A Witch’s Bucket List: Shape-Shifting into Oblivion.
Squint and look at them close, my love, and you’ll see I’ve written the last to-do list you’ll ever need on these whimsical sculptures.
Browsing Tag:
Wild Woman
Spider Bellies and Black Hole Suns: Summer’s Shadow Lessons from the Wild Feminine Dark.
My suspension was a liminal space between life and death, and I saw the great mysteries reveal themselves in the Spider Woman’s busy work. I saw reflections of babes born and rock stars die in the black mirror of Her belly, and I saw the wild magick behind this so-perfect, so-flawed web in ...
Priestess of the Holy Obscene, I Applaud You.
I’ve got some tales to tell that are too good to keep secret; let’s write of our debauchery in a new scripture where the verses speak of hard-nippled freedom and hedonistic revelry. Our parables will be recited by snickering, paper-skinned grandmothers after the little ones are in bed, and our ...
Don’t Dare Come Closer: 10 Unbreachable Boundaries of the Wild Woman.
I built this walled garden to be my sanctuary from the likes of you, and, if my boundaries threaten you so much, you best be on your way.
This Is Me, with Over-Limp Fairy Wings: Beltane Verses for the Holy Heathen.
This is me, in all my bare-breasted and stretch-marked glory. My wine-soaked clothes have been shed, and this is the rawest version of my body I’ve ever known. May my soul’s new shape be forged in the milk-white beams at moonset, and may this birth-by-lunar-fire be a short journey from shame to ...
She Is Risen, Just as She Said.
She is a living insult to injustice, and She is risen, just as She said. Come, see the place where She lay; it is beneath every burning star of every age.
Shattering the Hall of Mirrors: Your Liberation Ritual.
I crush my eyes closed, refusing to see any more, wondering why I had been born at all if these reflections show even a shred of truth. Surely, I should remain here in this Hall of Mirrors until I die thirsty and heartbroken. Surely, I have broken my soul-contract and will never gift the world ...
The Foam-Born Woman: Solace for She Who Crawled from the Sea Fully-Grown.
She is the foam-born woman, and she is a tidal force to be reckoned with. She is wind and rain, and she was raised without the benefit of innocence. She is a self-protective dead stare, and she will not be asked to smile or giggle in the name of propriety and manners. She does not think herself ...
Defiance of the Tattooed Crone: a Witch’s Justification for a Life Well-Lived.
I suppose this sinful Witch will have much to answer for, but if I am to be tossed down to the devil’s house, I would like to get on with it.
Storm of 1000 Nights: Nightmares and Divination from a Rose-Crowned Prophetess.
She shows me a worldwide storm, and she names women the ambassadors of holy disruption. She shows me tribes of righteous feminine agents wearing bloody flower crowns and showing their aching parts to each other.