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In art, sorcerer's workbench, witchcraft

Half-born Spirit

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

Over the last decade in general, and the last three years in particular, I have been doing increasingly intense work with electional astrology and astrological images, culminating (so far) in an ever-expanding series of metal talismans cast in my home studio. But, as any of you who are in the arts in general, and jewelry in particular, know, neither art nor magic are science, and results are sometimes perfect. Casting, in particular, is a bit finnicky, and the vagaries of combining the process with spirit conjuration only complicates the process.

So far, most of the time, the issues have been minor. Some of the coin talismans had been meant to be pendants, but the bail didn’t cast correctly. In those instances, I just cut off the nubs with no harm to the metal talisman or complaint from the talismanic spirit.

In most cases where more intense intervention was necessary, I kept the talisman for myself and worked with the spirit to determine what was needed to achieve our mutual ends. My Mars talisman, for example, had been meant to have three jump rings, but only the bottom one cast. I made him a frame so that I could wear him as a necklace, rather than string him on prayer beads, and hung a Roman arrow head from the bottom ring.

The case of my Jupiter talismans was more extreme. One talisman had a hole in the blank space over the lion-man’s bolt, and two of his three jump rings had failed. Working with him, I tube-set an emerald in that hole and built him a silver frame so that I could string him on lapis and moonstone prayer beads. A second talisman had mis-cast more drastically, missing one of her hands and a great deal of the thinner parts of the talisman had cold-shut, leaving negative space in the background talismanic image. I thought that I was, finally, going to have to figure out a funerary process for failed talismans – but the spirit informed me, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted to live. And so I made a frame for her, as well, with “wings” that would clip into my cuff bracelet. They were not the strongest talismans I’ve made, but they’ve been growing stronger as I work with them, and they have been good and loyal familiars.

At the second of August’s Mercury in Virgo elections, however, the inevitable finally happened: one of the talismans I cast failed entirely. The problem was on the jewelry end of things: I didn’t get a good enough seal between the flask and the vacuum of the casting machine. If it hadn’t been an elected cast, I’d have had more than a few seconds to fuck with it and get a better seal. But it was and I didn’t.

The talisman was barely there, a cartoon crescent moon where there should have been a full disk. At first I thought there wasn’t even enough there to catch as spirit. As I cut it off the sprue, though, I could feel the spirit in the metal: struggling to manifest, but without enough material or image to fully enter the world – but too much to just leave on its own.

I didn’t ask its name. That seemed like an insult. I just held it in my hands and apologized. I asked what it needed. It needed the fragment to be destroyed, rendered unrecognizable as even the attempt at a talisman. That was absolutely in my power.

I took the crescent nub to my soldering block and turned on my torch. As I put fire to metal, I apologized again and reached out my psychic hands to cradle the spirit as I pulled it softly from the melting metal. I continued apologizing to the spirit, promising that it would have another chance at life in the material world when next I came to a Mercury election.

The brass burned blue as I melted it and resisted being slagged at temperatures that should have melted it readily. But the metal gave, eventually, and when it did, curling into a ball as best as brass can, the spirit came free. With a final apology, I released the spirit to return to its sphere.

Sometimes casts fail, even when there’s magic involved. I’ve been afraid of something like this happening since I started casting elected talismans for my friends back in 2020. In a sense, I’m glad that it finally happened, because now I know how to handle it, and that I can, and that – approached properly – it’s not as traumatic to either magician or spirit as I was afraid that it might be.

I’m also glad that it happened because it answered a question that has been with me since I first heard about spirit conjuration magic back in the 1990s. The spirits we call – or at least the ones that come when I throw my consecrated casts – are here because they want to be. There is something about incarnating as a talisman spirit that is appealing to them. They all want to live.

In art, witchcraft

Triptych Vision of Baphomet

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

I’ve mentioned a few times that my daily ritual includes an invocation of Baphomet, calling upon them to light their Gnostic fire with me, my familiars, and the world. I have mentioned that, on some days, I have been rewarded with visions of the god, and that I have attempted to reproduce those visions in art as a devotional practice. I have not been particularly successful at doing so *frequently*, but that practice has continued.

