Journey Through The Obsidian Dream

Struggling for Practice

Satyr Magos09/04/2011

My actual ability to maintain a regular practice is better than my ability to maintain this blog … but not by much. Since staring the new semester, my life has been a mess of work, school, not-quite-enough sleep, and a few other troubles that I’ll actually get into in posts of their own.

I’ve pretty much lost track of the moons. I didn’t even do a Full Moon reading in February, and I haven’t ever gotten around to decoding the one I did in March. I haven’t checked back with my annual reading since January. I haven’t done a Dark Moon journey in longer than I care to contemplate, and Aradia and I didn’t get our Yule altar down until Ostara. I missed the last Dark Moon by a matter of days, even as I was slowly drafted this post.

Of course, there’s no chance that all of this is related to how stressed out I’ve been lately, is there? No, perish the thought!

Things are finally looking up. I did (finally) start my Imbolc mead with a little help from a late snowstorm and our Brid candles. I’m researching recipes for a similarly belated Ostara mead, but the internet is being less than helpful. I have done public Tarot readings on the last two First Fridays. I have gotten back to doing weekly and daily readings – three- and one-card respectively.

You can’t change the past. All I can do is strive to do better.

I’m getting ready to bottle my Beltane mead – I finally have artwork for the bottle. Sadly, it looks like Aradia and I will be celebrating that sabbat by ourselves – Pasiphae and Aidan are otherwise occupied, as are others we’ve worked with in the past. Which will make things interesting, as duo Beltane rituals run an above average risk of ending in pregnancy. Some creativity may be required.

We will be out at Gaea, though. So perhaps we will be able to join a public rite, or be invited to a smaller one.

In art

“Kneeling Satyr”

Satyr Magos04/04/2011

Lo, behold the satyr wild – fierce and bold and free –

from Dionysos’ revel he but stops to rest

and fall upon upon a bended knee,

‘neath twisting branches verdigris,

and offer thanks for life by Bacchus blessed.

Crowned he is by curling locks and grapen vine,

a face cursed by beauty, yet lit by wicked grin:

for his sculpted chest is brazen, bare, and fine,

and ‘twixt lean hips kitled in goat-skin,

hangs Priapos’ boon, not quite hidden.

One clawed hand he rests on muscled thigh,

his breath restored, and his ardor keen.

The other paw he lifts toward gods and sky –

his eyes fierce-bright with silver sheen –

and that grin, first wicked, leers now obscene.

A poem from my Creative Writing class. Prior to this class, I had not written poetry since high school, and it is doubtful that I will ever do so again unless similarly forced. Still, I’m not displeased with this piece: an ode to a statue, perhaps once a lamp, almost certainly an idol. The photograph is mine, taken in the Nelson-Atkins museum of Kansas City, MO.

Those who know me in the real world, of course, have already seen this poem posted elsewhere, but not the picture.

In scholarship

Academic Rites of Passage

Satyr Magos14/02/2011

In this last week I have undergone two rites of passage binding me closer to the world of formal academia.

Monday, I accepted the invitation – originally received last May, but overlooked because I didn’t really understand what the organization was, or what opportunities it would have afforded me – to join the Phi Theta Kappa honor society. Membership in the society will open a number of doors for me (though not quite so many as it would have had I accepted the invitation immediately, and with it a great deal of scholarship money I didn’t know existed), ranging from letters of recommendation, to possible transfer scholarships, and perhaps even to consideration for the larger honor society upon which it was patterned, Phi Beta Kappa. If nothing else, it is a welcome recognition of my academic accomplishments so far, and confers upon me the right to fancy regalia at my graduation ceremony in May.

Saturday, I endured the trial of the ACT in the hopes of securing admission to such lofty schools as the University of Chicago or Reed College, which require such rituals even of transfer juniors. This particular trial (and/or its competitor, the SAT) is actually one of the things that I was elated to avoid when I first decided against college. Though I did not study as hard for this test as perhaps I should have, but I believe that I did well. If nothing else, I am certain that I did at least as well on the real thing as I did on the practice test, on which I received a score of 29.

The college testing experience is, I believe, nearly universal in the United States. I remember clearly being pressured and herded toward the PSATs and the SAT in high school. Although Wikipedia assures me that the ACT is more popular in the midwest, it’s not the one I remember being “encouraged” to take. That element of shared experience, combined with the fiscal sacrifice, the rigid structure, and the intellectual ordeal, makes the ACT an excellent example, in my opinion, of a non-magical rite of passage.

The Phi Theta Kappa membership (particularly if I have the opportunity to be formally inducted) is a slightly different rite of passage. I was selected by a mysterious organization based on my academic performance, I made a sacrifice (again, money), and will be rewarded with certain signs that will set me apart from the larger student body and with access to information available only to initiates.

Interestingly, the Greek letters Phi Theta Kappa stand in this case, not for a motto, but for virtues – wisdom, aspiration and purity – and the group associates itself with Athena. Fortunately, She was already on my list of deities for whom I required idols.

