PRELIMINARY DIVINATION
I’m not always very good about divining before enchanting, but I thought that this culminating ritual would be an exceptionally good time to observe best practices. Unfortunately, as you can see, the outcome is less than clear. Obviously, I decided to proceed anyway.
The original automatically drawn trance image wasn’t very pretty, so I sat down with my sketchbook and had a little fun with it. Behold my Natal Demon, henceforth referred to here as SKM.
Dawn yesterday was officially at 6:12am. I was (am) staying at a friend’s house in St.Louis, spending my last weekend with Aradia partying in the city we both loved (but not at the same time) with old friends before I make the second half of the trek from KC to back the Sunrise Temple for the semester.
My alarm was set for 5:50. I woke at 5:25. I tried to go back to sleep, but all I could think about was the Solar election and the morning’s coming ritual. I did it over and over again in my head. I had forgotten to prep my sigils, but the glyph I’ve used for the Jupiter, Mercury, and Venus talismans rose from the depths of my brain as I lay there, waiting for the alarm: “Mine is the Favor of Kings.”
Finally, the alarm went off. I woke Aradia and gathered everything I would need, laying things out in Aurora’s altar room. We cast our circle a few minutes before the Hour of the Sun began officially. I ground my frankincense and myrrh; we scribed our names inside the paper talismans that I had printed during the Hour of the Sun on Friday night, knowing I wouldn’t have access to a printer on the road, and assembled the component parts. The front is an image provided by Christopher Warnock to the Spiritus Mundi group; the back bears my Glyph of the Moon and the Agrippan Characters of the Sun; sealed in between is the blend of frankincense and myrrh. All three talismans assembled (one each for myself, Aurora, and Aradia), and each associated with a piece of amber jewelry, I placed them in the middle of my Triangle of Art with a candle lit over the glyph of the Sun.
I incanted the Picatrix Invocation of the Sun, and Aradia and I drew the power of the sun into the Circle and poured it into the Triangle and the talismans. I incanted the Invocation again as Aradia continued to direct the power.
The talismans completed, we promptly went back to sleep.
The ring I empowered is on my hand even now. It almost burns with power, and it’s going to take a while for me to get used to wearing that kind of spellcraft on my person.
The paper talismans rest on Aurora’s altar, gathering power while we linger in St. Louis. I can’t wait to see how these bad boys change our lives. I think it’s going to be epic.
I had been hoping there would be a Solar election soon, so that I could add that power to my collection. I am grateful that it came exactly when it did. I need this now as I transition from one life to the next, and as I shift gears magically.
Only one last conjuration remains before I begin what Aradia and I have been calling Project Null: the conjuration of Baphomet.
In retrospect, I wish that I had set more concrete goals for my year of studying ceremonial magic. I started with a particular programme, but I abandoned it about half way through as inadequate to the task it proposed. I did refine my goals a little short of half way through, but even those were not particularly specific: to begin the pursuit of a supernatural assistant, to form connections with the Planetary and Elemental Powers, to begin producing a grimoire for people of a more polytheist bent, unable to swallow the top-down, antropocentric cosmology of Ptolemy. Realizing even then that my original time frame of a year could well prove inadequate, I mused about pushing it out to eighteen months or more. As you, my clever readers, have already inferred, I have decided against extending my study for now: I am content with the Work I have accomplished in the last year.
There are quite a few projects that I haven’t found the time or clarity to write about yet, but only two goal experiments remain before I am ready to begin my year with Chaos magick. Through the Spiritus Mundi group, I have learned of a Solar Election this weekend, which will allow me to create the one talisman I had wanted to but not yet had the chance. Using that election, I will create a talisman for the Favor of Kings—like those I have created for Jupiter, Venus, and Mercury—and a Solar ring of power. And when the Dark Moon comes, I will use my shiny new Circle of the Art to conjure Baphomet and empower my Chaosphere.
Celebrated around the 1st of August, also known as Lughnasadh. Under the sign of Leo.
Lammas is first of three harvest festivals celebrated by witches. It reaffirms the rites performed in the fertility festivals: assuring that the harvest will not just be plentiful, but that the fruits of that harvest will fill their life-sustaining function. This is an excellent holiday to honor sacrificial harvest gods, such as John Barleycorn, Dionysus, Tammuz, and of course, Lugh. This is also an ideal time for cauldron rituals.
Celebrations involve blessing of grains & loaves.
From my own formal Book of Shadows, drawn largely from the works of Janet and Stuart Farrar as well as other “traditional” sources. Its very brevity speaks volumes. I mean, seriously: y’all read this blog. Even when I don’t have much to say, I take a while to say it.
