I was in a different place so that would account for the difference. I could have not been more wrong. The next weekend I returned to my original spot and began again to speak with this place, again it was different but somehow the same . Over a period of months I came to realize some very special things about this place.
First lesson I learned was about temporal relationships. This came to light after conversations at different times of day. Time is as intrinsic as space to this place, time and space are not separate. This place was as much a time specific event as it was a space specific event. This wisdom has lead to major shifts in all of my relationships. Just as this place and all that inhabit it, including me, are corporeal and spiritual in nature, so too is all of Creation.
I began to discern two distinct vibratory sensations; like a sound that you hear with your bones. The low background drone that is always there I have come to call the spirit of the land. The tonal variations and differing energy frequencies I have begun to think of as the spirit of place. This place is both two distinct aspects, each unique in itself, yet completely inseparable. This undifferentiated duality encompassing the whole relates directly to the shamanic and Taoist worldview, there is no true "other". We are all here together. This profound truth continues to reshape my vision of Universe.
OTHER PLACES
"Yes, the long memory is the most radical idea in
this country. It is the loss of that long memory
which deprives our people of that connective flow
of thoughts and events that clarifies our vision, not
of where we're going, but where we want to go."
Bruce "Utah" Phillips 1935 - 2008
Spanish Oak Sasquatch Jones 2015
There are things that have been long forgotten, and they live on, in the land . The land does not forget, it remembers all that is, and how that shapes all that is becoming. The land has a long memory. Learning to speak to the land and more importantly to listen to the land will give one access to that long memory. This knowledge will open more doors than all the libraries in the world. I personally believe this due to the physical nature of this practice. You must actually go out into the world and interact with it to gain entry to this vault of knowledge.
There are places that sing with power and crowds flock to them. This is all well and good, but I know secret places, places that only those who know This Place can enter. There are many such places, but to find them one must develop a relationship with the land they belong to. When This Place first opened up and let me enter the imaginal realms, I was immediately cognizant of the similarities and differences between this realm and descriptions I had read of Fey realms.
Geography affects relation to spirit as much as time, whereas the Realm of Fey is universal it's manifestation is definitely local. My wife has told me several times about the Sasquatch that live here. I will not go into a lengthy discussion about the physicality of these guardian spirits, I will simply say they are real in the same sense that all Faerie are. The first one I met resembled a bear in build, but its face was clearly sasquatch, and it had horns like a goat. There are others here, hobs and gobs, but not quite like the ones you find in European lore. More earthy, and bony, like armadillos. Buffalo, and Bear, long gone are remembered and live on. Many of the people who once lived here, are still represented by their spirit, the land, like the body, never forgets.
There are others here too, angels, for lack of a better term. The form that appears to me most often, and seems to be THE Guardian Angel of this place, resembles a black-jaguar headed man, with enormous wings of rainbow colored flame. His presence is fiery and fierce like midsummer sun. He likes meat, and rainwater. This is a wild spirit, we never meet indoors. He belongs to the land. Others come and go, like Shadow Rabbit, and the Sun Sprites. None of this will make sense unless you have been to This Place, but the place you find will be different because it is not This Place.
The majority of my work over the last few years has been with the spirits of This Place and the land itself. When I said that I had spent a year and a day in the Earth, in many ways that was quite literal. My work could not happen and would be incomplete without this relationship. Everything is connected from the most mundane to the most fantastic. Here there are realms within realms all overlap and informing one another Holoarchically. This Place exists in many times and spaces and they are all This Place. This Place has a very long memory.
STEWARSHIP
Baby Bur Sasquatch Jones 2015
I have been lazy in the most productive way. My garden has lain fallow for two years now, I only garden in containers. My yard is a garden in the most magical of ways, wild edible, useful and magical plants have sprung up all over my yard. I have entered into a relationship with the land. I have studied its microbiomes and it has given me instruction on how to be a better steward. A forest garden is my next major project with this land. I will mimic the natural processes at work at This Place and restore the land and garden it at the same time.
