So this one that I’ve been sitting on for a while, I’ve had a busy last few months and haven’t done nearly as much writing as I should. Sorry folks!
This one got shelved for a while for various reasons including stupid ones like “What would the cute boy think?” and “I don’t feel like dealing with ignorant blog comments right now” … but you know what? Whatever, fuck. People can accept me or piss off. Then I saw a fellow blogger whom I respect catching hell for posting things along these lines and I felt the need to stand in solidarity.
If you don’t know about my casting collection, you might want to read about it a bit first.
Also, squeamish idiots should not be reading this. If you are easily offended, don’t like pain or bodily fluids, or don’t want to picture me messy and naked, go fuck off now.
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Back at harvest time I brought a bottle of English bitter (along with a few other things) to a small potluck feast of the Pagan variety (I am Pagan for the potlucks). I wound up giving that bottle as an offering and pocketed the bottle cap. When I looked at it later I saw that it has a crow (or a raven) with a key in a doorway on it.
This was on a weekend that I spent with some wonderful ladies roughing it *wink* in a run-down cabin. It was a bottle I had brought as an offering and it wasn’t cheap beer. I put the bottle cap in the bag of bits. Offerings, sacrifice, acts/terms of service, the actual work.
Then the little mortar and pestle disappeared from the bag. It was accounted for while I was putting the set away and the next time I opened to bag it was gone. I’m 99.99% sure of this. I’m not crazy, really. I was sad because this was a newer piece, one that I picked out of some of my favourite charms. But it was a piece that I picked out of a bunch of stuff that I already had, rather than a piece that found me or that I really searched for.
While unpacking a box of kitchen items and knick knacks I came across a small, red, glass marble. The second I pulled it out of the box and saw it I thought of a brilliant and perfect sphere of blood. This thought came with a kind of physical reaction (somewhat like shivers down the spine but not quite) that I’ve learned to pay attention to.
The marble comes from one a little fairy-witch figurine, it’s supposed to be her blood-red crystal ball, or some such. Or possibly the diminutive little witch-fairy collects drops of blood, like a sugar plum fairy gone mad? It has wound up replacing the mortar and pestle charm for symbolizing health and healing … and now also blood apparently.
To keep the marble from rolling away the way marbles do, I dripped some beeswax from a candle on one side. It’s pale and looks like, well it adds to the gore factor. Makes me think of a scab that been partially washed away or white blood cells or something.
So, as a commenter pointed out on another post, the new healing piece is more about the actual body itself, rather than treatment. We will see how that goes.
The black stone with the silver stripe was lost to tall grass during Lughnasadh. I intended to replace it with a small silver nugget bead. Mmmmmm, real silver. When I opened the packaging it came in, a piece was dropped (I’m clumsy) and that one went into the set. Gifts, treasure, the silver lining, and the things we wish/hope for.
I got a few in the order and one came out wonky. It had to go in, my roommate Grey called it: unexpected gifts/treasures, things you didn’t know you needed/wanted, the diamond in the rough, that sort of thing.
The Silver Twins. Being a Gemini, I am tickled pink.
So the old pieces found their way out and the new pieces found their way in. I still continued to work with the set as this happened. It’s a natural process. Pieces come and go, often around the same time. Once we were closing in on the solstice season, I decided it was time for a break. Starting after Samhain I gradually worked the set less and less, whilst gradually increasing goodies. It’s hard to call the gifts/goodies I give the set offerings. It’s more like giving your pet hedgehog an extra meal worm. That probably sounds terrible.
For the last little bit, it enjoyed being spread out in the craft room, on the old metal TV tray, a nice silk scarf for an “altar cloth”. The collection got incense and mulled wine and sugar cookies and all kind of goodies. Including some diviner’s smoke, which I do intent to write a good review of.
As the solstice came and the moon waned, it was time to get the set back in action. I decided that I wasn’t going to be prissy about it. I waited until my moontime had started.
So, in the depth of the winter night time, I set to work. My roommate Grey cuddled up and sleeping in her room down the hall. Crash-the-dog choose not to join me, but laid out in the hallway instead.
I lit candles and got the incense coal burning. A towel was laid out on the floor for me to sit on, the collection in its bag, the casting cloth beside it. Also there was a bowl of warm water with sea salt and a soft cloth beside it. I placed offerings upon my shrines and called to my spirits to bear witness. I stripped down and sat naked upon the dark brown towel.
With great care I filled by little stone pipe with diviner’s smoke, which I had purchased from Sarah’s botanica with money earned by doing a reading with my collection. (When I told my roommate Grey that I had ordered some diviner’s smoke from Stang and Cauldron she gleefully accused me of trying to reverse engineer Sarah’s secret sauce, which isn’t entirely true.) I slowly filled my lungs and gave up smoke and energy to my spirits, each in turn.
I blessed the casting cloth with smoke, incense and a nice mulled wine. Then I gave smoke to the collection itself, filling my lungs and then gently blowing smoke into the bag. I watched the smoke rise up out of the collection’s bag and knocked on the floor three times.
Quietly and with great care, I stated my purpose and then knelt upon the towel. From the bag I pulled out, at random, the first piece. I greeted it with a kiss and spoke its story. How I found it, how it came to be in the set, what lessons I had learned from it. What it speaks of, what its meaning is when I perform readings or use it for spellwork. Gently I reached into my body and then marked the piece with my womb’s blood. I named the piece and held it, and celebrated its renewal. I feed it some of the stout to bring it strength. Then using the sea water and the soft cloth, I bathed it. Like the new born puppies and other animals whom I have helped bring into this world. Then I laid it out on the casting cloth.
I did this with each piece in turn.
I was about a third of the way through when I realized what I was doing. I might have said something along the lines of “Aw, shit”
That’s when the cramps hit like a taloned fist. I nearly doubled over from the pain. My moons blood no longer a sluggish brown smear, but suddenly coming in great dark clots.
Hullo, my name is Juniper and I am an idiot who doesn’t always fully think things through to their final conclusion, even when they are glaringly obvious.
With a resigned sigh, I continued to give (re)birth to a small collection of random objects and the spirit/thought-form/instrument that resides within. Which includes such glorious and impressive pieces as a bottle cap and three matches tied together with string.
In front of silent and unseen witnesses.
By candlelight.
My dog lying out in the hallway, her nose at the crack between door and floor.
Sorry for the visuals, guys. If it makes it any easier, I look good naked.
Sometimes, I find myself thinking just how crazy this all is. How absolutely nuts practising witchcraft can be. How ridiculous I must seem to outsiders. When this feeling comes to me, all I can do is shrug, grin like a lunatic, and carry on.
It felt like it took forever. There are more than 30 pieces in the set and each took at least ten minutes to be cared for properly. No rushing allowed. No shortcuts. Sweat poured down my shaking and aching body as I laboured over a bizarre collection of random objects that act as a universal translator between myself and my spirit (among other things).
Finally it was done. The room was filled with smoke and stench and the thick, weighty feel of the unseen. I thanked the spirits and put away my implements, leaving the set out on the cloth to soak up some moonlight and sunrise. A long shower later and I crawled into bed shortly before the sun rose.
The next morning, I lifted my little “babies” and tucked them back into their bag.
Stay tuned for updates of how damned well the set has been working for me since Yule. There is one reading posted on the blog from since then, if you are interested.