Back in Lawrence, the first of August was always fraught because of my job. Most of the leases in town turn over on that day, and the jeweler I worked for was also a landlord. Even when I wasn’t, myself, moving, the whole week surrounding Lammas was fucked dealing with refurbishing his apartments almost literally overnight. On what was almost always the hottest day of the year.
Not the sort of conditions that really facilitate a religious experience. And … I’ve never managed to escape the Midwest, which means that Lammastime remains hot and nasty as fuck. Although I’m better with the heat now than I ever have been, it still leaves me crushed and oppressed. This year more than most.
There was a public ritual last Sunday. Pasiphae and Aidan attended; they did a ritual to summon rain. I wanted to go, but I was working the mall on the wrong side of town. I would have been two hours late, and that shit is never cool. I never got around to celebrating it on my own, either. I didn’t even make any mead.
I think Scylla put it best in her tumblr post:
But there’s nothing fertile, or restful right now. There’s angry fire, bitter wind, and pain. This is not “Fall” – this is Sekhmet at Noon, throwing iron bolts down at the unbelievers. This is “Will it ever rain? Will it ever be cool? Will Winter come? Is Winter going to be as mean and fearsome?”
There is no loving father-god slipping his lance into any fecund goddess’ chalice. There’s no fucking. There’s no fertility. No. Fucking. Fertility.
Candles? AT A TIME LIKE THIS?! WHAT THE FUCK?! Baking? Holy shit, howabout NO? You want to eat bread and heavy shit? I want to remember what not dying of heat stroke feels like. (Bold italics mine.)
And then there’s the whole question of, what does this harvest mean in the modern world? Or as an urban witch?
So, yeah. I skipped Lammas again.
If I had stuck to my original plan and followed Penczak’s Temple of High Witchcraft precisely, I would even now be completing an illustrated map of the cosmos to replace the Qabalistic Tree of Life in my own theology. I’ll get to that eventually, but I would like to explore the Planetary Realms and the pathways between them a little more thoroughly before I try to map the Labyrinth of the Obsidian Dream.
In the meantime, however, my studies of ceremonialism, Hermetics, and astrological magic have culminated in enough understanding to produce this much:
My Circle of the Art
I suppose it is a cosmogram of sorts: god-names in the outer ring, then the Planets followed by the signs of the zodiac—celestial powers and the lenses through which they are focused—and, finally, the Triangle of Conjuration in the center representing the material world. The names in the outer ring were chosen carefully, of course. Dionysus and Rhea, long-standing allies and friends. Hermes, patron of this art. And Hekate, patron of (among other things) witches. All powers of somehow ambiguous status in regards to the earth, the underworld, and the upper realms. Iao and Agathos Daimon: two visions of Mystery and all-consuming power. Drawn large enough to be used as a base for other work, I may place stones or candles at the appropriate planetary or astrological glyphs, and/or place talismans of relevant powers within the circle and the triangle. It’s nowhere nearly as cool as RO’s Box or Skyllaros’ Conjuration Station … but it’s a start.
Although I will be redirecting the bulk of my efforts toward the study of Chaos Magick—I have already begun reading Liber Null and finally acquired a copy of Condensed Chaos to re-read—I will not actually be abandoning what I have learned over the last year. There will be astrological elections too good to resist. There will be moments when planetary magic or more formal rites will be more appropriate to the task at hand. There will be things I need to deal with that I might not be willing to engage using the “bare handed” techniques of Chaos. This, and the altar I inscribe it on, will be there for me when those times come.
I almost didn’t perform the conjuration yesterday: a series of coincidences and a side of bad planning ended with me not having the apartment to myself at any Hour of the Sun. So once I’d worked on my scholarship application until my brain was running out my ears, I decided to have a number and work on other projects in front of the boob tube.
With the Fifth Hour of Night, though, the urge to Work fell over me like a weight: I reached for my sketchbook and finished inking the Circle of Art I had designed for the conjuration of my Natal Demon, whose name I had calculated according to Agrippa (using Frater Acher’s lovely spreadsheet) and whose sigil I had drawn using that name and the Rosy Cross. I was already high, but it was the magic that really clouded my mind: despite the presence of Aradia’s atheist room mate, which barred me from employing more formal ritual, I could feel the daimon coming on even before I completed the Circle.
The names on the Circle (for those who can’t read Greek) are Helios, Phoibos, and Agathos Daimon. The glyphs are the planetary symbol and Grand Seal of the Sun, and the Seal of Och. I first conjured my Natal Genius under the auspices of the Moon, so it seemed appropriate to conjure my Natal Demon under the auspices of the Sun. My Demon’s sigil and name have, of course, been edited out, but they were drawn in the innermost circle.