This land was once cleared for cattle grazing, for the last 30 years there has been a community here and people have reintroduced trees to the environment. This lead me to idea of working with land to create an environment that was managed and yet followed the natural variations and rhythms of This Place.The initial step involves letting the high side of the property return to woodland. The squirrels have been remarkably helpful, I now have a small forest of oaks, mesquite, and pecan, covering the front of the property. This transitions into grassland as the land slope towards an arroyo seco. It is important to keep this open because of flash floods.
Pecan Seedling Sasquatch Jones 2015
More long range projects include improving the drainage in arroyo to minimize erosion. Farther down the line, a retention pond is in the works. The retention pond would be unnecessary if my neighbors had not filled the arroyo's course through their property. It has created a far worse flooding problem. No worries, studying the lay of the land form my roof in winter I have discerned the natural water course and how to counteract my neighbors stupidity. Added bonus, more biodiversity, more complexity to This Place. We evolve together This Place. Much as the Basque is identified by his etxe, so to does This Place inform who I am. This Place and I work towards the same goals, and we both benefit from the relationship. This did not happen because I asked the land to bend to my will, no this happened because I asked the land what it willed and how I could help.
Today is the solstice that occurs in June. What that means depends on what hemisphere you live on. For those of us in the Northern Hemisphere today is the day with the longest amount of daylight during this solar cycle. For the southies, shortest. As I write this I am relaxing in the tub at 10:35 a.m. local time.
Noon local time, coffee and breakfast tacos are secured. Hearty debate about the merits of turtles versus tortoises. Followed by a discussion about the TMNT. I love my kids.
12:24 p.m. I have a pipe. Now I contemplate the mysteries. Most obvious to my mind is the solar aspect of today. Immediately I think of Helios, with whom I have only begun working. Always felt solar archetypes were too masculine for me. Well I was wrong about Helios, he has interesting friends. For instance he associated with Saturn, Hermes, and Hekate. This is a dynamic I plan to explore more over the next year or so.
1:05p.m. The coffee has whiskey in it now. The kids are playing in the lawn sprinkler. Storm clouds are rolling in from the east. The last thing we need is more rain. The ground is so wet that every new round of showers brings flooding. Nothing like Memorial Day but one tires of the news.
Back to the Sol Father discussion but first an apology. I have neglected my blog for a while, but it is because I have been very busy, in the actual world. I have been blessed with many projects and responsibilities, overwhelming at times but manageable none the less. I am going to experiment with weekly posts on Sunday evenings. Yes it will be Sasquatch's Sunday Evening Post.
My daughter interrupts to let me know that the children are doing a rain dance, just for practice.
Last night I had the strangest dreams. Possibly due to the flying ointment I liberally applied to my person. I was given instructions for my Hermes/Helios Mutation Ritual. This will begin a major campaign to align several different works into one master work. The end result will be a presentation of Post Millennial Folk Magic.
This will be based on my own experiences and some of others I know perhaps an anthology will be in the works. My personal path includes Hoodoo Folk Magic that I learned growing up in East Texas and has been expanded by the works of Hyatt and Yronwode, amongst others. I have also picked up some Santeria along the way. Almost like the protestant and catholic traditions they sprang from the regions where these traditions are practiced are divided geographically and culturally. In addition to these I use chaos magic techniques in the manner of Genesis P-Orridge, and William S. Burroughs.
2:36 p.m. Time for another pipe. The methods of which I speak mainly consist of using technology along the lines of folk magic. Photographs altered to reflect desired outcome, videomancy, cut up audio divination and ritual reinforcement techniques, and collage sigils to activate dormant psychic abilities all fall into what I consider Post-Millennial Folk Magic. The practitioner of such arts also has a penchant for tradition and uses it as a guidepost for technique. So along this path you will meet Hoodoo Hepcats, Wily Witches, Sexy Sorcerers, and Mutant Mages, these are my people. Not content to pursue theurgy alone, these Rebel Saints challenge convention and produce tangible magic. It matters not one iota if they are working with botanicals, metals, alchemical preparations, or internal combustion, they are all magicians of the highest order.
3:34 p.m. Time for a nap. Good day so far, excellent time to recharge the batteries this evenings festivities.