In witchcraft

A Dark Time of the Year

Satyr Magos07/02/2011

According to the Wheel of the Year, Imbolc is the time when we can begin looking forward of spring. We have passed the depth of the darkness with Yule, and entered the Waxing Year. Fires are lit, beer is brewed, and Brigit – however you choose to spell Her Name – is invoked for her blessings of warmth, health, fertility, and artifice.

In Kansas City, however, early February is the coldest, darkest part of the year. This year more so than usual, with an straight-from-the-ice-of-Hel blizzard starting the evening of Monday 1 February and lasting through Wednesday 3 February. The roads had barely even been cleared after the first round of foot-deep snow. Aradia had to put off a business trip for two days, waiting for them to clear the I-70 corridor; I lost another two and a half days of classes.

Somehow, Aradia and I just weren’t feeling that Imbolc Fire. We sat around the house watching bad TV and trying not to think about how cold it was outside. We still haven’t changed over our altar from Yule, and I haven’t yet started the Imbolc batch of mead.

For the last week I’ve been living on leftovers and takeout. The house gets dirtier. My mind gets more and more scattered. I didn’t really sleep last night. I should be doing more homework, using the snow days to ahead in my classes; working harder on my admission essays, due the first of March; and studying for my ACT, which is this coming Saturday. I’m keeping up with my classes, and working again, and making progress on the essays … but the ACT scares me so bad that it hurts – an almost physical pain – to think about it. It’s hard to say which of these things is “cause” and which are “effect”.

Aradia comes back from St.Louis tomorrow, and I need to get the house clean enough for us to change out the altar and celebrate Imbolc. Hell, I need to get the house clean enough that I don’t feel like a fucking bum. I need to get my head screwed on straight so I can sleep and get done what I need to get done. The ritual will make me feel better. Having another gallon of mead bubbling away under the altar will make me feel better. Having my shit together will make me feel better, and feeling better will make it easier to keep my shit together.

This semester could easily define me for the rest of my life. I need to not fuck it up.

In art, witchcraft

Yule Altar 2010

Satyr Magos18/12/2010

Aradia and I finally got around to setting up the Yule altar. Last year, we focused a lot on the sun and the rebirth. With the full moon coinciding this year, we decided to do a lot more balance.

The centerpiece, which you can’t quite see in the photo, is a mask I made last year for the Summer and Winter solstices: black on one side and yellow on the other, with a solar disk on the brow and golden horns at the corners. The seemingly out-of-place jug under the tree is honey destined for the Yule mead.

In witchcraft

Stomach-soothing Ginger Tea

Satyr Magos17/12/2010

Something made me sick yesterday. I’m not sure if it was the perhaps-too-old soup I had for lunch, or the reubens Aradia and I had for dinner Wednesday night. Several friends recommended Kimchee – which, granted, I’ve been meaning to add to my fermentation experiments; it’s on the list after kimbucha – but I wasn’t willing to pour that into an already sour stomach. So the Squirrel Bandit provided me with this:

Take a 3 inch thumb of ginger (do not bother to peel it -just cut off funky parts)and grate it or slice it into a small soup pot and 6 cups water (2 cups if you are making syrup for later in the week). Boil until the kitchen smells like ginger and the water gets yellowish, add 4 Tb honey and wait a few minutes. If you can handle it add 2 Tb lemon or lime juice.

Drink hot or add syrup to seltzer after chilling.

Tasty and soothing.

In Uncategorized

Coming out of Hibernation

Satyr Magos13/12/2010

Solstice approaches and the daylight wanes almost to nothing. Here in Kansas City we’ve just had our first snow and our first night below 0F. The semester is over, with only one final exam left between me and (hopefully) sounder sleep. It seems as good a time as any to reacquaint myself with the world.

At 14,000 words my NaNoWriMo novel is neither a failure nor a success: in fewer than 20 days I doubled my fiction word count for the school year. I’ve written one major and one minor paper in the last two weeks, the first of which I may share here.

I’m working on my recipe for my Yule mead. While searching for inspiration, I found a fantastic beginner’s recipe: http://www.moremead.com/mead_logs/Ancient_OCC.html

And while I’m sharing links, I found this while catching up on Chas Clifton’s blog: http://mysterytheater.blogspot.com/2010/10/free-classic-weird-fiction.html

Happy day, all.

In art, witchcraft

Thought of the Day

Satyr Magos07/11/2010

I’m not posting much for two reasons: 1) I still haven’t gotten back on that big magical bandwagon yet, though I’m doing better; and, 2) it’s National Novel Writing Month. Because it’s NaNoWriMo time, and because I just did the First Friday thing to celebrate my birthday with one of my oldest friends, I’m in a certain headspace. Eris Hilton has recently summed up that headspace well (though the rest of the post is actually unrelated):

Magic isn’t rocket science …

It’s rocket art.

Interestingly, in the midst of my frenzied writing, I’ve had a couple breakthroughs with key ideas on how to develop my own mystery tradition without relying any more than absolutely necessary with some of the more … problematic elements of neoPagan cultural appropriation.

One word: Labyrinth.

Aradia’s Kuri Pumkin Soup

Satyr Magos25/10/2010

This recipe was invented spontaneously, after reading half a dozen recipes. The pumpkin we used also has a French name, which translates as “walnut pumpkin”, but I can’t find a reference at the moment.

