Write Your Witchcraft: #22-28

tumblr_pkd5e6equ01v2z03bo1_1280
Art by vetyr

Prompts from Write Your Witchcraft:

What kind of witch do I feel I am?

This is a tricky one for me to answer, because I’m interested in so much that I can’t pick any specific label to cover it all. I suppose that would make me fall into the category of “eclectic” witchery, because currently, my craft doesn’t lean heavily in one direction or another. I’m drawn mostly to dream work, divination, cosmic/lunar witchcraft, and art, but there are other things I’m interested in or incorporate, as well: elements, deities, crystals, weather, seasons, and everyday activities such as cleaning, cooking, etc.

I think, though, that I could call myself a dream witch, not only because of my interest in dreams and dream work, but because a significant part of my craft revolves around manifestation and taking the steps to fulfilling dreams and goals.

Which texts/quotes best describe my current path?

I don’t have any texts at present. This, however, has been my mantra lately:

Moonlight as my aura,

Sunlight as my crown.

Starlight as my soul,

And Earth as my ground.

I adapted this from an affirmation going around on Tumblr: “Moonlight as my aura, starlight as my soul, sunlight as my friend.” For someone as prone to wandering off into daydreams and fantasies as I am, this is a gentle reminder to me that, even though I may resonate most strongly with the heavenly bodies above, and carry that stardust in my bones, I am still alive and present on Earth. Earth has to be my focus, my ground, but I can still carry the cosmos with me as I go about this lifetime.

Do I like research and gathering info, or do I like things handed to me?

I definitely like research, investigation, and experimentation. That, to me, is part of what makes witchcraft an engaging path of evolution. I feel you can grow yourself better when you go out of your way to gather information.

Which things about witchcraft worry or scare me?

The only thing that I’m often concerned about are spirits, really — particularly, the spirits of the deceased. Having never felt the urge to work with them, or communicate with them, I occasionally worry that they might pop up one day uninvited. It’s only a concern because working with a lingering spirit of the deceased is a lot different from working with a benevolent being of the light, like a spirit guide or deity.

However, this is an extremely minor concern because I haven’t ever personally experienced any spirit phenomenon involving the deceased (that I was aware of), and I consider myself fairly practiced with shielding and clearing my home. I haven’t had any issues and I don’t expect I will.

I can’t exactly pinpoint why I hold such low interest in spirits of the deceased. I’m sure I’ve painted at least one or two for clients/sitters without knowing it, but it’s never been something I felt the urge or calling to work toward. And the spirit world must be able to sense the same, because spirits of the deceased don’t seem to consider me a beacon of any kind. If they’ve tried poking me, I remained completely oblivious.

As long as such spirits remain respectful of my space, this isn’t a concern at all. But it’s the only thing I can think of that gives me a sense of discomfort.

What is my favorite element?

This is a tough one, but I’d probably have to give the obvious Piscean answer: water. However, this is very closely followed by air (as a Gemini moon, I can’t say I’m surprised…) Lakes, streams, oceans, rain, snow… Water is such a relaxing and nourishing element for me. Thankfully, I live in the Pacific Northwest, where it rains for three-fourths of the year. I also like water’s associations with emotions, reflections, and inspiration (those creative showers, man).

As for air, I admire the energy behind it. It’s revitalizing and purifying in a way that water isn’t. Growing up, I was always awestruck by the power of the wind (I’m quite interested in tornadoes and hurricanes), and since I spent most of my growing years in the southeast U.S., I was no stranger to storms. Our summer evening storms were always a treat to watch (assuming they didn’t knock the power out, or something).

How do I see gender (roles) in witchcraft?

Gender hasn’t really been a big theme in my craft. I recognize the values of divine masculine and feminine and try my best to balance those values in both myself and my work. It’s an ongoing study, I suppose, but I think I’m most comfortable with allowing my craft to be fairly gender-neutral unless otherwise necessary.

Am I interested more in magic, or spirituality?

Probably spirituality more so than magic, and that’s mostly because I see magic more as a tool than a lifestyle. I don’t necessarily place more value on one over the other, but since my life goals are based on self-development and self-growth, I’d definitely say I’m more interested in spirituality than magic. Then again, I consider magic to be an aspect of spirituality. It’s a tool in the toolbox.

Write Your Witchcraft: #17-21

tumblr_ps8hez1jhb1v2z03bo1_1280
Art by vetyr

Prompts from Write Your Witchcraft:

Which aspects of witchcraft appeal to me most, which the least?

In general, my favorite aspects of witchcraft are those that build upon self-growth and development, and those that allow me to feel more connected with nature. Deity work is still something “new” for me, but I’m enjoying that immensely, as well as dream work, meditation, mindfulness, and divination.

