Showing all posts tagged magic

In scholarship, witchcraft

Working Sorcery of Solomon: Opening Gambits

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

At the beginning of May, I acquired Sara Mastros’ book Sorcery of Solomon: A Guide to the 44 Planetary Pentacles of the Magician King. Shortly thereafter, I signed up for the “companion” course (scare quotes because the book grew out of the course, not the other way around, and contains a great deal of information that couldn’t be fit into the book) and began accumulating the materials for the work.

The book and the course are not, in fact, the same: the Venn diagram of the information and techniques they contain is near circular, but not quite. Broadly speaking, the class just has more: more background, more details, more exemplars, plus (obviously) direct student-teacher interaction and all the benefits of working with a group. But, because there is only one of me and I am not quite crazy enough to double up all the work (some of which literally can’t be done twice and the rest of which would result in two books of pentacles, which … might be of use as a long-term thing, but which would be absurd to do I am working them simultaneously), I will treat them as if they were, in fact, one and the same. 

For reference, the format of the class goes like this: Mastros hosts monthly online meetings where she goes over each of the lessons. The first lesson is history and context and making contact with the spirit of Solomon. The second builds on the first and culminates in the construction of your own personal book of pentacles, from which you will make and empower the pentacles you that will actually use. Seven lessons follow, each focusing on the pentacles attributed a particular planet, starting with the Moon and going up the line to Saturn. Then the class culminates in two lessons synthesizing and building on what you’ve learned in the first nine. Then the cycle repeats. When you join the class, you’re given access to the recorded meetings and their slideshows/notes; the expectation is that you’ll work the back catalog at your own pace, attending classes and discussion groups as they come. Students are also strongly encouraged to find a study / accountability buddy in the class to help keep each other on track with the year-long course, and to keep each other honest and on the rails. The book is structured similarly, but not identically.

I joined in May of 2024, just in time to miss Lesson Nine – Saturn. The next cycle will start in September or (more likely) October, depending on how some things shake for Mastros here in meatspace.

Unlike my Hekataeon series, I don’t intend to break this series into dual posts, with one focusing on the material requirements and one on my experiences. This is because Mastros’ class and book are both better organized and more clearly written than the Hekataeon, and do not require that degree of third-party roadmapping. (Sorry Jack.)

Gathering Materials

I have had to take my time gathering all the materials. Between poverty, having my car out of commission for almost three weeks, and trying to source things locally and used as much as possible, it’s been almost six weeks to gather everything I need to wind up this work. I was actually a bit stressed about that for the first couple of weeks, afraid that I’d embarrass myself in front of the class because I wasn’t ready to jump into everything head first.

Finding a book was more challenge than it should have been: I had a particular style of sketchbook that I wanted but wasn’t able to find in my local art stores at a price that I was willing and able to pay. I was able to find something close enough, though, and that I think I’ll be pleased with. It’s not as large as Mastros’ exemplar – only 8.5×11, not 11×14 – but I think that will be large enough for everything that I’m likely to actually do  with this book. I was able to find a tasseled white scarf at a local thrift store, and I had some leftover blue cord from another project that turned out to be the  exactly correct size to bind the book.

As a professional artist, I have a variety of compasses, protractors, and straightedges to choose from. I was going to use this project as an excuse to buy a better compass, but have not yet found one to my taste in my budget. I have, for the moment, set a protractor and straight edge aside to live with the book. My quest for a swank compass will continue.

Finding an icon was both more and less complicated. As a small business owner (and, honestly, as someone who just hasn’t kept up with the times), I actually own a decent color printer. So, rather than purchasing an icon from an Etsy dealer or Orthodox supply store, I found an image, printed it, myself, and cannibalized one of the many thriftstore picture frames I picked up while thinking I was going to sell prints of my photography. I now keep the framed icon with my veiled and bound Book.

oil painting of king solomon in gold and blue robes and a gold and red headdress. He faces left and holds a narrow staff in his right hand.

I chose this particular image of Solomon because I thought he looked handsome and majestic in it, the magician king at the height of his power. I also deliberately chose an image in the public domain: https://www.nga.gov/collection/art-object-page.76152.html

Then I turned to sourcing materia for the oil and incense. Most of the ingredients are things I either had on hand or needed to restock, anyway, though some of it was a little pricey: the ceylon cinnamon and the cannabis, specifically. I was prepared to start with just frankincense instead of the full Solomonic incense, but things ended up coming together for me to blend and consecrate both oil and incense at the Full Moon / Summer Solstice combination.

