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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 sorcerer's workbench, witchcraft

From the Sorcerer’s Workbench: Venus in Taurus Talismans

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

At the beginning of the month I was able to catch the two Venus in Taurus elections, casting two cohorts of shibuichi Image of Venus talismans. For this election, I divided my efforts between my usual Picatrix Image of Venus talisman – “…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) – and an experimental variant without the characters, which effectively becomes a synthesis between the Picatrix (“…a woman holding an apple in her right hand and, in her left, a comb… “) and Mercurius (“…a shape with the body of man , the face and head of a bird, and the feet of an eagle.”) images (Book II, Chapter 9, paragraphs 27 and 28)” .

The first cohort, cast before dawn on the 1st, consisted of four talismans – two each of the friendship and experimental images. The second cohort, cast before dawn on the 6th, consisted of five –  three friendship and two experimental. The pre-verb for both rituals was intense: I couldn’t sleep at all those nights, and spend the non-ritual hours leading up to the elections working on old drafts. 

All are being sold for $409, including shipping anywhere in the US.

THE FIRST COHORT

Doing divination in preparation for the first cohort, I drew the Princess of Disks: good things will come of these, but they may be slow to manifest – possibly as much as nine months, depending on how literal that pregnancy metaphor gets. I mixed up an incense for the rituals on the night of the 1st, consisting of red sandalwood, rose buds, crushed amber, oil made at a previous Venus election, nutmeg, and cinnamon. I invoked the spirits by means of the Orphic Hymn to Venus (Athanasakis translation, as usual) and the Picatrix Invocation of Venus (Attrell and Porreca, p. 173), calling upon the powers of Venus to send down spirits who would aid and serve and be good companions to whomever carried them, and bring with them the blessings of the planet Venus. I got a little restless and hurried during the casting, and poured the metal at the exact beginning of the election’s window, but I think that was the spirits on the other side as much as me, because I could absolutely feel them come through.

The first talisman is a pendant, and she promises to teach self-love. This is the first of the experimental images. Sold.

The second talisman features the experimental image and is meant to be strung on prayer beads. She promises to help build a new life in a new place.

The third talisman is a pendant and she promises to rebuild bridges.

The fourth talisman bears the experimental image and is meant to be strung on prayer beads. She says, “I am a muse. I draw and inspire muses.”

THE SECOND COHORT

In preparation for the second cohort, I drew IV Art (Crowley’s answer to the Temperence card). Although I was and am confident in the go-ahead message, I am less certain what it means for whomever will carry it. I used the same incense for the second cohort as for the first, and invoked the spirits by the same two hymns, and again asked that the planetary powers send down spirits who would be good companions to those who carried them, and bring with them the blessings of Venus. This election I hit more precisely, a single minute before Venus crossed the ascendant, and again I could very much feel the spirits rushing through.

The first talisman is a pendant and she promises to “bring true connection.” Sold.

The second talisman is a pendant bearing the experimental image. She promises, “I will awaken something within you.” I’m not sure if this will be a new passion or a new fetish, but … I’d take her at her word.

The third talisman is a pendant and she promises, “I will help you find family.”

The fourth talisman is a pendant and she promises, “I grant grace and bring friendship.”

The fifth talisman, bearing the experimental image, is meant to be strung on prayer beads. She promises, “I offer all the blessings of Venus.” SOLD

A FEW CONCLUDING THOUGHTS

Between various mundane and magical exertions, I collapsed both physically and emotionally after these elections, and was not able to complete and polish these pieces until the last few days. I got them clean and free of the sprue during the Night Hour of Venus on Friday the 10th. I polished and communed with them on at the night hours of Venus on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of this week. Having now done these spirits their due honors, I am feeling much better … though that may be confusing causalities.

It is also worth noting that while my divination indicated that these would be good elections for me and my customers – possibly owing to my unique relationship with Venusian powers – two of the astrologers I follow and respect made a point of not taking advantage of these elections: they considered the Uranian influence too destabilizing. Certainly these are not talismans for someone hoping to stabilize existing relationships. But I’m glad that I made them, and I think that whoever takes them home will be glad that they did so. The ideal recipients of these talismans are queer magicians with passions for the arts.

In witchcraft

Ritual Report: Orphic Solstice Vigils

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

At yule, my psuedocoven and I finally pulled off a ritual that we’ve been talking about for years: an all-night vigil, reading our way through the Orphic Hymns. 