I may also have mentioned that the god has frequently appeared to me as a … triptych, for lack of a better word. Or I may not have. Frankly, I have struggled with the vision, in part because it is so different from the way Baphomet is depicted in any other source that I’ve seen. I have made a few attempts to render those images into art – as an act of devotion, yes, but also so that I can contemplate them, and try to understand them. These three pencil sketches from mid-May are the best that I have managed so far.

In the center, of course, is Baphomet as one usually sees them: goat-headed and goat-footed, in the magician’s pose, the sacred androgyne: both man and woman and neither; both divine and mortal and neither. Levi, who first drew this image, hid their phallus behind a magic wand. I suffer from no such cowardice. In this vision they are the Red God. No, I don’t know what that means.

On the right hand side (of my vision) is the White Lady, or perhaps White Priestess. She is crowned by the moon, and sometimes veiled or blindfolded. She tilts her head back toward the sky, and her arms hang down with her hand open, palms up.

On the left hand side is the Black Man, or the Man in Black, or both. His head is that of a deer, or perhaps the skull of a deer, with branching antlers. He holds his hands up in a gesture of power.

I don’t know what this means. I don’t know what any of this means. Didn’t I just write about how deeply uncomfortable I am with religious impulse and experience? And yet, mystic visions like these are what I live for. And if there are mystic waters unmixed with religion, well… I left those shallow shores behind years ago. When I wrote last, that thought made me angry. Today I am just … confused.

Of all the gods in my altar room, Baphomet is almost always the most present. Even as I have struggled with deep depression over the last weeks – a plain fact that deserves a post of its own – and I have struggled to feel the presences even of Dionysos and Aphrodite, gods who have been with me even longer, Baphomet has been there with me, reaching out, a palpable presence in the room.

The images above are still as much artistic flourish as mystic vision. I hope that, as I continue to struggle out of this emotional morass, I will be able to resume that work, the vision will return and I will be able to render it more clearly.

In art

From the Sorcerer’s Workbench: Pride 2022: Divine Images of Sappho and Antinoos

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

Happy Pride, friends. It’s been a bit of a road to get here. I meant to have this done weeks ago. Life, as they say, happened, instead.

Having a Sorcerer’s Workbench Pride Line was one of my big goals for 2022. But I set that goal for myself before I quit my day job, and while that decision did ostensibly leave me with more free time, the burnout and depression that led me to that decision … well, tending to those wounds has been a serious investment in time and energy.

In the end, I was only able to come up with two divine persons to launch what I hope will be an annual tradition: Sappho and Antinoos. Both are semi-mythic figures: real to the best of scholars’ knowledge, but the majority of their true biographies have been lost and replaced by myth. 

The Antinoos design went perfectly from the jump. The Sappho design has given me trouble: the first prototype came out looking more like a Muppet than Classical beauty. The second prototype was perfect, but the first bronze exemplar didn’t turn out at all, and I somehow failed to get an exemplar into that day’s silver cast. But, as of tonight, I have a successful bronze cast and can properly unveil these images.

Sappho, on the off chance that you don’t know her, was a poet from the island of Lesbos in the Aegian Sea, who lived and wrote in the seventh and sixth centuries BCE. Her work was taught as a pinnacle of poetic skill for centuries, well into the Roman Empire, until – through a combination of censorship, neglect, and luck – it was lost to the ages. No contemporary biography survives, and mere scraps of her estimated 10,000 lines of poetry, but her work has been associated with sexual love between women since the Hellenistic period. Now, she and the island from which she came are virtually synonymous with queer women and their experiences.

Antinoos was a young man beloved of the Roman emperor Hadrian. More myth than fact remains of either his life or his death, but the record is clear that he died while travelling with Hadrian in Egypt and that emperor had him deified, established a hero cult in his name, and named a city after him. The cult never became a major religion, but it was widespread and reasonably popular, and Antinoos became both a religious and literary icon of sexual love between men.

I based the artwork for both of these medallions on classical artworks: Sappho on a black figure vase painting from the late 6th century BCE, and Antinoos on a Roman statue in the Antinous Mondragone style from the 2nd century CE, reframed in imitation of an ancient coin. Both will be in my usual 1 inch talisman style, though I am considering a 3/4 inch variation if there’s sufficient interest.

So, friends. Here it is. Sacred Sappho and Holy Antinoos, ancestral figures (for those of y’all who are into that thing), heroes in the hero-cult sense, shining beacons from the ancient past, lights that we can hold up to say “we have always been here, and we will always be here”. The Sorcerer’s Workbench Pride Line 2022. Better late than never.