The recipes for the oil and incense (which are available in the free-first-lesson-powerpoint [insert link here]) are given in parts rather than specific units. I can see the advantages of that, but also it’s given me a bit of an autistic fit. Ultimately, I chose to measure out the oil and associated materia by weight, and the incense by volume.

Regarding the oil, that may have been the wrong decision. Either I mis-measured something, or botched my math somewhere, because I my initial results came out as absolute used-coffee-grounds sludge. Getting a consistency that I liked ended up tripling the oil, and creating a supply that will probably last me a lifetime even if I’m extra generous with my friends.

The incense, however, turned out fantastic. It was my first time making incense lumps rather than just powder, but other than hating how the sticky honey felt on my hands (autism things), it came together almost exactly as planned. That “almost” is the fact that I chose the size of my “parts” poorly, and ended up with another lifetime supply when that wasn’t really called for.

For those planning to take the course themselves, my advise is this: when choosing your base measurement, think about what’s going to look like fully assembled.

Hacking the Current

I began, as I said, by reading the book. Once I had access to the archived class videos, I immediately binged them, as well. Inevitably, especially on my first pass, not every lesson got my undivided attention. But, each lesson begins with a prayer and a chant invoking Solomon as patron of the work. So, once I’d acquired the sketchbook, veil, and cord, and once I’d chosen and framed my Solomon icon, I made it my habit to sit down with my book and icon, light incense and a candle, and join the chant.

After a few rounds of that – one day, in particular, when I made it through three lessons in a day, each with its own new round of offerings – I could feel the energetic current of the class. I almost want to say that joining asynchronously, as I did, made it easier to feel the current at large, because I could pause the video, light my offerings, and then unpause and focus on the chanting.

Having found the current, I reached out and … joined it, adding my own voice to the chanting, and drawing power from the chanting down into my icon and book.

I did something similar, way back in the day (2014), when I was joining Seven Spheres in Seven Days experiments that preceded the Seven Spheres book.

Courting Solomon and the Mighty Dead

Regular readers may recall that I am deeply uncomfortable with ancestor work of any kind. I am only marginally less uncomfortable with saints and the Mighty Dead. But one of the reasons I took this class was to push my own boundaries, so here we are.

I began courting Solomon as a patron in the work as I described above, making offerings at the beginning of each (recorded) class. I also began including Solomon (and the nascent spirit of the Book, awaiting consecration and awakening) in my morning rituals, which revolve offering incense, a candle, and a cup of coffee to all the gods, powers, patrons, allies, friends, familiar spirits, and anyone else who lives on the altars of my house, in the pages of my sacred books, or comes when I call and aids me in my work.

That bore fruit more quickly than I anticipated. I made direct contact with the spirit of Solomon in the first week of June. He seemed a little confused at where he’d manifested, but also curious, which … same, bruh. In subsequent contact, in which I asked him if there were any particular stipulations that I needed to observe as I approached this work, I have been told: A) Not to contact him on the Sabbath except for Saturnian work; and, B) to approach the work with an open heart.

Obviously, I will continue to develop that relationship. Swift success has saved me from the need of making another infuriating attempt at dream incubation (Mastros’ recommended method for spirit communication when they don’t just show up for morning coffee), but not from some of the specific conversations needed before beginning the work.

I have not yet begun courting the Solomonic lineage of teachers, translators, and preservers. This isn’t a major part of the work, but it is something that Mastros recommends, at least at the beginning. I am, as is probably well know to all at this point, deeply uncomfortable with ancestor work, and for whatever reason approaching the lineage as a whole is psychologically more difficult for me than approaching Solomon, himself.

On the Treatment of Holy Names

The study and creation of Solomonic pentacles brings a new logistical problem to my practice: the disposal of pages on which Hebrew holy names have been written. My usual witchcraft, chaos magick, and neo-hellenistic practices have no particular taboos about written names; some white middle-class fuckery about preserving books, sure, but that’s not quite the same. My general practice is to burn failed experiments, expired materials, and even the remains of successful magic whose need has run its course.