Some of us had done Yule vigils, before. Aradia and I hadn’t, so we (arguably) overprepared. We designed our ritual so that four of the seven of us had something to do at every stage, and rotated roles so that no one could space out so hard that it became a problem. We divided the night into hourly shifts, with each of us taking a turn reading the hymns in English (and with Alvianna and I alternating reading the hymns in Greek), pouring wine and burning incense (“sacrificer”), tending to the coffee maker and crock pots (“mom friend”), and participating by chanting back pre-selected lines when prompting by the readers. 

Of the various translations available to us – Thomas Taylor (1792), Apostolos Athanassakis (2013), Patrick Dunn (2018), and Sarah Mastros (2020) – we settled on Dunn. It’s Alvianna’s favorite translation, overall, and my second-favorite after Athanassakis, which is more academic but is admittedly not as good for actual use.

Each shift covered seven hymns, taking us from a bit after sunset (the sun sets early at the Winter Solstice, and most of us have day jobs) to just after dawn, and we bracketed the entire thing with prayers and offerings to Hestia. It was cold in our temple at first, but between my pellet stove and the body heat we generated, it was sweltering by the end. The air was already psychoactively thick with incense by the time we got to the God of Annual Feasts, whose hymn demands an offering of “suffumigation of everything but frankincense, plus a libation of milk”, at which point we were officially chonged out by the time we got to the moment of dawn and the Hymn to Eos. One of us had to leave before then, and a couple of us didn’t quite make it (I was among those falling asleep in the last hours. 

It went so well that we decided to do it again, this time at the Summer Solstice.

Going from the Longest Night to the Shortest required a couple changes: nine hymns each hour instead of seven. Cold food and drinks instead of hot. We also elected for a change of venue: Gaea Retreat Center instead of my home.

We had originally planned to make a three-day campout of it. Unfortunately, this year’s heat wave made that impossible. Instead, we rolled out Sunday afternoon with just our cooler, our camp chairs, and our Clam. We got set up early enough to ease into ritual, and we were more than ready to begin when the sun went down. We added fire-tending to the sacrificer role and guard duty (though that proved unnecessary) to the mom-friend role. We might have made those individual jobs, but there were only five of us, and we actually had camp almost entirely to ourselves, so that wasn’t necessary.

The shorter vigil improved the ritual greatly, and we still had down time to rest, eat, and vibe in between the end of each batch of hymns and the beginning of the next. The outdoor venue also really improved things, particularly since the weather for the overnight was nicer than we had any reason to expect – though, I did miss the psychoative effects of the frankincense, and it was too hot to drink wine or even smoke weed. None of us fell asleep, and we were all surprisingly spry in the mornings.

I honestly don’t remember a lot of the fallout and followup from the first ritual. I was already neck-deep in my Christmas Depression. I think that the vigil gets at least partial credit for getting me through December without a complete and total meltdown, and with giving me the courage to quit my day job in January. I am so far experiencing some vitalization in the aftermath, but that has been a mixed blessing.

Inevitably, we have already been discussing how the ritual could be improved for its next iteration. Our first thought is a compromise between the weather and the clock: having the next Orphic Vigil at the Autumn Equinox. I have suggested two or three minute breaks between each hymn, shortening the break at the end of each section. We are also discussing the merits of having everyone who is not reading Greek, sacrificing, or keeping track of food and coffee, reading along with the reader at the head of the altar. Alternately, rewriting the callback lines to be a little more speciffic, and to always invoke the name of the deity.

We have also been discussing aftereffects. Unsurprisingly, we have all reported sleep and dream disturbances – though, for myself and Aradia, we were already struggling to sleep normal hours… which might have been ritual preverb, or might just be the Spicy Sads. 

What is surprising is that fully three fifths of us, rather than experiencing an bump in our Hellenic contacts, have felt a distinct tug in Luficerian directions. For myself, Lucifer (the gnostic/devil/sabbatic figure, not the Roman Morningstar) has been a part of my daily ritual practice for some time, now, but on my previous rounds of initiatory work with my morning gods, he told me that it was not the time. Tuesday, after my first post-vigil sleep, he announced that now, in fact, is the time. More on that as it develops, I guess.  That was strange enough, but the following day, one of us mentioned their own post-vigil Luciferian visions, and a third confirmed that he had poked his head into their work as well. So now we’re wondering what the fuck is up with that.

After two iterations, though, I can confidently recommend the experience. Each group will need to tweak the general shape of things to their own preferences. As you’re planning things, though, we can say with certainty that a spreadsheet will absolutely be your friend.

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 witchcraft

Diminishing Returns or Deepening Practice?