As for what doesn’t appeal to me, I can say I’m not all that interested in anything pertaining to spirits who have passed on. I still respect these spirits, and this area of work, but it doesn’t seem to be something I’m meant to work with right now. Complicated or time-consuming witchcraft also doesn’t appeal to me.

What do I believe happens to us when we die?

Honestly, I haven’t really fleshed out a full impression of our post-life existence. Part of me feels as though we move on to whatever realm of existence matched our belief system in life. Another part of me feels that what comes next is too vast to be easily grasped by limited human senses. Maybe it’s both of these things, or neither. I can say with certainty that I believe there’s no end, but unless I’m smacked upside the head by certain experiences or feelings, I doubt I’ll ever reflect much on our lives after death because I honestly don’t think it’s simple enough to put into words.

How do I see mythological creatures?

In the decade I’ve been exploring spirituality and magick, I’ve only had one experience with a mythological creature — a dragon — and I honestly couldn’t say whether this was an actual dragon or an entity that resonated with draconic energy. I imagine these creatures exist on some level, perhaps in a realm of spirit that your average person has difficulty accessing, but since I don’t work with them (or feel the pull to work with them), my understanding of them is rather basic. I love the concept of them, though — especially dragons and mermaids. I just don’t see myself connecting with them in the way other witches do.

When do I feel most magical?

I tend to feel magical quite often, so it’s hard to determine when I feel the most magical. Usually it’s during simple moments of my day, when I’m walking to work with my chin up and my shoulders back, with the breeze on my skin and the crows calling above. When I’m sitting on the floor of my room at night with a candle flickering silently on my nightstand and the effervescent tingle of Morpheus’s presence creeping over my arm and scalp. When I shut my eyes and let ambient music carry my awareness to countless other worlds. When I sit before my computer giving shape to entities with a drawing tablet and pen. These things, and much more, make me feel magical.

How much is witchcraft woven into my daily life; is this too much, too little or just enough?

Most of my current witchcraft is woven into small moments of my day, because this, I feel, is what I can accommodate at present. And I like that. I think the witchy “ideal” is to spend hours in a sacred space, whether it’s an altar, a bedroom, a garden, or a kitchen, and work witchcraft until our world feels warm and energized and complete.

I, however, am a creative and restless being with big goals that require a lot of work, scheduling, and dedication. I honestly cannot see how or when I would incorporate more witchcraft into my life. I need to make money to survive, so I need my day job and my business. On top of that, I have other things I’d like to do with my day, including making progress with my goals (because as painful as it is, my ambitious self decided it would be smart to try and be a writer in this lifetime, among other things).

Something I’ve realized since dropping down to part time hours at my day job is that time really flies. I spend three days of my week at home, trying to work on writing or my business, and the hours slip out of my grasp.

Within a few years, I’ll be thirty. Thirty. Everything I told myself I’d do in my twenties hasn’t happened yet. I haven’t published books, or stuck to my intuitive art and readings long enough to really develop my skills. I haven’t read enough books or learned a new language. I haven’t developed technical drawing skills or gone on dozens of adventures to interesting places.

Where would more witchcraft fit if I wanted to work toward all these goals? That’s why what I have is just enough. For now, it’s just enough. My magic lies in the smaller moments, when I wash away the stress of a long day, or steep myself a cup of relaxation at night. Perhaps in the future, I can incorporate a little more, but what I have now is perfect.

Write Your Witchcraft: #12-16

tumblr_puuudcilkv1v2z03bo1_1280
Art by vetyr

Prompts from Write Your Witchcraft:

What are the basic morals and ethics I feel I should live by?

Simply put, I have no interest in harming others. I don’t know if I’ll ever reach a point where I feel I absolutely must harm someone in some way (and when I say “harm”, I mean take negative action against them, like cursing or hexing), but at the present moment, I’m more interested in uplifting others and working on my sense of compassion and acceptance.

What in nature am I drawn to; the ocean, animals, the trees, etc?

Space, the night sky, stars, the moon. Outer space just pulls at me in a way I can’t fully articulate. I feel a deep sense of longing when I gaze up at the night sky; I can spend hours just staring up at the moon. The size of the universe doesn’t scare me. It thrills me to my core.

Here on solid ground, however, I’m drawn to big, rugged mountains and evergreen forests, wild woods and curious rivers. The bigger the mountains, the better. I love cleansing rains and tranquil snows, crisp air and the smell of earth. Lakes, streams, and the ocean herself, although I prefer wilder, more rugged coastlines like those of Washington and Oregon.