The Hebrew religious, magical, and literary traditions from which the pentacles come, however, have some very strict rules about the creation, use, and destruction of such names – specifically (assuming I’m understanding correctly), any page on which such a name is written becomes a person, and must be mourned and buried accordingly. Synagogues, I have learned, have special repositories for such things. It’s not exactly my theology, but I can wrap my head around the need to see my Book and any consecrated and activated pentacles I have made consigned to such an end. I can come up with ways to make that work.

But I’m having a little more trouble trying to decide what to do with practice pages and dry runs. After reviewing that section in the course material (video Lesson Two: Planets and Craft), I believe that I will collect my practice pages carefully and burn them ceremonially at Samhain, and use that sacred ash to make sacred salt and/or ink. But I think I’m also going to talk to other folks in my class and see what compromises and solutions they’ve come up with.

Preparing For the Next Stage

With the above work done, I am ready to move on to the next phase: consecrating the book as a magical companion and familiar, and inscribing the Great Seal of Solomon from which all the subsequent seals will draw (at least a portion of) their power.

I’ve started assembling all the instructions from the book and videos into a coherent-to-me ritual. My study buddy and I have planned out the dates we intend to consecrate our books, and empower our Great Seals. Mostly, we’re waiting on the waxing moon.

I’m excited to take the next steps in this new (to me) magical adventure.

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 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 scholarship, Uncategorized, witchcraft

Lust of Results is Not Your Problem

Author Satyr MagosPosted on 2 Comments

I’ve been reading and talking magical technique a lot, lately, so I’ve been re-exposed to the notion of “lust for results” and it’s been driving me up the wall.

Let me lay it down like this: I was once a presumed-male 16 year old with even more lust in my heart than I possess today.  I know precisely how wanting something too much can screw it up for you, and I honestly believe that it’s this memory that Carrol and Spare and even less douchy chaotes are holding in their hearts when they speak of lust of results.  But here’s the thing: it’s not the wanting that’s the problem, it’s the being an inconsiderate and creepy fuckwit part that screws it up.  As a magical principle, the destructive power of lust of results just doesn’t hold water.

Historically and socially minded magicians talk about this a lot: there are three things that people turn to for magic before all others: money, sex, revenge.  As such, folk magic, the grimoires, and even the PGM are all thick with spells to bring you those things.  They are things that people want desperately, things that people can’t think rationally about.  They are results that people lust over.  And, quite frankly, if they were things that magic couldn’t bring people just because they wanted them too badly, books of magic would be a lot thinner, and the pockets of magicians and sorcerers across time would be a lot dustier.  More to the point, the desires for money, sex, and revenge, are the things that get people into magic in the first place, and if wanting them bad enough to enchant for them were a guaranteed failure, then no one would keep practicing magic long enough to pursue more enlightened goals.

Put another way: blaming magical failure on “lust of results” is a fucking cop-out.  Although I can think of a couple notable exceptions, most of us aren’t calling upon the Gods Above and Below to protect and grow our existing wealth.

You don’t call upon the forces of the cosmos to bring you things you can get just by walking out your door.  By the time you’re enchanting for money, you’ve probably been stuck in your shit job (or unemployed) for a while, and you’ve already probably put out a hundred or so resumes and applications.  By the time you’re enchanting for sex and love, you’ve probably got a few failed relationships under your belt and some serious emotional baggage on your back.  By the time you’re enchanting for revenge, you’re probably up against forces that you cannot face on an even field of battle.

That is to say, for the most part you don’t enchant unless you’re lusting for results.  Also, take some time to talk to some witches: we know what great spell-fuel lust and fear and hate can be.  Thus, we must look for another, more meaningful explanation for spell failure.

Generally speaking, modern Chaos Magick operates under the assumption of a probabilistic universe.  (I single out Chaos Magick, here, because Chaotes are the ones having interesting conversations about how magic works behind the curtain, and because Peter Carrol and Gordon White and Andrieh Vitimus are the people I’ve seen talking about this in print).  So, to reframe the debate in those terms, it turns out that most of us don’t start enchanting for results until the odds are already stacked against us.  Again: we lust for results when our magical goal is objectively more difficult to achieve.