In art, witchcraft

From the Sorcerer’s Workbench: Consecrated Jupiter Talismans

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

{This post is condensed from several posts originally shared only with my Patreon supporters. To get first dibs on elected talismans like these, or even just to read about them first, please support me at the $1 Seeker level or above.}

Hail to the King, my friends.

Specifically, hail to Jupiter in Pisces. The Greater Benefic in his domicile, gracing the ascendant.

There were three such elections in February, as identifited by Nina Grypon (I buy her monthly elections newsletter from her website, and you should too.) I caught the first two, and will talk about that in detail in a later post, but I did not manage to catch the third. Somehow the day before got away from me and I did not get the wax positives invested and into the kiln in time. I’m a little frustrated with myself, but in the end it’s probably for the best. I was already tired from the work I had done so far, and while I did end up claiming two of the talismans for myself, I had not taken any time to petition Jupiter directly. And, as a newly independent artist, I definitely think that time was well spent.

It’s been just over a month since the last election and my own material results are starting to come in. I’ve seen a 30% follower growth in some of my social media and what feels like much greater engagement (I don’t pay for tracking, so I can’t give a number). This month’s sales have definitely gone up over last month’s, and I’ve even had someone reach out about teaching services that I don’t currently offer. I am also continuing to experience the secondary effects of big magic – erratic sleep and vivid dreams and as much high weirdness as is possible given that I am respecting the pandemic and staying home.

All the talismans are made with my signature Picatrix Image of Jupiter talisman (which is getting a post all its own in the next weeks), based on the following passage: “The image of Jupiter, according to the opinion of Picatrix, is the shape of a man with a leonine face and the feet of a bird; beneath his feet he is holding a dragon that has seven heads, and in his right hand he holds a dart as if he wished to throw it at the head of the dragon.” Picatrix Book II, Paragraph 16 (Attrell and Porecca, 2019)

I chose to make the talismans in shibuichi (a 3:1 copper:silver art metal alloy, whose name comes from Japanese (literally “one in four”) under the guidance of my familiar spirits, knowing that silver is attributed to Jupiter by Agrippa, and set Jovial stones in the curl of the serpent’s tail.

All the talismans were conjured using alternating invocations of the Orphic Hymn to Zeus (Athanasakis translation) and the Picatrix Inovacation of Jupiter (Greer and Warnock, as presented in a election pamphlet shared in 2012). The spirits were invoked to provide “unblemished health, … divine peace and riches, [and] glory without blame.” and to “grant us wisdom, prosperity, success, help us be happy, healthy, and safe.” Additionally, each offered a specialty as I was cleaning and polishing it.

Each talisman has been packed with a small quantity of the incense used it its consecration.

Patreon supporters got first dibs. I listed them publicly on Etsy on Thursday 3 March. I meant to talk about them here sooner, but I am still getting back into the habit of blogging, and I apologize for that. So far only one has been claimed (not counting the two I kept for myself). As the talismans are claimed, I will continue to mark them off.

So, then, I have the two cohorts of spirits/talismans:

First Cohort

The first batch of talismans was cast on the 2ndof February with Jupiter just past the ascendant. The talismans were cast and consecrated with the sapphires in place. The sapphires are rough Yogo sapphires mined in Montana.

The talismans were then cleaned, polished, and interviewed for names and sigils – which may not be the names and sigils they wish their proper owner to use, but provide a point of contact – during subsequent Jupiter hours throughout the following week.

I am selling each of these for $430, including shipping.

The first talisman is a pendant, and he promises, “I bring that which you desire.” He one feels like a wild ride, definitely spicier than I’m in the mood for, but definitely exactly what someone needs.

The next talisman is a pendant, and they promise, “I teach happiness.” This talisman had a super chill vibe.

The next talisman spirit is a coin, and they promise, “I teach peace and bring prosperity.”

The final talisman is a pendant, and they promise, “I teach discernment.” I think this one will be a very good friend to someone.

Second Cohort

The second batch of talismans were cast on the 7thof February. This election I timed more perfectly, and I threw the cast as Jupiter was precisely conjoined to the ascendant. These talismans were set with emeralds from one of my mundane jewelry suppliers – A grade, cloudy but beautiful green, visually stunning in the shibuichi setting.

