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.
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.
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.
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.