From this probabilistic perspective, then, the “lust for results” argument is completely non-sequiter.  Lusting for results is only a problem if causes you to act against your own interests.

Why then, can a skilled magician, witch, or sorcerer find themselves in a position where they can happily enchant their friends and clients into new carreers but cannot do so for themselves?  Frankly, I would turn to non-magical explanations, first.  Stress and trauma reduce cognitive function and creative capacity: it’s harder to come up with good magical solutions to your own problems.  Moreover, speaking now only of American mages, thanks to the poison of prosperity theology in the cultural waters, we may well blame ourselves for our circumstances, further reducing our ability to see solutions to our problems.

If we must find a magical explanation for the failure of a skilled magician to adequately alter the probabilities of their situation, I propose a different metaphor: leverage and angles.  It is easier to do prosperity magic (or many kinds of magic, for that matter) for another than for ourselves because we do not have the best angle of attack on our own problems.  Although I cannot explain why this may be, based on my own observations I believe that this is particularly true of sympathetic magics.

In summary, I believe that “lust for results” is rarely if ever a satisfactory magical explanation for failure to manifest one’s desire.  I believe that it has survived so long by playing into the worst parts of where mainstream and magical cultures overlap – victim blaming, “u mad bro?”, caring isn’t cool – and by virtue of its pedigree.  I propose that any time we are tempted to use “lust for results” as an explanation for a failed enchantment, we reassess the actual probability of success on the one hand, and the material action nesscessary (vs. taken) to back up the enchantment on the other.

In Uncategorized, witchcraft

Moments in Time

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

When I first began seriously studying ceremonial magic in August of 2011, it was with a lifetime of energywork and witchcraft already under my belt.  I grew up surrounded by reports of astral time-travellers, and rituals aimed at undoing the injustices of past and future… at least in theory.  Books on witchcraft were always talking about advantageous days and moon phases, but everyone I knew had successfully manifested most of what they wanted with no regard to those things  (Friday seemed so far away in my late teens…).  So when I created my first electional talisman, the notion of using that moment again, some time in the future, had already occured to me.

Last night I finally put that theory to the test.

Aradia and I constructed an altar explicitly for the spell in the livingroom, frankincense burning in a brazer at the top beside the paper Jupiter talisman I made at that first election.  We prepared the three-part maeteria: the candle to be annointed, the paper talisman for our client’s altar, and the bottle of Scotch whiskey for the client to drink in the company of Jupiter.  We banished and cast our elemental circle and called to the powers of Jupiter by means of the Orphic hymn and libations and fumigation.

Then I called upon the spirit of the talisman to open up a window in time to the moment of its creation.  Light shined through the talisman and into our circle, and Aradia and I wound that energy up using memory-evocation techniques from Andrieh Vitimus’ Hands On Chaos Magic: revelling in the sensory details of the day upon which I first called the spirits of Jupiter to aid me in my collegiate duel with Authority.  We drank our toast to Jupiter, and while Aradia dressed the candle and the bottle, I channelled sigils to augment those we had created by the Carol/Spare method.  Then, together, Aradia and I performed the Picatrix invocation by which I had first blessed the talisman, the final recreation of that first election, and poured all the power we had raised into the triparte maeteria.

We closed the ritual with an offering to the spirit of the talisman, which had performed so far above and beyond its original purpose, and a final repetition of the Orphic hymn to Jupiter before releasing the spirits and the elements.

The spell, as I mentioned above, was for someone else, so I cannot speak more to the purpose until it has manifested, but I believe that we have applied as large and well-placed a lever to the situation as could be managed with our combined skill-set.  The candle will burn on our altar and the other elements will be delivered to the client today.  Even now, the morning after and no longer entranced, I can feel the magic reaching out into the future.

Further testing is, of course, required, but these preliminary results are amazingly positive.  Time travel magick appears to work in conjunction with electional astrology.  The next tests will be achieving similar results with my Venusian and Solar electional talismans, and then with an election I have no direct connection to — perhaps one of the Martial elections from this last year.  Then maybe evoking multiple points in time toward the same end.  Go big or go home, right?