4:27 p.m. Nap time over. Final reflections before I make my preparations for this evening. There is no dress rehearsal, we only get one shot, make it count. Those of us who engage in the Sacred Arts must be wary of critics that claim a wrongness to our methods. Authenticity always shines above rote repetition. Esoteric wisdom has always been misinterpreted by the exoteric school, stay strong and love with all your soul. In this time and place we all borrow from one another, there is no pure path, only profane truths. We are all Mutant Mages in the end, each of us developing new ways of looking at old traditions and creating new wisdoms for future study. Do not be content to simply repeat what has been done, step off of the path, go into the woods...
At some point we must all confront the reality that we were only "practicing" magic and now we must make some magic. It is a hard transition for some, and others still never find their own voice. There is only one way to make magic happen, you must go out and do what is necessary, to paraphrase Robert Cochrane. This is always true whether you cook bread or make hot-rods.The magic is in the Doing. Hope your day went well and that you enjoyed whatever activities you engaged in to mark the occasion. Lechyd!
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.
Originally when I decided to join the conversation started by Briana Saussy in her blogpost, Seeming Being, and the Courage to go Deeper, and continued by Aidan Wachter in his response, A Beautiful Light?, I thought I was going to write about the land I live on. Many unanticipated circumstances, however, have intervened and lead me to different place. First I did some Hedge-crossing on May Day Night. I then concluded my year and a day Earth ritual series, followed up by a massive working with both St. Cyprian and Santisima Muerte. Every step of the way illusions were shattered, expectations exceeded, and my sense of "being" tested.
FIRST STEPS
I first questioned the seeming nature of reality versus its true nature when at the age of sixteen I read the Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu, the same year I took High School Chemistry. As I learned about atoms and molecules and how they affect each other I became fascinated with how all that was happening at a level we could not perceive without highly specialized equipment. Remembering the Tao, I was struck by the awesome simplicity of it; what is is, but you cannot know all that is because you are part of all that is. Godel's Incompleteness Theorem, several centuries earlier, espoused by a poet mystic.
Since that year I have always questioned that which I think happened versus what may have actually happened. as Robert Anton Wilson said, "A flag flying in the wind is the truth, everything else is just media." In other words to know the reality of something we must experience the reality of something and even then our experience becomes a filter of interpretation skewing that reality. In this model, reality becomes fluid, which it appears to be at a quantum level.
THERE AND BACK AGAIN
The night of May first into May second I crossed the hedge with the aid of entheogens. I had visions of riding to Brocken for the Walpurgisnacht Sabbath , which of course had happened the night before. I recognized this as a projection of fantasy and desire, so I began to center myself. After becoming quite still, I felt a buzzing sensation in my thighs, it moved up my body until everything was throbbing, buzzing, tingling. I looked up and saw a cloaked figure motion me towards a large cauldron. I went to her. She told me to look into the cauldron.
I asked,"Who are you?"
"As old as the wind, and as dry too. I come in the night, ancient and full of life."
"What is your origin?"
"The fiery remains of stars, that cooled long before your world existed."
"What do I call you?"
"I have been called, Talto, Petrota, and others. You know me as Kali, but I am Lilitu."
Hesitantly I peer into the cauldron, and fall in. I say in because I did not fall down, but rather at an angle and then I lost sense of direction. I saw many things, works that I am completing, works to be initiated, and how I am my biggest blockage. Then I moved up. Up through the earth, up through my feet, up through to my head. I awoke. It was 3:30 a.m. May second.
THE END OF THE EARTH
The second of May ended a year and a day cycle of working with earth. It has forever altered my work, I have found spiritual gold in the most mundane of objects. In the process I discovered the Prima Materia Magica, Dirt. I am a Dirt Sorcerer. So I did my closing work and pledged to work for better dirt everywhere. I normally feel a small vacuum after concluding a ritual cycle, but this time I feel very solid and grounded, literally.
One cycle ends and another begins. Now I begin. I have spent so long with this bit of work that I have lost touch with some parts of myself. I will look them over and decide what no longer serves me and let it go. Other things I will choose to learn more about. My earth work is leading me towards alchemy and a renewed appreciation of Materia.
