From the Sorcerer’s Workbench: Consecrated Jupiter Talismans

{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.

Picatrix Image of the Moon

This week, after literally years of waffling between planets and images to pursue next, I have finally produced another talismanic image from the Picatrix, following up on the Image of Venus that I produced so many years ago.

“The image of the moon according to the opinion of Picatrix is the form of a man who has the head of a bird, and he holds a stick above him, and he has a tree before him.”

— Picatrix Bk.II Ch.10, p.105, as translated by Greer and Warnock.

As with my Venus talisman, I turned to the grand planetary seal and the Agrippan characters for the reverse.

Although I could probably rationalize it in a variety of ways – a decision to pursue the rest of the talismans in Chaldean order, perhaps, or a fictitious upcoming election (this year sucks, there are no elections – my decision to make an Image of the Moon was ultimately based on the easy availability of the most appropriate metal: silver. By that same logic I should probably do a Solar image next, for all that probably no one will be able to afford the ten pennyweights of 14k gold.

The image I selected was not my absolute favorite. That honor goes to an image described on the preceding page: “… a woman with a beautiful face, with a dragon about your waist, having horns on her head with two snakes encircling them, and with two more snakes entwined around each of her arms, and a dragon above her head and another dragon under her feet, and both these dragons have seven heads.” which is somewhat beyond my current ability to produce a mold positive. But I think that a second bird-headed figure makes a fine follow-up to my Venus talisman, and I know that I need to enjoy the few relatively simple images presented in the Picatrix.

I have already ordered the mold positive of this Image, and will hopefully be able to present the first silver prototype in early August. It will probably end up being priced identically to the Venus — $116 in my Etsy store, assuming that the price of silver does not continue to rise, and will be available in brass and bronze for those who are less concerned with material than image.

The Dweller at the Threshold … Again

At the beginning of the summer, I took on two projects that have given me much more trouble than I anticipated.  To my frustration, the trouble has not been that the work, itself, is beyond me, but rather the emotional crisis that it has precipitated.

Skylights

With the conclusion of the 2012-13 academic year, I have been studying and experimenting with ceremonial magic for two years.  I have conjured my Natal Genius and Daemon.  I have journeyed to each of the seven Spheres via both neo-shamanic visionary techniques and by conjuring archangels to lead the way.  I have employed electional astrology to create talismans of great power, and conjured the powers of the planets to influence the shape of politics.

I recognize that this is a pittance, and that I have barely scratched the surface of the subject matter.  I have dabbled in the Golden Dawn and Agrippa the Picatrix and the Arbatel, mostly via Christopher Penczak, Rufus Opus, Christopher Warnock, and a few other modern authors.  Although I await Aaron Leitch’s new book eagerly, I have not yet even made the most cursory study of Enochian magic.  Although I have read Crowley/Mather’s Goetia, I have never conjured any of those demons.  There are countless grimoires of which I know precisely nothing.

With that said, however, I think that the products of my experiments—my insights and my struggles—may be useful to others.  There are core concepts in ceremonial magic that are simply alien to anyone coming from a witchcraft background like my own, and straightforward presentation of the core techniques are few and far between.  As such, I think that I might be able to shed some light on the path, at least the first few steps, and have committed myself to writing a chapbook on the subject by the end of the summer.

The plan is to publish the results of my experiments so that others may build upon them.  As I said on tumblr, I would like a few beta-readers who have more experience with conjuration than I have so that they can tell me how far off the mark I am, and a few beta-readers with no experience in conjuration to try to see if my UPG works for others.  I have one volunteer for the former and two for the latter, but would like one or two more of each.  (Hint.  Hint.)

Translating the Stele of Jeu

I began performing the Stele of Jeu as a part of my Esbat rites at the end of 2011.  Although I no longer perform the ritual quite so regularly, I still find it to be an exceptionally useful part of my practice.  Because of the difficulties that one of my friends is having right now, I believe that the ritual would benefit her a great deal.  Unfortunately, however, she is not of a mindset which will permit her to simply perform the ritual: it’s too alien.  So I have taken it upon myself to annotate and, where possible, rephrase the ritual for her benefit, and the benefit of other witches who find the peculiar language of Greek-translated-for-scholars to be incomprehensible bordering on intimidating.