The talismans were cleaned and polished, and the stones set, then interviewed for names and sigils in subsequent hours of Jupiter throughout the week.

I am selling each of these for $598, including shipping.

This talisman spirit a pendant, and she promises, “I will keep you happy, healthy, and safe.”

The next talisman spirit is meant to be strung on prayer beads like a rosary. She promises, “I bring riches and teach mysteries.” I suspect she will need to be pampered and courted, but that the effort will be worth your while.

The final talisman spirit is a pendant, and he promises, “I bring victory and justice.” This one spicy.

Attunement.

Upon receipt of your consecrated talisman, you will need to perform an attunement ritual. Lacking guidance from the spirit, themselves, or your own traditions and familiars, I recommend the following:

Mix up a batch of Jupiterian incense in advance. Secure a brazier and charcoal. Wait until the next available day and hour of Jupiter (dawn is ideal, but not necessary) before opening the envelope with your talisman.

In the hour before you perform your ritual, set up your ritual space as needed. Prepare an appropriate libation for your tradition, I use coffee and/or wine.

At the appointed time, cleanse and consecrate your space in accordance with your tradition. Open the envelope (careful not to make a mess with the included incense) and set the talisman on your altar. Burn the included incense on your charcoal brazer. As you do so, introduce yourself to the talisman and spirit. Tell it what you want it to accomplish for you. Ask it if it has a different name and sigil that it would like you to invoke it by. Negotiate as necessary. Repeat daily or weekly as needed until you and the spirit have come to an agreement.

My first several talismans took months to a year to really settle into my life. The more recent ones have started talking to me in days. Be prepared for swift results, but do not expect them.

In art, witchcraft

From the Sorcerer’s Workbench: Picatrix Image of Venus

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

“The image of Venus according to the opinion of Picatrix is the shape of a woman with a human body but with the head of a bird and the feet of an eagle, holding an apple in her right hand and a wooden comb similar to a tablet in her left, which has these figures written upon in [the Greek letters OLOIOL]. Whoever carries this image will be well received and esteemed by all.”

Picatrix Bk 2, Chapter 10, Paragraph 55, translated by Attrell and Porecca

I drew my first Image of Venus while I was in college, as I was beginning to catch my stride with what I was calling the Ceremonial Experiment (with no idea, then, the long-term effects it would have on my magical practice). I later remade the image as a photograph, with a hand-made mask and a human model. I returned to the Image of Venus, again, when I changed jewelry jobs after college and found myself in the rare position of having space and encouragement to learn and grow as a jeweler. If it was not literally the first piece that I prototyped through what would become my signature process (I think that it was), it was in the very first batch. And, thus, it was one of the handful of designs that launched the Sorcerer’s Workbench.

The Image of Venus was not the only Picatrix image I attempted at that time, but it was the only one I finished. It played to my strengths as an illustrator: a standing figure with animal features and simple iconography. When I went to take that first illustration – which, tragically, seems to have vanished into the void – it was relatively easy to take my line art and redraw it to fit the needs of the prototyping process I learned at the (then new) day job.

two-tone art and prototype

In a very real sense, the Image of Venus Picatrix talisman was the prototype for entire line of Piecatrix talismans. It was early experiments with the Image of Venus that taught me how much power could come from the image alone, without any enchantment, and how the inclusion of the Agrippan seals and characters amplified that raw power, and helped tune out any trouble from a mediocre election, or an unelected enchantment ritual. The talisman that I, myself, carry to this day has only the image, without the characters and seal, and was consecrated/enchanted post-facto after having been carried for some months. The spirit that now dwells in that talisman is one of my most trusted familiars.

It is, in large part, for the benefit of this talisman that have I practiced and perfected my shibuichi process. Shibuichi is a Japanese art metal alloy of copper and silver at a 3:1 ratio (the name literally translates as one in four) that can look like rose gold when highly polished, darkens to a lovely coppery rusty red over time, and takes a stunning matte black patina. It is also available in .925 sterling silver, yellow brass, or red bronze.