Author Satyr MagosPosted on 2 Comments

I think that all of us who practice real magic, real spirituality, real witchcraft, go through periods of feast and famine. Fallow periods, sometimes so long that we forget what magic is like. Periods of growth where everything is sharp and bright and we wonder how it is that anyone ever steps away. Periods of high strangeness where we feel alien beyond words. Periods of deep immersion, where we forget that there are people who don’t devote their lives to all this.

This blog has gone through a long fallow period, interrupted only by project announcements and brief shouts into the void. My personal practice, on the other hand, has been going through a long period of slow growth.

I am approaching eighteen months of daily practice, easily the longest consistent streak in my twenty-five years of magical practice. During that time, I have maintained a regular (but not clockwork) practice of Friday night offerings to the Venus(planet)-associated gods in my life, a regular (but not clockwork) lunar practice, including guiding my pseudo-coven through a daisy chain of Drawing Down the Moon rituals, taken advantage of every astrological election I could squeeze into my schedule, and a grown a magical jewelry business – consisting primarily of Picatrix talismans and Hekate devotional jewelry – from side gig to full time job.

And when I put it like that, holy shit does it sound like a lot. An epic adventure of magic and mayhem. Living the dream, right?

But in the day to day experience of it, it has often felt like a struggle. I will not even begin to pretend that I have managed to bring my A game to every one – or even half – of the 517 and counting daily offerings to my familiar spirits and the eclectic pantheon that live in my altar room. Nor, when I have, did the gods and spirits in question necessarily deign to respond. Nor, even when I really, truly, sincerely tried, did I always manage to clear enough of the mundane static and internal screaming to hear what the gods and spirits had to say when they deigned to speak.

I have been thinking about that struggle over the past couple weeks. I can’t say, exactly, when daily coffee offerings for my gods as well as my spirits escalated to daily prayer, but it did. Every day I pray to Baphomet to awaken the Gnostic fire within me. Every day I pray to Aphrodite to open my heart that I may know that I am loved. Every day I pray to Lucifer to help me throw off the chains of my oppression.

I do know that it was about a month ago that those basic prayers escalated to include prayers for initiation into the mysteries. And I also know that I have cried every morning for the last two weeks.

The slow, careful, methodical work of healing and personal growth and deepening spiritual practices … it’s not the fun, dramatic, glamorous kind of magic. And it often feels like diminishing returns.

 At the beginning of the challenge that grew into this daily practice, I was receiving new instructions from my familiar spirits nearly every day. I could barely keep up. Hell, I should probably go back through my journal entries just to see what didn’t sink in. I know that there are some special requests in there that I never got to fulfilling before getting distracted by the next demand or suggestion.

Now, on the days when I can both hear and understand my gods and familiars, my journal entries mostly just read “warm contact with gods; warm contact with familiars; all content; no clear messages”.

It’s worth remembering, here, that I got into magic in search of adventure and high strangeness. I practiced kinds of magic that got me high. And, looking back on my magical youth, I think that sense of diminishing returns is what often led to fallow periods. Then, when I came back, everything would be bright and sharp again. And I wonder if others have had the same experience, if many of us have mistaken deepening practice for diminishing returns. Because, even on days when I’m so tired or depressed that I’m half-glad I’m not receiving potent visions of divinity, or clear instructions from my familiars, I’m also disappointed.

I’ve seen it said often enough that it’s probably officially cliché, but it is still worth repeating that a magical or spiritual practice is practice in both senses of the term: a thing you do repeatedly for its own sake, and doing a thing repeatedly in order to get better at it. How many of my magical and experiences in the last year were made possible by that praxis? If I had not been doing my daily ritual for nine months last Beltane, could I have led the Dionysiac ritual as well as I did? Could I have been possessed, let alone spread that possession as the contagion it was meant to be?

This streak won’t last forever. When it ends, probably after some amazing ecstatic ritual culminating in brain-borking gnosis (or maybe when I just fuck off into the desert), I will enter another fallow period. When that happens, I will probably focus on some mortal art – maybe actually finishing some of the novel drafts that have brought me to tears over the last year. It’s the natural cycle of things. Only the independently wealthy or those with infrastructure support can go forever without breaks.

But I hope that I will be able to carry these lessons forward, and remember that the returns of a regular practice are not diminishing as quickly as they may feel.

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 witchcraft

Speaking of Speaking to Spirits (Self-censorship When…)

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

I wonder, sometimes, how much other witches – and magicians, sorcerers, wonderworkers, mystics, what have you, those who even talk about their experiences – dial back, tone down, even outright censor their processes and experiences. Not just because somethings are private, but because they don’t want to admit in that forum just how far into the weeds they are.