In my magical fantasy world, this project will culminate in my writing a version of the Stele for witches of an eclectic Wiccan background what Crowley did for his own students and peers in writing Liber Samekh.  Unfortunately this has been hampered by my inability to locate any scholarship on the subject, forcing me to rely in unseemly fashion on my personal experiments and UPG, and on the research of Mr. Jack Faust.

The Crisis

The crisis these projects has engendered is twofold, but the components are embarrassingly straightforward.

Firstly, I am plagued by the question, “Who am I to pose as an expert of any kind?”  The fact of the matter is that I know how little I know.  For all that I’ve been practicing magic for upward of fifteen years, my neuroses and social circles have somewhat limited my avenues of research.  Attending college in Indiana has also been surprisingly limiting to my options for interlibrary loan.

The fact that I am explicitly positioning myself as a fellow Seeker, not an expert or teacher does not seem to assuage this fear at all.  The fact of the matter is that I want to be a community leader somewhere down the road, have said so before, and only a fool could fail to put two and two together: Yes, I am hoping that some day, when I have something more substantial to offer, people will remember that I had clever things to say before.

Secondly, somewhat in light of the above, I find myself asking the question, “Is this where I want to focus my efforts?”  I am just old enough, at 32, that I am beginning to really feel my own mortality.  There are so many things I want to study, so many experiments that I want to do, so many books that I want to write.  Every time I choose to focus on one of them, I am potentially closing off others simply by virtue of the limited time available to me.

Is planetary witchcraft the thing I want to focus on?  What about the visionary work?  What about the alchemy?  What about the elemental powers I have touched, or the Chaos Magic I’ve dabbled in, my experiments in art as magic?  And where does that leave time for my novels?  Or my formal, public scholarship?

And, oh, yes, that whole thing where I want to seek out my gods but am deathly terrified to do so.

So I find myself stalling.  Sure, I needed to take advantage of this long weekend to actually relax and get some things done around the house.  Yes, I need to work my job to pay my rent and save up in hopes of being able to study in Greece at the end of the coming school year.  Damn right I need to actually get caught up on my sleep.  But I don’t need to do any of these things to the exclusion of the Work.

ETA: Edited to provide link and correct the spelling of Mr. Leitch’s name.  My apologies, sir.

My Year of Ceremonial Study: The Home Stretch

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.

My “Year” of Ceremonial Study: The View From Month 11 of 12

It occurred to me this evening that the year I set aside to study the Western Ceremonial Tradition will come to an end in fewer than thirty days.  I wrote the first post on my experiments a year ago yesterday.

Holy fuck.

It’s been a wild ride.  What started as a vague (almost childish) intention to study “ceremonial magic” has wandered across Chaos Magick, the grimoire traditions, traditional astrology, the qabalah, the Golden Dawn, and quite a few things I don’t even know the proper names of.  I’ve experimented with the Qabalistic Cross and the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram.  I’ve conjured my Natal Genius, and am planning to conjure my Natal Demon, as well.  Although I have struggled with my maintaining my visionary practice, I’ve gone on visionary quests to the Temples of Malkuth and Yesod, striven and failed to reach Hod, and visited the Elemental Realms of Earth, Fire, and Water.  I have made Planetary talismans of Jupiter, Venus, the Moon, and Mercury.  I have discovered the Greek Magical Papyri and incorporated the Stele of Jeu into my Lunar devotions at both the Dark and Full moons.  I have discovered the magical value of the Orphic Hymns.  I As my studies progressed, they focused increasingly on Hermeticism and astrological magic, with a bit of grimoire magic on the side.

Shit has been intense.  The rituals have been elaborate, effective, and exhausting.  Although I’ve been fighting it, I’ve been falling into the trap of armchair magicianhood because, as much as I’ve enjoyed a lot of it, there are parts of my nature that I have to fight to do this sort of Work.  And because I’ve been having so much fun getting caught up in the theory that I’ve been loosing track of the practice.  Now, don’t get me wrong: I’m not done with the Western Ceremonial Tradition by any stretch of the imagination.  But I think that, when my year is up, I’m going to switch streams.

This coming year is going to be dedicated to Chaos Magick. Stephen Mace and AO Spare. Phil Hine and Peter Carrol. Gordon White and Jason Miller. And probably lots of authors and bloggers that I haven’t even heard of yet. Hopefully some of them ladies.