In Uncategorized, witchcraft

Ritual Timing and the Risk of Preemptive Defeat

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

An act of magic does not begin only upon the release of the cone of power, the empowerment of the sigil, the charging of the talisman or spirit-aid.  An act of magic does not begin with the casting of the circle.  It does not even begin with the purifying bath before the ritual begins.  An act of magic begins the moment you set your will to an end, and echoes, still, after you achieve your result.

This is a thing that, I think, we all know, but which we all forget.

This is why, if you plan your rituals thoroughly or even just a few days in advance, you begin to see results before you have charged your sigils or talismans, or even finished arranging your correspondences.  I find that this is particularly common with multi-stage rituals, or when you’re doing magic for other people: frequently, Aradia’s mother will ask her to enchant for something, and then receive it while the offering candles are still burning.

Sometimes, you don’t even need to follow through with the ritual.  I think this is what a lot of people are talking about when they say they “manifested” something, but then get dodgy when you ask about their technique.  This is, interestingly, one the phenomena I have seen scare people away from magic in their earliest experiments.  (When my sister gave me back the magic books I had lent and bought her, she told me with wide-eyed terror about how, when she wanted things, “they just happened!”)

Conversely, when you are attempting something particularly difficult – an exorcism was the example that came up Gordon’s recent podcast interview with Jenny McCarthy – you can begin to encounter resistance as soon as you declare your intent.  Personally, I find this phenomenon most pervasive with my social justice magic: the apathy and depression which beset me when I begin to contemplate how best to undermine the structures of Archonic power; the mind-numbing blank, so much worse than normal writers block, which I struggle against when I attempt to work on my hypersigil novels; the reflexive planning-stage push-back I get from people who were down for the cause until the moment I announced I would actually take action.

I know a great number of magical people who rely too heavily on the first two of these three phenomena.  They are accustomed to the path opening for them effortlessly.  They mistake effective magic for destiny and, as a result, take every obstacle they do encounter as a cosmic DO NOT ENTER sign.  These are the same people who spend their lives wondering, “what am I supposed to do?” and flinch at the question, “what do I want?”

Linear time and causality are the meat and bread of historians, but they are illusions of mortal consciousness.  We are witches and sorcerers and magicians and priest/esses.  We are subject to illness and doomed to die, but in all other regards we disdain the limits of mortality.  The past pushes.  The future pulls.  Things outside of time – ourselves included – stir the pot.

Sometimes, of course, we do encounter DO NOT ENTER signs.  And sometimes we should even heed them.

But we are witches.  We are sorcerers.  We are wizards.  We are priests and priestesses and healers and mystics.  We are crossers of the hedge, climbers of the World Tree, explorers of the astral realms.  We are dabblers in forces forbidden to mortals.  We are possessors of knowledge others fear to face.

If we have any ambition at all, the obstacles we face become challenges which must be surmounted or circumnavigated.  We must set banquet tables for strange gods, even if we must then strangle them in their sleep.  We must slay or subdue or even seduce the dragons.

When you set out on a quest, the resistance you face is pro often of that you are going in the right direction.  Take solace in the stretches of easy, open road, and rest when you can.  And don’t take every challenge personally.  But remember that some of the obstacles arose in opposition to your intention; crush them and use the rubble as stepping stones.

And when you see a DO NOT ENTER sign on a side path, consider that it might be a challenge to be accepted.

In hedonism, witchcraft

Gandalf Style?

Author Satyr MagosPosted on
Gandalf Style?

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Dramatic lighting is my friend.

Last week’s Sexy Pagan Friday offering is as good a place as ever to start off a little rambling about what has probably been my most significant magical practice since returning to KCMO.

Most of my effort, magical and otherwise, has been devoted toward settling in: to establishing my space, and to being in the right place at the right time.  Notice all the green in that photo: my hat, my scarf, my pocket handkerchief, the shirt you really can’t see because I got super dramatic with the lighting, and even my fucking socks are green.  Zip back through my last few spf posts, and you’ll find a shit ton of green in them, too.

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Saturdays I dress in black. The purple tie is usually for Mondays, but I was just feeling extra fabulous last week.

Taking a cue from Aradia, who did this diligently before she quit her office job back in June, I’ve been incorporating planetary colors into my clothing as much as possible.  (Wednesday is a fucking challenge: I look absurd in orange, which basically leaves me shit out of luck.)  It’s a simple, mindful thing, rather than an act of overt magic, but it’s something.  (Mondays are my favorite because purple.)