Which (witchy) holidays, if any, would I like to celebrate and how?

Interestingly enough, I haven’t felt a strong desire to celebrate any witchy holidays. I think more than anything, I want to honor and celebrate the passing of seasons. I am perfectly content focusing on the four major changes of the year; I’ve never felt a desire to celebrate anything more than that.

In the future, when I have more freedom and privacy, I’d like to do more to honor the solstices and equinoxes. It’s such a significant shift of energy, and I’d like to align myself with that shift in energy by dedicating time or rituals to each season. I haven’t been good about that in the past, but it’s mostly because I felt limited by my living situation or lack of personal transportation. At the very least, I try to do something for each season, even if it’s just a tarot session or meditation.

How do I believe divination works?

I believe that the power of divination rests with my own intuition, regardless of the entity I’m working with. I work almost exclusively with tarot and oracle cards, and when I sit down to perform a session, I always call upon the entity associated with the deck I choose. I feel that intuition is a form of spiritual communication, so when I ask my questions of this entity, I believe they are speaking to me through my intuition to guide me to the proper card.

I haven’t spent enough time working with other divination methods to discern whether the same applies to those methods. I may have more information on that in the future.

Would I like to work with a group some of the time, all of the time or not at all?

I’ve thought about this often, and I think the answer is “not at all,” because I’m such a solitary person, such an extreme introvert, that anybody I worked with would have to match my energy almost perfectly, lest I become restless and agitated. This isn’t really by choice; it’s simply my brain and my nature. I can’t stand having “strangers” in my house (and by “strangers” I mean anyone who isn’t my immediate family) because it disrupts my mental energy and makes me feel tense and restless. My flow in all areas of my life is vastly improved when I’m alone, and I imagine the same would apply to working magick with others.

Even if I wasn’t in my home/my sanctuary, I don’t think I could fully unwind to properly perform magick with a group. Leaving the house and facing the public means I’m expending energy, and the longer I stay with others, the less energized I would feel. This may be different with an online community, however.

It’s a bit of an unfortunate reality, but it’s true to who I am.

Write Your Witchcraft: #8-11

tumblr_pjc2zw84s01v2z03bo1_1280
Art by vetyr

Prompts from Write Your Witchcraft:

How do I believe magic works?

At its core, I believe magic is the union between thought/intention, emotion, and universal/spiritual energy. It’s clearly not enough to simply want something; we have to put in the energy to receive it, body, mind, heart, and soul. That magic is magnified by emotion, the feeling of manifesting the magic, and the energy put into it. Our little rituals can hold so much power as a result. Energy for energy.

I  could go into a lot more detail with this belief, but I don’t think I need to. This is a simple enough explanation for me.

Simple or elaborate spells/rituals? Why?

Presently, simple spells are my favorite, and that’s mostly because I don’t have the time or resources to perform more elaborate spells. I work part time, 25-27 hours a week; I’m trying to start an intuitive art/reading business; I’m trying to write books; and between all that, I’m learning, blogging, researching, crafting, and indulging in self-care to ensure I don’t run myself ragged. Time really flies when you start juggling so much.

I honestly can’t figure out when I would ever have the time to perform spells more elaborate than clearing the energy in my room or programming my crystals. There would have to be sacrifices elsewhere in my life, and I don’t feel like that’s necessary at all. I don’t want to spend more than half an hour on my magic — not when I have so many things to accomplish in a day.

The other obstacles are resources and living space. I have no personal transportation and I live in a small apartment with a roomie and her two dogs. There is no space for big, elaborate spells. No room for storing dozens of witchy items. I can’t afford to accumulate these things when I live in a shoebox.

What are my views on cursing/hexing?

I have never been in a situation where I felt it was absolutely necessary to curse or hex someone. I’m basically of the belief that you attract what you put out, and that you’ll get what’s coming to you eventually if you’ve done something worthy of cursing/hexing. I try to approach other people with a back-burner sense of compassion. I may not like someone or their attitude, but more often than not, there’s a reason for someone’s behavior. That reason doesn’t excuse their behavior, but I try to remember that everyone is fighting their own battle, perhaps their own war, and quite honestly, I just prefer focusing my energy on the positive.

With that said, I don’t have anything against cursing or hexing, so long as it’s not abused. I just don’t ever see myself wasting energy on someone who treats me horribly.

Do I want to practice something similar to my ancestors?

I don’t know enough about my ancestors to know what they practiced. The last few generations of my family (on both sides) were Christian, atheist, or something in-between. I’m not sure what came before the Christianity. Heck, my mom’s family grew up believing they were almost entirely Native (as part of the Houma people in the south), when in reality, they were more Mediterranean than Native.