FROM THE MOUTHS OF SPIRITS
In the wee morning hours of the second day of May, I began to communicate with St. Cyprian and La Flaca. We concluded some previous work and I began to converse with them over some coffee. I asked La Flaca if she had any advice, her response was shocking. She told me to quit complaining. I asked what she meant by this and Cyprian replied. He told me to stop wearing my failure like a badge of honor.
I knew immediately what he meant, I have a tendency to give into a martyr complex. I convince myself that my self imposed suffering is somehow beneficial to the whole of humanity. Horse shit. So many times I have convinced myself that I am part of some oppressed group in the religious minority. This is only true in the sense that there is an overwhelming bias towards one religion in this country; Commerce. As for the minority part, yes I have a spiritual practice that is mine alone. He was admonishing me to own my life. Isn't that what being a sorcerer is all about?
It is these times when I hear things from the spirits that are uncomfortable, or make me uneasy that I know I am dealing with something outside of my normal experience. None of this was presented harshly, just as a nudge in the right direction. This how I know it is Authentic.
THE CAULDRON OF RETURN
After working with La Flaca,and Cyprian I went back to sleep . It was about 6:45 a.m. I dreamt of a circle of light hovering over head, and I was swimming towards it. As I broke the surface, I awoke. I had emerged from the cauldron. At first, I doubted that I had done workings until I noticed the lit candles, incense ash, and fresh roses from the garden. A flood of memories washed over me and I began to write down what I could remember. Some of it will take a while to figure out, but most is clear. I am not the same as when I entered.
I have strength and resolve that was missing before. Some of the things I took for granted are crumbling and falling apart. The facade is decaying, but there is already new growth, and I must face myself and ask those three questions.
I have started offering a service to my friends and neighbors, dandelion removal. The ones in my yard are where I get leaves, flowers, and seeds, I can't harvest their roots. so I have been volunteering to dig up peoples dandelions to get rid of them. My caveat is that they cannot be fertilized or treated. If I feel that the person is being less than forthright I may use those for talismanic work. The rest I will roast and consume. I love dandelions, they grow almost everywhere and they are very useful. Dandelion Spirit is one of my tutelary spirits, a wise sage with deep roots.
Deep Roots
Dandelion, Taraxacum Officinale, has very deep roots, both in actuality and in folklore. Historicallythey are believed to have evolved roughly 30 million years ago in Eurasia. They are considered a hardy, taproot perennial. In other words if you do not remove the root you do not get rid of the dandelion, thus my proposal to friends and neighbors. Some mythological associations include the Sun and Jupiter, in Ayurveda it is attributed to Saturn and air. It is this dualistic aspect that attracts me on the esoteric side.
The roots of dandelions can break up compacted soil and magically that is how one should think of them. They have the power to break through where others cannot. Associations with underworld currents suggest other works that could be accomplished with the roots. Saturnal work is greatly aided by the the addition of dandelion root as materia. The making of an Alruan or root talisman, is described by Sarah Anne Lawless in the article Alraun Crafting: How to Make a Herbal Root Talisman. Personally I just dry them and make a talisman as fits my purposes, but I found her article interesting.
Dandelion roots also have many traditional healing uses and current scientific studies how promise of anti cancer properties. Two chemicals in particular lupeol and taraxinic acid show promise in clinical trials. Dandelion root is rich in vitamins A, B, C and D and the minerals potassium, iron and zinc. Traditionally it has been used as a diuretic and to treat the urinary tract and filter organs. This includes kidneys, liver and gall bladder. The common method of ingestion is a tisane made from dehydrated roots, sometimes they are roasted and used as a coffee substitute.
Helios and Saturn
Just as the roots are associated with Saturn, so too are the blooms associated with the sun. At first glance this may seem to make the dandelion double aspected, but upon closer examination we will see that this is not necessarily so. The bright shining face of the dandelion is happy like the sun, bursting forth with the joy of life. In ancient Greece, the Sun was Helios, and in Rome it was Sol, names also attributed to the planet Saturn. Ancient Chaldeans referred to Saturn as Helios and in their own language Alap-Shamas, or "Star of the Sun". What is most interesting about this is that many ancient sources remark upon Saturn's Bright appearance and it was often illustrated with rays or spokes. Some have speculated that there was an astronomical event that created the ring and when it happened a bright disk could be seen around Saturn. I believe there is simpler explanation.