This also goes back to something I’ve touched on before: crafting a new image for myself as I become too old–and too committed to “professional” life–to let my freak flag fly full time.  Since then I’ve learned that I receive very different from both the mallgoers who patronize my jewelry store and the coworkers who’ve known me for six fucking years now when I wear a tie and nice shoes.  Simply put, they take me more seriously.   (This, of course, should come as a surprise to no one.)

And, I will say, it sure helps that men’s fashion has gone in some pretty awesome directions since I made this decision.  Vests are seriously back in style.  Colors and patterns are vibrant and fun.  And pocket squares!

It’s difficult to gauge the efficacy of general prosperity magic–yeah, I’m doing pretty alright, but I’m also busting my ass–but judging by the ways in which I do seem, increasingly, to be in the right place at the right time, I believe that I can call the experiment, at worst, a moderate success.  The things I want to buy are on sale and in my size, I sit down at the right table to meet close friends of the hosts of open events, people respond to my messages on OKC, the art store has a shipment of the strange craft supplies I’m after in the deep discount corner of the basement.

I want to escalate this shit.  I bet I can make a talisman out of a tie or a pocket square.  Can you enchant a suit?  I’ll fucking find out!  (And you can’t tell me no one has never tried.  The question is, did they blog about it?)

John Fucking Constantine
Solid character. Not a role model.

But it kinda fucks with my head.  I mean, yes, these are magical successes, in a sense, and I am having a good time with it.  But it’s all so fucking butch.  I no longer fit my own image of a witch, or even a wizard or a sorcerer.  I mean, there’s some precedent for a magician playing the straight man… but being a magician did some fucked up shit to my head: Aradia was preparing to stage an intervention.

The realistic solution is probably to get better at code switching: taking off the work costumes as soon as I get home and putting on clothes that are more in line with my self-image; finding times and places where those clothes are more appropriate.

And keep doing magic.

Always do more magic.

 

In witchcraft

Taking Pain

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

Taking a break from all the Very Serious Posts which I should be writing, let’s have a little bit of story time.

Aradia and I are hosting some of my college friends right now, so we took them to our favorite bar in Kansas City, which also happens to be the best gay bar in town.  It was also our first trip there since I got back from the summer, and we were delighted to find our favorite bartender working.  He greeted us warmly, made our friends feel welcome, and made us the best drinks ever.  It was glorious.

But he was also holding his left arm at a funny angle, and it was clearly paining him.  I asked what was wrong, and he made a lot of inarticulate noises and hand gestures (which I originally translated as, “I was drunk at the time and I feel stupid”) before finally explaining that he had taken the pain from the lovely lesbian with the broken arm sitting next to us.

“Give it to me,” I said.  “I’m a professional.”  (Perhaps a slight exaggeration.)

“No,” he said.  “I took it.  It’s my responsibility.”

I respected that, so I let it go.  My friends were like, “what?” and I explained the principles to them.

“Oh,” my one friend says, very  much to my surprise..  “I did that once.”  He goes on to tell me about how this one time he took half of his friend’s migraine so that they could both study before a test.  “If I hadn’t done it myself,” he said, “I wouldn’t believe it was possible.”

The evening progresses, and I come back to the bar to order the next round of drinks.  My bartender is in so much pain that he actually shorts me my change.

“Why do we do this, again?” he asks me.

“Because we can,” I say.

As I work down on my third bourbon, though, the whole thing starts to weigh on me.  He’s nourishing the pain, taking it on as some sort of martyrdom, and it’s making it so he can’t work.  I’m reluctant to push the issue, but Aradia argues that it’s just as idiotically macho to let him suffer as it is for him to insist on suffering, and that if I won’t take the pain off of him, she’ll do it.

We all finish our drinks, and its time to go.  Aradia and one of my friends go to the ladies’ room, while my other friend and I go in search of the bartender to say goodbye and (again) offer to take the woman’s pain from him, and to tip him a little more before we leave.  He refuses both my offer and the tip, but then he gets all weird about it, twisting my friend’s arm rather than taking the tip, and patting me on the heart with the wounded arm.

While his hand is resting on my heart something goes off in the back of my brain, and I just breathe the pain into my lungs, and exhale it as fire into the air above us.