Lots of things have been pointing me toward Chaos Magick over the last year, anyway.  I mean: y’all have noticed that Gordon White is just too damn cool to ignore, right?  There’s been this whole post-Chaos thing that Jason Miller’s been talking about, though I think Gordon and Skyllaros have the right of that in a lot of ways.  And, even if Chaos Magic really isn’t what he seems to be doing anymore, I’ve picked up a serious torch for Phil Hine.  So … I’ll come back to Agrippa, the Picatrix, and the Corpus Hermeticum sooner rather than later.  Hell, I’m probably going to keep working on planetary talismans and my illustrations of the Picatrix images of the planets even as I change trajectories, because they’re pretty and they make me happy.

Any recommendations?

 

Ceremonial Studies: Refining My Intent

When I set myself to the study of the Western Ceremonial tradition it was largely an intellectual exercise.  Yes, I expected to be a more competent and powerful witch/magician by the end of it, but I’d already learned the rudiments of sigils from Chaos magic (which I had largely understood as a subset of the ceremonial tradition, though I now know better) and I didn’t imagine that there would be much that would actually stick with me after the experiments were done.  After five months of study, I have come to understand just how little of what I thought I knew about the ceremonial tradition has any basis in reality.  Conversely, I have found that my chief concern was fairly well founded: I am fundamentally incompatible with some of the powers it deals with, though not in the ways I had imagined.  I have also come to recognize what the ceremonial tradition has to offer me personally: access to planetary Powers.

Various manuals of witchcraft that I have read in the course of my life have come with huge tables of plants, rocks, scents, colors, and their planetary correspondences.  But the rationale of those correspondences has never really been explained, nor why the attributions and uses of those correspondences varies so radically from the mythologies and portfolios of the divinities for which the planets have been named.  My explorations of ceremonial magic have helped me to understand (for example) why it is that Mars, the planet, has so little to do with Mars, the Roman god of war and the citizen-soldier.

More interestingly, particularly from my perspective as a visionary/shamanic witch looking to delve into that most forbidden of arts known as the evocation of spirits, I have learned of the multitudinous hosts and legions of spirits who make up those planetary Powers.  Even if, having acquired some skill at conjuration, I decide that it’s not for me, the names and sigils—phone numbers, as Frater Acher describes them (and I need that book)—will still be useful in seeking out contacts by other means.

Despite my best intentions, I am still having difficulty translating my theoretical studies into actual praxis.  This is partly a matter of trying to convert certain patterns into ones I understand, partly a matter of struggling to overcome inertia after having fallen off the horse (so to speak) of daily practice.

I want to begin seeking that thing known as “Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel” (or, you know, something along those lines, since I don’t quite buy the “guardian angel” part), but I have not yet settled on a particular ritual to that end.  The Stele of Jeu?  The Bornless Rite?  Liber Samekh?  (Sure, they’re all variations on the same tune, but I still need to choose one.)  Or some other ritual I haven’t found yet, aimed at the same goal?  Right now I’m leaning heavily toward the Stele of Jeu.  Very heavily.

When I resume pursing the planetary forces themselves, do I continue with the quasi-Golden Dawn route of Penczak’s High Temple?  Do I buy RO’s Gate Rites (I’ve been tempted for a while)?  Do I go whole-hog and dig into Abremelin?  Frustratingly, a lot of these questions would be a lot easier if I were Christian, or at very least if I weren’t energetically incompatible with the Archangels.  I really need to get my hands on a copy of the PGM—both translated and not.

I’ll say this much, though: by the time I’m done, there will be a neo-Pagan grimoire for sale somewhere.  I can’t be the only one struggling with some of these issues.  And maybe, as I continue, I’ll find that someone else has already done this.  Maybe I can use their work, maybe I can build on it, and maybe I’ll blow them out of the water.  There’s only one way to find out.

A research paper is no stronger than its thesis.  Until now, I had been doing no more and no less than preliminary exploration.  Now I have more specific aims—my theses, to continue the metaphor:  to get in touch with the Planetary forces, Powers, “elementals” (for lack of a better word) and spirits; to craft rites which fit within a neo-Pagan conceptual framework; and to make those experiments available to the public.