6 lbs kuri pumpkin, halved & cleaned (appx. 5-6 pumpkins)

2 apples, diced

1 onion, diced

7 cups of chicken stock

1 cup of apple cider

1 tsp each, ground: cumin, nutmeg

1/2 tsp each, ground: cardamom, clove, ginger, cinnamon, pepper

1 cup cream

Crème fresh.

Begin by halving your pumpkins. Kuri pumpkins are small, but very hard to cut according to our sources. (Apparently our sources didn’t have a good Chinese cleaver.)

Baste the halves with olive oil, season with salt and pepper, then bake at 350 for about 60-90 minutes – basically until they’re done. Check on them every 15-20 minutes after 45. When ready, pull the pumpkins from the oven and set them aside.

While the pumpkins cool so that you can touch them, dice the onion and apples, and measure out your spices. When you can handle the pumpkins, scoop out the flesh into a stock pot. Add the other ingredients and boil them on medium to medium-high (you know your stove better than I) for an hour or so, until the flavors are starting to come together.

It won’t be quite right yet. Don’t worry. Puree the soup in a food processor or with a boat motor, whichever you prefer. The flavor should be coming together now. Allow to cook until you’re ready to serve, then add the cream.

Serve with a dollop of crème fresh … or sour cream if you’re poor like us.

We served ours with a loaf for farl bread, from Paul Hollywood’s “100 Great Breads” (p.31).

In hedonism, witchcraft

the Full Moon, a Feast, and My Decision to Buy a Besom

Satyr Magos24/10/2010

Aradia and I celebrated the full moon two nights ago, and had our early Samhain feast last night. Neither of these would be as significant, except that we’ve rather “fallen off the wagon” with both our magical practices and our social lives. So we decided it was time to have a party.

The story actually starts last weekend, getting the house ready for an old friend of Aradia’s to visit from St. Louis. Reflecting our mental and emotional states as I creep up on six months of unemployement and we both struggle with classes, our house was something of a disaster. Our house altar had been almost untouched since our practice group stopped meeting shortly after the Summer Solstice. It took us most of the week, but the house was clean (if not cleansed) and the altar prepared for Samhain less than half an hour before Firebird & Crew arrived.

Firebird brought three friends with her : two fellow spinners/manipulators, A and C, and A’s ladyfriend N, who invited herself along despite not having any actual interest in the entire affair. MagicCat didn’t like them at all, which turned out to be a red flag. Firebird was good fun, but her friends should have just stayed in St.L. By the time they left, Aradia, myself, and our house were all toxic. So we cast a circle and cleansed the house like we should have done before they got there.

Suddenly, everything was beautiful again. The Circle snapped into place as soon as we lit the Air candle, like we’d never left off. We went room-to-room with a burning wand of white sage and a lavender oil mister. We even did the porch.

Living with another witch for the last year has really changed my mind on a lot of things. Aradia and I went to the KC Renaissance Festival a month or so ago, and one of the vendors we passed by specialized in ornate “decorative” brooms. For the first time, I found myself seriously thinking about owning and using a besom. Given my absurdly macho, psuedo-ceremonial roots, this is not a tool that most of the things I’ve done or studied put any emphasis on. I’ve only used a besom once, in fact, when I helped make one for a workshop out at Heartland this last May. When we went back to the Faire last weekend with Firebird & Crew, we passed the same vendor and I found myself thinking – not “is this a tool I need?” but “which of these would be best for me?”. Apparently I had made my decision sometime in between … probably while pushing the broom.

Fast forward a week. The house is actually still clean, though in need of some work. We’re both still in a fantastic mood, despite the stress.

I originally had plans for Friday night, but they were canceled when the gremlins in Aradia’s car threw a party to remind everyone they were still there. I don’t remember exactly what she said about her own plans for the evening, but my response …

“It’s the full moon?”

When I say fell off the wagon, I’m not fucking joking.

We went over to Aradia’s family’s house to help them with the annual brush-burn and to incinerate a few things that that should have been disposed of long ago. We took our drums and tranced out for a while before doing our full moon tarot readings. It wasn’t formal, structured, or intense, but it was what we needed. We need to work our way back up to intense, and we’ve got about seven days. (Samhain’s totally going to kick my ass.)

Saturday came, and with it our pre-Samhain pumpkin party. We didn’t know what anyone’s plans for the actual weekend would be, or if there would be a ritual at all, so we decided to host a feast and carve jak-o-lanterns. The invitations went out almost a month ago.

I helped Aradia make pumpkin soup out of the five kuri pumpkins (the green-and-orange ones) you saw on the altar, and Aradia made a loaf of amazing tasty bread. We drank tasty pumpkin beer. My parents brought an amazing autumn stew. Our neighbor, K, brought pumpkin-filled doughnuts. Our friends Pasiphae and Aiden brought a feast all by themselves: pumpkin-banana bread, pumpkin-cheesecake pie, and Halloween-themed jell-o-snacks. (They also brought their munchkins – the MagicCat was not amused.)

We all had so much fun that we never got to the pumpkin carving part.