He looks at me in shock and says, “You took it.”

“I did.”

“But you know we have to give it back.”

“No, we don’t.”

Aradia shows up and we finish our goodbyes with a little more drama and groping than usual, then leave the bar.

My friend can no longer contain his enthusiasm: “You breathed it out as smoke.  I saw you take the pain.  I was watching really close because I wanted to see how you did it, and I saw you breathe it out as smoke!”

There is nothing like third party confirmation to make an evening perfect.

I feel a little bad about it, now.  He took the burden so seriously.  But the whole martyr angle just grated on me, and the way he touched me with the wounded hand … it just seemed to be the thing to do a the time.

In witchcraft

Project Null: Settling Into the Groove

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

projectnullI have just completed the third week of my Project Null experiment.  Some things have been settling down, others have been rearing their heads.

I’ve been escalating my daily banishing ritual a little bit, and doing better about my meditation, which has had a positive effect on the paranoia.  Perfecting my sleeping tea and being ruthless about bedtime (“ruthless”, because my homework is suffering) have helped with the insomnia and the nightmares.

My patience with various frustrations is at a distinct low point.  A class that I had hoped would be a fun challenge has, so far, turned out to be neither fun nor challenging, and another that should have been a coast-through is giving me trouble because the teacher seems to be suffering from part-timer syndrome.  These are legitimate frustrations.  My desire to set something on fire over them are just a little bit out of proportion.  With that said: I’ve suffered from rage issues for my whole life, so this is nothing new to me.  Stress makes me angry.  This is probably related to the Chaos experiment only insomuch as my meditation practice is making it impossible to deny or sublimate the rage.

Over the course of the week, I pushed a little further in Stephen Mace, restarted reading Hine’s Condensed Chaos, read Carol’s Liber KKK, and re-read Gordon’s Sigils Reboot.

Meditation

For most of the week, my meditation practice was the best it had ever been.  I was making five minutes or more at least once a day.  I wasn’t necessarily having great insights—really, just the Abrasax thing—but my mind was getting less and less unruly.  Then, Thursday, I fell off the horse for no reason.  No meditation Thursday or Friday.

This morning and yesterday, it’s distraction city all over again.  With the noted addition of a distinct buzz at the end of every meditation session, which is interesting and might be good or bad.

Magic

At the beginning of this experiment, I took a bit of a hiatus from active magical practice. I have begun re-incorporating magic into my practice, and the results have been decidedly mixed.  I dove back in to magic head-first Monday, with the Mercury Cazimi election just before dawn followed by the Mass of Chaos B that afternoon to fire off some sigils.  The first was a success; the second, not so much.

I made use of the Mercury election to recharge all my various Mercury talismans and to create a new language-learning talisman.  Although the raw power of that election made it very easy for me to feel the dissonance between my retrograde natal Mercury and the planetary power, the enchantments went well.  I have felt a distinct improvement in my ability to communicate with other humans (except over electronic media, which seems to be suffering an increased confusion, but there are a LOT of confounding factors making that correlation pretty blurry), and my comprehension of Greek and Latin does seem to be improving at a slightly swifter rate.

The Mass of Chaos B sigil launch was a qualified disaster.  I had three desires: to have a lost set of keys returned to me by Thursday, to have an Amazon package that has been waiting in the dock for (I though) no good reason shipped that day, and to find money on the ground.  The keys have still not been returned to me; Amazon has finally deigned to tell me that the reason my package didn’t ship is that The Sorcerer’s Secrets is currently out of stock; and I found a grand total of $0.06 on the ground this week.

So … I think I’m going to back up with my sigils.  Try launch techniques which are a little more traditional.  And hopefully aim my intentions a little better.

Meanwhile, the changes to my morning banishing rites have definitely left me feeling much more powerful.  I’ve yet to see that improved sense of power translate into actual results, though.

Dreaming

The tea I’ve been using to help regulate my sleep schedule has really fucked my dream journaling.  While on the one hand, my dreams have been vivid and interesting, on the other hand, I have been consistently woken up by the alarm which drives whatever I’ve been dreaming out of my head pretty much every time.

Have I mentioned before that dreamwork is not a native talent of mine?

