I have several posts in various stages of draft completion. I have several more somewhere in my head. Sigils. Shape-shifting. Visionary experiences. Curses courtesy of Catullus. Blessings and curses inspired by Homer. I have plans for my temple, and experiments in kitchen-witchery to report. Planetary rituals and experimental Dionysian devotions.
None of them are ready to share, at this moment, nor will they be for some time.
Things have been kind of crazy for the last two months: the crash that followed my three weeks of daily planetary work; the paths being opened for me by my gods and familiar spirits; the personal drama of school, winter break, and the return to classes. Neither long distance relationship nor polyamory are easy, and combining the two … well, it’s made for a very lonely satyr, lately. I’m researching graduate schools and brainstorming for the undergraduate thesis which I start on next year trying to settle on a magical motto to take up at my next initiation in the summer.
The state of the Neopagan and magical communities in regards to issues of social justice continue to infuriate me, but I’m currently experiencing a period of burn-out where only the most egregious offenses can rouse more than a half-hearted “WTF is wrong with you?” from me. This is doubly frustrating, given Gordan’s assurance that the tides are right for political magic right now, and made particularly bitter by the way in which it has very recently infringed upon my personal circle.
All this is by way of saying: I’m tired, folks. I regret this unplanned hiatus, but I can’t promise that it won’t go on a little longer. Please bear with me while I ferment in my own juices for a while: I promise to serve up some fine stories when I’m ready.
And, yes, I do realize how meta it is to write about not writing.