When the circle was done and empowered to the best of my ability under the circumstances, I pulled the page from my sketchbook and laid it on my lapdesk. Almost immediately, the sigil appeared to me to become an eye. Grabbing my sketchbook, I drew that eye on the page and from there the image of my Natal Demon began to flow. Perhaps it was the amount of time I spent contemplating this ritual; perhaps the stars were just in better alignment; maybe I’ve actually learned something since my first conjuration experiment. Whatever: the connection was much stronger than it was when I made my first attempt to contact my Natal Genius, ZG.
During that Hour of the Sun, my Natal Demon was able to instruct me somewhat in its nature and image. It appeared to me as a narrow-faced humanoid, with an attentive expression. Its body was slender and tall, and from its back sprung two pairs of wings. Something rose from its head: I thought it a third pair of wings, but it may also have been horns or a helmet. It informed me that its nature was that of Jupiter, and of the Sun in Scorpio, and the Moon in Virgo. Perhaps most interestingly, the name of my Natal Genius was echoing through my head for most of the time I was performing the automatic drawing, leaving me uncertain whether the Genius and Demon are, in fact, separate entities or different faces of the same spirit.
When the vision began to fade, I put the Circle on the altar and made an offering of incense and a votive candle, thanking it and bidding it license to depart. In all, I would call the experiment a qualified success. I wish I had been able to stick with my original plan, but at the same time: sometimes the magic arranges to be performed the way it wants to be.
Ingredients
3 cups dark red kidney beans (~1.5 lbs)
4 cups rice
1.5 lbs Cajun sausage
3 lbs small onions
4 sticks celery
1 clove elephant garlic
4 medium carrots
1 bell peppers
1 jalapeño
3 bay leaves
2 tbs paprika
1 tsp pepper
1 tsp sea salt
sprig of fresh basil
1 tsp worcestershire sauce
1 tsp habanero hot sauce
Directions
(Grossly oversimplified, use your favorite search engine as needed)
Soak and cook beans. Finely dice all vegetables. When ready and add the sausage, vegetables, 
herbs, spices, and sauce. Cook for one hour while you prepare the rice.
Serve with beer and corn bread at a 1.5:1 rice to bean goo ratio.
Devour.
I failed to do a reading for the last month. I’m irritated at myself for that, of course. At the same time I’m not sure how the cards could have prepared me for the past month’s main challenge: sheer exhaustion brought on by twelve-hour days in that psychic cesspool known as a shopping mall.
The forecast for the coming lunar month is largely positive, but there are a few points of interest both high and low. There are also a lot of oddities. Apparent disharmonies between the cards and their placements have driven me, at last, to consult the Book of Thoth, itself. To my delight, I have apparently acquired a sufficient grasp of Qabalah (if not I Ching) to follow the text, if not to master it.
As is my custom, I framed my question as “Dark Moon to Dark Moon, what awaits me in the coming month?”
Even if my time with ceremonial magic were up now instead of a month from now, there are still some projects that I would need to see through. One of those is my latest experiment with the Stele of Jeu: talismans inscribed with the beneficial sign.
The first one I made at Heartland Pagan Festival.
The second I inscribed at the jewelry store I’ve been working at over the summer.
For this one, I used the variation on the Beneficial Sign favored by the Order of the Hollow Ones, as I thought it would make a more attractive piece of jewelry The inscription, which is difficult to read because I’m still learning to use the engraving machine, are the first and last lines from the final passage of the Stele in the original Greek:
ἐγώ εἰμι ὁ ἀκέφαλος δαίμων ἐν τοῖς ποσὶν ἔχων τὴν ὅρασιν … ἐγώ εἰμι ἡ Χάρις τοῦ Αἰῶνος, ὄνομά μοι καρδία περιεζωσμένη ὄφιν. ἔξελθε καὶ ἀκολούθησον.
I am the headless spirit[1] with sight in my feet[2] … my name is a heart encircled by a serpent. Come forth and follow.
During my lunar rites last night, I dedicated the second talisman by laying it across the first as I performed most of the rite, donning it as I incanted the final passage.
Boy, howdy, does it tingle. I look forward to carrying it as a talisman of power and protection, and as the most obscure way for fellow magicians to identify me EVAR[3].
1 – As I’m sure you all know, the Greek noun “daimon”, which it currently seems fashionable to leave untranslated, can be understood as spirit, demon, god, or even soul. Interestingly, my studies thus far seem to indicate that it overlaps pretty thoroughly with the Latin “genius”. More experienced students of Greek and Latin may win my undying love by sharing their thoughts on this matter.
2 – The verb here is “echo”, which conveys an interesting sense of “I am the headless spirit who holds his sight in his feet”.
3 – This is kinda like if you see me at the bar on toga night and say, “Hey! That’s a peplos not a toga!”