What got me thinking about this most recently was a post that I wrote for my Patreon supporters, talking about casting and consecrating a series of Jupiter talismans. There were some things that came up in the process that gave me pause. For a couple of those problems, I pulled cards. For others, I consulted my familiar spirits. And I wondered – publicly on twitter – how many occultists just elide that distinction, obscuring their spirit contacts behind cartomancy and other slightly-more-respectable forms of divination.

For all that my brand is radical authenticity bordering on oversharing, I’m certain that I’ve been guilty of this in the past. And I know for a fact that I’ve been guilty of the reason for this: even in the last few days, having written the opening lines of this post, I’ve seen people talking about “the spirits told me” and physically cringed. I remember clearly a moment a few years ago when a woman came into the jewelry store where I was working, asking about making a series of custom Mjolnir hammers because Thor had told her that it was her responsibility to do something about the growing presence of Nazis in the visible Heathen community. The store was (and is) explicitly magical / New Age / Pagan, so this was a little less weird than it might sound, but it was still incredibly jarring. This woman didn’t know me from Adam, and she was – to put it in the least flattering light possible – talking to me about hearing voices. Nor do I think I am alone in seeing any public claim of “channeled messages” (that phrase in particular) as a glowing red flag.

I’ve been thinking about this off and on for the last week, and have not come up with any answers that I’m comfortable with. Public channeled messages are almost always weirdly invasive, and have historically often served as the hook for literal grifts and cons. There are reasons they had to be banned in the Facebook group I helped moderate a few years back. At the same time, spirit contact has historically composed the overwhelming majority of magical practices in the Western mystical tradition (and, to the best of my knowledge, most others, but that’s not my lane). The Greek Magical Papyri is literally nothing but a stack of notes on how to beg, bribe, or coerce spirits into doing something for you. The Picatrix and other astrological image magic revolves around timing your spirit petitions so that they will do the most perfect job of what you want. The Solomonic tradition is just about getting a cohort of very specific spirits to do what you want, based on very specific rites and their very specific specialties. This is not to say that I don’t believe in and practice magic based in the energy and cybernetic models of magic as well, but spirit-model is – to use one of my least favorite neologisms – the GOAT.

Which is all to say that the best magical practitioners are almost all involved in some degree of spirit contact, and are therefore both talking to and listening to spirits. So why do so many of us hold back from talking about that? And why do we – myself very much included here – get so uncomfortable when people break that silence?

Speaking only for myself, it comes partly from my deep-seated fear of institutionalization. I read too much Victorean literature as a child and have spent the subsequent decades in terror of being thrown into a sanatorium. It also comes from how difficult spirit contact has always been for me. I have been able to see and sense spirits since my teens, but only learned to hear or understand them with any reliability in my early thirties, and only developed real confidence with that in the last three or four years. And, finally, I think it comes at least in part from a fear of cringe-by-association: we’ve seen the weirdos and grifters in both physical and online spaces, people who will approach you with a “message from the spirits”, people whose guides and allies seem to be leading them astray, people who think that their cat or dog or ferret is a magical familiar, and we frankly don’t want to be mistaken from them.

So, I’ll talk about how my familiar spirits advise and aid me on the selection of astrological elections, and the consecration of elected talismans. I’ll talk about my daily offerings, and how I came to offer coffee instead of wine – well, in addition to wine. But I don’t talk about the advice they give me about my mundane life. I don’t talk about the adventures we go on together, physically or astrally. I don’t talk about the strange and complex interactions between my familiars, or about the hints I sometimes get of their lives outside of mortal contact.

I don’t even know that these boundaries are wrong or unreasonable. Maybe it’s for the best that we self-censor like this. But as someone who always had a certain amount of physical community, but still mostly learned magic from books and experiments, I would have loved to know more about the nitty gritty details of spirit contact when I got started. Because the idealized form that so many people talk about … well, frankly, eleven years since the conjuration of my Natal Genius and Daimon and the experiments that followed, I still haven’t experienced it.

In witchcraft

Order of Offerings: Spirits Before Gods

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

Last August I started a magical experiment that technically failed but which became the first thirty days of a now-fifteen month streak of daily ritual praxis that is, without question, my longest uninterrupted run. The experiment was aimed at manifesting concrete desires and measurable results. The first thing my familiar spirits told me( a week or so into that experiment) was, “Make this about us.” I did. the next thing they told me was, “We’re not going to manifest anything you don’t actually want.” Which was, arguably, the end of my career as a chaos magician, and absolutely the doom-bell for that manifestation experiment.