Helios Cthonos is a clue as is Ra as Atum, the ram headed form. Even the Egyptians gave horns to their gods when they traveled the under world. Helios was likewise a traveler of the underworld by night. Saturn is ruler of the underworld, as such he would travel freely across the night. The ancients saw a mirroring of journeys and aspects. Saturn was the secret sun of the dark night. The antithesis of the sun, no longer Sol Invictus, but Sol Niger, the black sun. So back to the dandelion, a cosmos in a flower. Above ground bursting forth and shining bright the dandelion is Sol, Helios, Ra. Below ground digging deep in to Cthonic realms, it is Sol Niger, Helios Cthonos, Atum in Mesektet. This seemingly simple flower has mighty power. It may even help save the world.
One Man's Weed
Many people consider the dandelion a nuisance, just an annoying weed that must be removed. I am a weed. I don't fit in well with manicured society, many would consider me simple and rustic. I am wild and will root where ever I happen to be. Just like the dandelion I find vast riches and freedom on the margins. This often reviled plant has many great uses and benefits. Every part is edible and it has medicinal qualities which I mentioned above. The most commonly consumed parts are the leaves, the flowers and the roots.
I will put dandelion flower petals in salads and I have had them batter dipped and fried. The greens I prefer sauteed like spinach, with olive oil, fresh cracked black pepper and kosher salt. The roasted root makes a great coffee like drink, I like mine with roasted chicory. While reading up on this post I stumbled upon Eat The Weeds, which may be my favorite new find this month.
The leaves are rich in minerals like magnesium, calcium and iron. They aid with digestion and they have vitamins A, C, and E. They are high in beta carotene and contain plant sterols such as beta-sitosterol and stigmasterol. These are fatty compounds that are similar to cholesterol and help block cholesterol in the body.For a good overview I recommend the University of Maryland Medical Center's website, the supporting research is impressive.
Liquid Sunshine
Alternative to fermenter
Growing up, the elders of my family had one treat that they indulged in every summer Dandelion Wine. To me Dandelion Wine is one of culinary treats that every human should try before shucking their mortal coil. There is nothing dandier that Dandelion Wine, It will aid you in communing with the spirit of this plant, literally. Here is a recipe I have used in the past.
DANDELION WINE
Ingredients:
1 package (7 g) dried brewing yeast
2 quarts (230 g) whole dandelion flowers
Using 2 quarts+ of just the petals can make for a less bitter wine
4 quarts water (3.785 L)
3 tablespoons (18 g) coarsely chopped orange zest; avoid any white pith
1 tablespoon (6 g) coarsely chopped lemon zest; avoid any white pith
Don't do this. Flowers=Bitter Wine
8 cupswhite sugar
Wash the flower, remove green bits. Soak in water, covered for two days. Bring to a boil with Lemon Zest, Orange Zest and Sugar. Once you reach a boil, turn off fire and let cool. Strain. Paper coffee filter are good for this. Pour into a plastic fermentation container,
and attach a fermentation lock. Let the wine ferment in a cool dark area
until the bubbles stop, 10 to 14 days. Let the wine clarify and then siphon off everything but the lees (sediment). Bottle and cork, let it sit for about another week in cool dark area before decanting.
Enjoy your exploration with Dandelions. Before I part I will remind you of one bit of lore of the dandelion, blow away its seeds is thought to grant wishes. I personally believe this, because my wish always comes true and I always wish for the same thing, more dandelions.
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:
Go outside and dig up a handful of dirt.
Put it in an open container.
Smell the dirt every morning.
Do this for a week.
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.
Build large street theatre puppets of political and religious figures and race them in the parks. Flood the Internet with nudity, not pornography, plain old nudity, especially nipples. Flood Facebook with male nipples to counter the absurdity. Big Data is running experiments to control human behavior, use social media to run your own experiments. Counter measure the countermeasures, information technology lends itself to chaos and discord, help it. Meanwhile build cabals and communes both physical and virtual with like minded individuals. Everything is spectacle and theatre now, Break The Proscenium. Perform public curses on your state capital steps, they are doing it to you inside, most of all engage the public. Be a clown for Lucifer.