As with most of my talismans, I offer the Image of Venus as a coin, a pendant, or a “rosary” charm with three rings so that it can be easily strung on prayer beads. If you are particularly concerned about the talisman taking its “final form” during the election (something I have observed spirits require from some sorcerers but not others for reasons known only to the spirits, themselves), I recommend stringing the rosary or pendant variants on prayer beads, which you could complete during the electional window.

shibuichi image of venus talisman strung on copper and lapis prayer beads with tassel

Each piece is hand-made to order in my home studio, with unique variations and defects as a result of the fabrication and casting process.

These talismans are NOT consecrated. That is your responsibility. Many customers have reported intense vibes from the power of the image, seal, and characters, but you still need to put in your part of the work, whatever that looks like in your tradition.

Astrological timing and consecration is available with a minimum of 30 days advance notice at an additional charge depending on the difficulty of the election you provide me with.

Custom variations – such as with stones, or alterations to the image – are available at my usual custom jewelry rates.

https://www.etsy.com/listing/817915354/picatrix-image-of-venus-two-sided

In art, scholarship

From the Sorcerer’s Workbench: The Attic Gorgon

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

The Attic Gorgon is one of the handful of designs that launched the Sorcerer’s Workbench, and was not only my first design to sell, but my first piece to sell again: first, directly off my body at Paganicon 2019, and then to someone I had met at that event a month or two later. It remains one of my best sellers to this day, and it is one of my favorite designs.

That last is no surprise. I have long been fascinated by the image of Medusa and the gorgons. Looking back, I can’t quite remember an inciting incident, so to speak – my first encounter was almost certainly Wrath of the Titans (1981), but what I remember most from that movie is actually the owl. My own earliest art that I can find on the subject was from around 2008, but by that time I clearly already had a fully internalized image. That image, of course, was most deeply influenced by Renaissance and modern images: a beautiful woman, her face surrounded by coiling serpents, draped in clinging gauze. A lot has changed since those early days, including my Bachelor’s degree in Classical Studies, and while I do still want to do a design based on that more modern image, I knew from the jump that I wanted my first Gorgon talisman to be in the Classical style.

The traditional name for the design is “Gorgoneion” which, to the best of my ability to discern, renders approximately as “Gorgon-image” or “Gorgon-thing”. It is apotropaic: meant to protect by frightening away evil spirits. It was a popular, even ubiquitous, design in the Hellenic world of Classical Greece, seen on temples and shields and pottery and jewelry and … well, you get the idea. When I went to make my own, I looked to a variety of ancient sources, ultimately settling on a particular piece of pottery.  

But with that image in place, we have to ask the question – where does that image come from?

No Greek myth has a single point of origin. Every story is a palimpsest: a mess of layer upon layer upon layer, each written over the other, which has been imperfectly removed from the vellum below. So we, as modern witches, sorcerers, neo-Hellenics, and mythographers, sift through those layers as best we can, picking and choosing the versions that bring us the most meaning.

Medusa and the Gorgons are no exception. When I look at the image of the Gorgoneion, fanged and bearded and serpent-tressed, I do not see the victim Ovid salivated over: raped by Neptune, cursed and transfigured by Minerva, murdered by Perseus. I see the youngest of three monstrous sisters, the lone mortal, daughters of either the sea monsters Keto and Phorkys, or of Keto and the elder Gorgon, Aix who was killed that Zeus might wear their hide as his aegis.

The very title “gorgon” means simply “terrible” or “fierce”. The three Gorgon sisters were Medusa, Sthenno, and Euryale, and our oldest written account of them comes from Hesiod’s Theogony 270 ff (trans. Evelyn-White) (Greek epic C8th or C7th B.C.) : “And to Phorkys (Phorcys) Keto (Ceto) bore … the Gorgones (Gorgons) who, beyond the famous stream of Okeanos (Oceanus), live in the utmost place toward night, by the singing Hesperides : they are Sthenno, Euryale, and Medousa (Medusa), whose fate is a sad one, for she was mortal, but the other two immortal and ageless both alike.”

Homer, a littler earlier than Hesiod, mentions a single “Gorgo” whose head and/or hide are used for the aegis of Zeus and Athena. Hyginus, a 2ndC CE author, reconciles these stories by naming that elder Gorgo Aix and naming them parent of the gorgon sisters. This last is my personal favorite, despite the late date (longtime readers and close friends know how strongly I favor older versions of everything, particularly predating the questionable urge to justify the behavior of gods as good).