My familiar spirits had a lot to say at first. They helped me craft a ritual that suited their needs as well as mine. Sometimes, what they wanted was very clear and easy to do. Other times, I could tell what they wanted but had to explain that things like “I’m not that rich” were relevant. Still other times I could tell that they were talking to me, that they wanted something, but I either just couldn’t hear them or just couldn’t quite make sense of what they said.

But the daily ritual continued. I listened a lot. Asked for little (have occasionally been told to ask for more!). And I have learned so, so much – not least of which is how to hear these spirits, something that has always been a challenge for me.

The longer the ritual goes on, the less frequently I get new instructions. The most recent change to my rituals is one of the more significant. It also was one that took them longer than average to communicate to me, because it was a matter of order of operations.

When the ritual began, it was just my familiar spirits. But the spare bedroom where that altar lives is also where I house the altar for the sex-positive (quais-) Venusian gods that I honor. And after a few months of pouring out offerings while the other gods just ~watched~, it seemed appropriate to begin daily offerings to Aphrodite, Eros, Lucifer, Dionysos, and Baphomet, as well. And because of my quasi-Hellenistic influences and the nature of ~authority~, it seemed to be appropriate to make offerings to the gods first, then my familiar

the last month or so, it became clear that this was not the correct order of operations. But, being dense, I couldn’t figure out what the needed changes were. Fortunately, when clarity came, it came with an explanation: let us share in the blessings.

I now invoke my familiar spirits first, pouring their coffees and lighting their candles, and give them a moment to manifest before moving on to praying for the various blessings of the gods. And, when I utter those prayers, I pray for *us*: “Hail unto you, O Baphomet, we pray you awaken the light of your gnostic fire within us and within the world…”Every day since I made this change, I have felt my familiars and I growing closer, and felt them growing stronger from the blessings we now share.

So, if you work with familiar spirits, and there is room in your traditions to make such a change, I strongly suggest that you give it a try: call your spirits first, before your gods, so that when you do invoke the higher/greater/other powers, your spirits may share in those powers’ blessings with you.

In witchcraft

Continuing Experiments in Stellar Sorcery: Spirit of the Sun

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

Early in the days of Covid, and toward the beginning of Jack Grayle’s class on the magic of the PGM, my partner and I took advantage of an auspicious astrological moment to consecrate an assortment of Solar talismans. The ritual went well. The power rose. The spirits came. All in all, we consecrated four mixed-media paper talismans of the sort I have had great success with before, three pieces of black amber, and a citrine set in silver.

But lockdown was in full force, and would remain so for months to come. Aradia took her paper talismans to work when her office reopened. The rest of talismans languished on my altar for a full year. I experimented with a few different ways of wearing the citrine, but none of them were quite right.

The first movement happened toward the end of spring, this year, when, in need of some old-school razzle-dazzle, I settled on wearing the citrine as an earring (upsides of being a sorcerous jeweler, and being able to manufacture my own findings at a whim) as part of an overall wave of you-will-never-hear-the-details magics to keep my life together.

The next action came my best friend, Kraken, bought a house in May: my familiar spirits informed me that one of the enchanted amber pieces was for them. That was easy. I don’t know what, if anything, they’ve done with it. But feedback is a courtesy, not a requirement, when you give someone a magical gift.

Things escalated shortly thereafter. The talisman, when not in my ear, began clamoring for a more prominent place on altar, not with my planetary lamens and seals and talismans and maeteria, but to join my familiar spirits and receive the accompanying daily offerings and honors. This was not wholly unprecedented. My Venus talisman from the January Venus in Pisces consecration experiment made similar requests, as I alluded to in my last post on these experiments. But it still came as a bit of a surprise. Upon hearing and comprehending the request, I began searching for an appropriate idol. Unfortunately, that sort of religious statuary was an early casualty of the supply chain issues which have been escalating since the pandemic first hit and which have finally become mainstream news. Ultimately, I decided that a space on the altar was more important than an image.

That decided, I set aside extra time on a Sunday morning in June to sit with the talisman and commune with its spirit. It told me its name and helped me to draw its sigil. It now lives on the altar when not in my ear and partakes of my daily coffee offering ritual along with my other familiar spirits. Communications and negotiations are ongoing, and I hesitate to say too much, but I am already learning form this spirit.

The thing that I am prepared to say, a few months in, is that either my chaos magic and witchcraft backgrounds make my experiences with astrological talismans very different from other, more traditional ceremonial magicians, of those magicians are desperately failing to communicate what they actually mean when they talk about the care and feeding of a talisman. Because my experiences — particularly as I get further away from my very earliest experiments — is that these are not mute magical servitors whose efficacy waxes and wanes with the attention given them, but talking spirits who listen, learn, teach, and act.