Hopefully, the next batch of dream tea will cause me fewer problems: 2 tbs valerian; 1 tbs each white willow, chamomile; 2 tsp mugwort; 1 tsp spearmint.  I will be brewing does of 1 tbs in 2 cups filtered water.

In witchcraft

Dissonance and Resonance

Author Satyr MagosPosted on

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I have been practicing magic for just shy of sixteen years.  I’ve seen some whack-ass shit—some of it way back in the day, some of it a little more recently.  I even burned out the circuitry in my own brain on one occasion, a psychic injury from which I have only fully recovered in the last two years.  Fuck: I spent the first five or eight years of my magical practice with no other goal than to get some sort of hold on what currently passes for my sanity.  So when Peter Carroll tells me that Chaos Magick can lead to paranoia and obsession and outright madness, my first reaction is, “Been there.  Done that.”

Oops.  Stultus sum.

I have spent the last week struggling with depression and paranoia far out of line with my circumstances.  Also, a round of insomnia which has driven me to work on perfecting my sleeping tea and which has rendered me almost incapable of focusing on my studies.  Small noises in and outside my apartment have sent me into fits, searching for the source.  I have heard things scratching at the doors and walls.  In the moments between sleep and waking, I am haunted by delusions that someone or something is trying to break into the apartment.  My dreams have been haunted by fear, death, and betrayal.

Yes, I have things to be depressed about.  I have abandoned one lover, for a second time, in a far-away city; I have stayed in place as another moves on to bigger and better things.  That these things are inevitable, and the only path to each of us furthering our ambitions, is little consolation: I miss them.  Beyond that, finances are tight.  I didn’t make enough money over the summer, leaving with debt at the beginning and my costs have risen.  I’ve secured a TA position, which will provide me more hours than my post office position last year, but it’s still minimum-wage work-study.

There’s also stress.  I’m studying two dead languages at once, which is a kind of mind fuck.  I’m learning to weave, which is relatively straightforward on the one hand, but hugely time consuming.  And I’m taking an upper-level class outside my field: Gender Studies, as a point of fact, which while somewhat familiar territory as a queer feminist, is rightly known as a field  of particularly difficult-to-read theory.

But these very real factors are not sufficient to account for the degree of madness I’ve been struggling against, or the perfect (if short-lived) efficacy of banishing and/or meditation as a method of managing it.

All this, and I haven’t even performed my initiation in to the Chaos Current, yet, or the Mass of Chaos B for a second time?

Fuck.  Me.  Running.

I just hope that if I do go off the deep end, there’ll be someone left in my life to send in a rescue party.

Meditation

My meditation has been going fabulously.  I have missed only one day this week—Monday—and I have meditated in excess of 30 minutes on two occasions: almost exactly half an hour Tuesday night, before sleep; and a somewhat harder to quantify amount Friday afternoon at the loom, made up of uncounted three to eight minute intervals as I lost myself in the rhythm of the shuttle and reed.

Which is fucking good, because, as I said above, it’s been the front line of defense against the hordes of my internal demons.

Magic

I have been banishing and refining my Q-Cross every day, but done little other active magic this week.  What I have done is dwell upon Chaos Magick, its paradigms, and Project Null.  Having produced the first half-dozen glyphs of my Sacred Alphabet, I must now begin to conceive of how it will grow.  I have also been preparing for Monday morning’s Mercury Cazimi election.

And, of course, as is my custom, I spend Friday night cleaning and smudging my apartment.  I also performed a couple banishings..

The most concrete product of these musings and meditations can be seen in the image at the top: a syncretic chaosphere for Aradia, myself, and anyone else who chooses to join in with Project Null.  An image, a sigil if you will, to help unite and power our efforts. Our own little runoff stream of the Chaos current.

Dream

Although my dreams have been consistently violent, they have only been clear enough to record after waking about every other day.  I’m always vague in the mornings; it’s twice as bad when I actually wake up with the alarm, rather than before, and that is always the case when I have to dose myself in order to sleep.

For the curious: the tea I’ve been drinking has been valerian, mugwort, and white willow at at 2:1:1 ratio.  Last night I added 1/2 part mint and reduced the dose from 4 tsp to 3, which has produced the best results so far.  Mugwort tea gave me nightmares as a teen, too, but almost never since.