The image itself springs onto the just a little before, emerging in its persistent form at the beginning of the 8th Century BCE. Some scholars trace it back to Knossos. A few – sadly, mostly discredited – attempt to trace it back much further, to the mythical neolithic goddess cults. But the image was more detailed, more complex than those earliest stories, and I think that the Gorgoneion is a fair exemplar of the movement from image to ritual to myth.

I will never be fully comfortable with the stories that surround the image of the Gorgoneion. That terrible defensive power, stollen and weaponized by the “civilizing” influence of father gods and heroic men. Ovid’s rape-and-transformation fantasy is only the most vile and explicit expression of that theme. Looking at the image, whether Attic or Renaissance, I see the same terrible beauty and power that drove Second Wave Feminists to invent their own mythologies, empowering Medusa and the gorgons as slandered goddesses, or reframing Athena’s curse as a defense against further injury.

But I return, again and again, to that face: a goddess whose image the gods themselves use to turn away evil. A goddess born of the monsters of the elder world. A goddess whose sisters live on.

I wear my own Gorgoneiai every day. I have one that lives on my keychain. I have another that I hang from the front of my face masks in this age of plague and fools.

Between different metals and fixtures, there are more than a dozen unique variations, but there are two basic designs: one sided, with a textured back; and two sided, with the names Medusa, Sthenno, and Euryale on the back.

Attic Gorgon Sterling Silver Pendant Protection Talisman | Etsy

Attic Gorgon Two-sided Protection Talisman | Etsy

In art, scholarship

Announcing the Sorcerous Arts Podcast

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

The Kansas City Sorcerous Arts Collective came together in 2018 to teach hands-on classes and run public rituals. Our public debut was in February of 2019, when we performed our Purification of the Sacred Grove ritual with the Kansas City Witches Meet-Up. We performed the ritual again at Paganicon 2019, taught several workshops also hosted by the KCWMU, and were winding up for our second major public ritual at Paganicon 2020 when the covid-19 pandemic brought all 2020 events to a screeching halt. It took us a while to decide what, if anything, we were going to do with in-person events off the table.

In June, we accepted an invitation to do an online workshop presentation for the Kansas City Witches Meetup Main Event in July. We were so pleased with how that went that we decided that we would, after all, do online events. Moreover, we’d had so much fun that we were going to do a podcast. We began meeting up online (almost) every Sunday in August, and have now recorded an acceptable backlog of episodes, ranging from a return to our July topic of magic in this time of Covid to why the Law of Attraction is bad magic and worse theology.

The Sorcerous Arts Podcast will be a series of informal, kitchen-table discussions on magic as a living practice: theory, experiments, and our actual results (or lack thereof). We’ll talk history, theology, ethics, experience, memes, community … anything that seems relevant at the time. The first episode will drop this Saturday, October 31st, 2020. It will be available through our RSS feed and Spotify, immediately, and hopefully soon through iTunes (Apple makes things hard because they can) and Stitcher and all the other major distributors. (We do our best, but none of us are actually IT people, coders, or competent at social media.)

I hope you’ll join us, and enjoy. See you Saturday.

In art, scholarship, witchcraft

Picatrix Image of the Moon

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

This week, after literally years of waffling between planets and images to pursue next, I have finally produced another talismanic image from the Picatrix, following up on the Image of Venus that I produced so many years ago.

“The image of the moon according to the opinion of Picatrix is the form of a man who has the head of a bird, and he holds a stick above him, and he has a tree before him.”

— Picatrix Bk.II Ch.10, p.105, as translated by Greer and Warnock.

As with my Venus talisman, I turned to the grand planetary seal and the Agrippan characters for the reverse.

Although I could probably rationalize it in a variety of ways – a decision to pursue the rest of the talismans in Chaldean order, perhaps, or a fictitious upcoming election (this year sucks, there are no elections – my decision to make an Image of the Moon was ultimately based on the easy availability of the most appropriate metal: silver. By that same logic I should probably do a Solar image next, for all that probably no one will be able to afford the ten pennyweights of 14k gold.

The image I selected was not my absolute favorite. That honor goes to an image described on the preceding page: “… a woman with a beautiful face, with a dragon about your waist, having horns on her head with two snakes encircling them, and with two more snakes entwined around each of her arms, and a dragon above her head and another dragon under her feet, and both these dragons have seven heads.” which is somewhat beyond my current ability to produce a mold positive. But I think that a second bird-headed figure makes a fine follow-up to my Venus talisman, and I know that I need to enjoy the few relatively simple images presented in the Picatrix.

I have already ordered the mold positive of this Image, and will hopefully be able to present the first silver prototype in early August. It will probably end up being priced identically to the Venus — $116 in my Etsy store, assuming that the price of silver does not continue to rise, and will be available in brass and bronze for those who are less concerned with material than image.

In art, scholarship, witchcraft

Picatrix Images: The First Face of Aries

Author Satyr MagosPosted on
Picatrix Images: The First Face of Aries

Winding up for my last stellar sorcery experiment, I had a few options available to me. (Spoiler: I chose, “all of the above”.) One of them was to empower talismans bearing the image of the first face of Ares. In the words of the Picatrix:

The first face of Aries is Mars, and there rises in it according to the opinion of the great sages in this science, the image of a black man, with a large and restless body, having red eyes and with an axe in his hand, girded in white cloth, and there is great value in this face. This is a face of strength, high rank and wealth without shame. This is the form.

Picatrix Book II Chapter 11 Paragraph 5, trans. Michael Greer & Christopher Warnock

I crafted the image in time for my own use, but not in time to share with the rest of the world in time to catch that first face this year. My apologies to all. I do, of course, share it in the spirit of camaraderie, for personal magical use only. If you do use the image, please share your results with me for the sake of Science.

In art, witchcraft

Occult Art: DIY Grimoire

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

I may or may not have mentioned here that I changed jobs a few years ago, upgrading from the one-hour jewelry repair joint in the mall to my city’s premiere occult store. So, yeah. That happened. It’s been fucking fantastic, except for the temptations.

For two and a half years, I managed to walk by these every day and keep my hands to myself. Early in December I finally caved.

Jeweler’s Bench For Scale

This is not the first hilariously expensive journal I’ve bought for myself. I swore that this time I would not let it languish. This time I had a plan. Inspired by some occult-adjacent artwork, I set out to make a magical book that would work as well in a circle as it would in a photoshoot.

I actually started almost immediately, transcribing the Stele of Jeu onto some of the first pages of the book.

The Stele of Jeu the Hieroglyphist

I can already report that the Stele of Jeu produces even stronger results this way than using my old “book of shadows”, comprised of computer-printed pages in a three-ring binder. (Which, to be clear, worked super well, both in private and in public. But it wasn’t #aesthetic enough for me at this stage in my life.)

Yesterday I spent a few hours playing with magic circles and orphic hymns.

For Conjuring Spirits of the Moon
For Conjuring Spirits of Venus

The hardest parts so far have been: A) recognizing that it is not going to end up being perfectly ordered; and, B) carpel tunnel makes hand-writing the text really, really hard (harder than the drawing, to my surprise). The first did not come as a surprise. My obsession with well-ordered books is part of how I resisted buying such a thing in the first place; convincing myself that the aesthetic was worth it was the first step in deciding to buy it. The second, though I should have known better, was very much a surprise.

Careful observers will note that, while the Stele of Jeu is at the very beginning, the conjuration circles are in the middle. No, I haven’t filled the space in between. I put the circles there because I intend to balance candles and crystals on the open pages, and I figure that will go better if it lies relatively flat.

For anyone who is curious, yes, those are the Athanassakis translations. The particular Triangle of Art is idiosyncratic, shown to me by the spirits of Saturn during my first run of Seven Spheres in Seven Days (which apparently I need to write a new post about, because the artwork on the first one did not survive migration to the new web host).

Future plans for the tome include adding the original Greek to the two Orphic hymns above, the healing prayer to St. Raphael that my crew and I have used to good effect on several occasions, and the most outrageous occult art illuminations that I can free hand under the influence of drugs and/or magic.

This level of drama is, of course, not necessary for the practice of magic. Not even the magic I intend to use it for. But I fucking love the drama: how else would so much ceremonialism made its way into my witchcraft? So I make fine jewelry talismans for myself, my friends, and for profit. I make art exploring occult and magical themes and images. And I make magical tools that double as props for occult themed photoshoots.

And I’m here to say: if you, too, are an artist and occultist, you should, too.

Even if you Keep Silent, and no one but you is going to see it.