I am more than okay with practicing my own path, especially since I’m a bit of anomaly with my beliefs, anyway. Christianity is and was so prevalent on both sides of my family, and if they aren’t Christian, they don’t really believe in anything. Any concept pertaining to divination, spirits, witchcraft, and so on was labeled evil, demonic, or just plain silly.

I’ve always been a fan of working with what I’m drawn to, or what I resonate with.

Write Your Witchcraft: #3-7

tumblr_p7piafl9bg1v2z03bo1_1280
Art by vetyr

Prompts 3 through 7 from Write Your Witchcraft:

What in witchcraft makes me happy?

As someone who spent much of her young adulthood feeling lost, ashamed, and powerless, it was empowering to discover what witchcraft truly was: a way to regain my personal power and apply it to manifest good things in my life. That feeling of empowerment is at the core of why witchcraft makes me happy. I like the notion of using my own power to create a better life for myself. I love connecting with the deeper layers of myself and the universe, utilizing mindfulness, creativity, and intuition to improve my day-to-day living. Witchcraft has given me an appreciation for the smaller, quieter moments of my day — the little rituals in which I can weave my own magick.

Do I want to follow a path that has to do with a little nature, or a lot of nature?

While I can’t really enjoy it in my current situation, I’d love to eventually reach a point where I can incorporate more nature into my path and practice. I live in the Pacific Northwest, a region that is so beautiful and soulful, it’s almost a crime to not spend time outdoors. When I first moved here, I fell in love with the evergreen forests, the purifying rains, the Columbia River Gorge, Mount Hood and his kin, the crisp, cool breezes, the rugged coastline, and so much more. Money is tight and I lack personal transportation, so I don’t get to experience raw, wild nature as often as I would like. One day, I hope to live in a place that gives me the solitude and nature therapy I crave.

What areas of witchcraft would I like to learn more about?

There are so many, but I would like to delve more into dream magic, art magic, lucid dreaming, cosmic witchcraft, astrology, crystals, divination, intuitive development… Those are probably my main areas of focus, as this is what I embody as a witch. I’m a bit of a sponge when it comes to information, though: I like to absorb knowledge from other paths and practices.

Where do my witchy talents lie?

Intuition and divination are probably my top talents, along with artistic ability, which I like applying to witchcraft. My dream interpretation/recall abilities are steadily improving, most likely with the aid of Morpheus and my own intention. These skills are at the core of my witchy foundation, and I’m basically building it up from there.

What kind of deities, if any, do I want to honor?

Honoring deities is something fairly new to me, and I’m not entirely sure what the future holds in regard to honoring more. For now, I work with Morpheus, because his spheres of influence closely align with my interests (dreams in all varieties). I’ve been feeling a bit of interest toward a few others, like Apollo and Nyx, but I don’t feel the call or urge to work with them like I do with Morpheus. Not yet, anyway. I’m the sort of person who follows her gut with things like this.

I think one of the things that “worries” me a little about honoring/working with more than one or two deities is the lack of time in my day to properly devote to them. I have so many little habits and rituals and activities that I spread out over the course of the day: meals, work, writing, art, relaxation, reading, studying… And at the end of the day, right before bed, I devote 10-30 minutes to Morpheus and Spike, as part of a nightly ritual to realign my energies and prepare my mind and body for sleep. I would want to give the same amount of attention to any other deity I honor… but when would I do it?

I suppose I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it, but for now, I’m more than content working with Morpheus alone… as far as deities go.

Write Your Witchcraft: #2

tumblr_pcr3y08bv61v2z03bo1_1280
Art by vetyr

Question number 2 from Write Your Witchcraft:

How do I see the divine?

I grew up in a fairly neutral household with a Christian mother and an Agnostic/Atheist father and brother (I’m actually not sure what my dad and brother believe now, but I know they’re not spiritual or religious). While my mother wanted my brother and I to attend church, read the Bible, and so on, my dad disallowed her from influencing us, which I appreciated deeply when I came of age. He gave us the space we needed to form our own opinions about the nature of the universe.

The thing is, I tried to see what my mom saw in Christianity. The first time I actively tried, I was a pre-teen in fourth grade. That didn’t count for much, since I was only just beginning to form my adult identity through teenage experiences. But even as I grew older, I tried to connect — tried to find the spark that my mom so desperately wanted her little family to feel. My mom was born into Christianity and her faith never wavered. I often wonder what she would believe if she hadn’t been raised into it.

That’s beside the point, though. I tried to connect with Christianity and failed. The spark was never there. I felt nothing when I considered God — or, at least, the Christian interpretation of God. I found Christian art and architecture compelling (I still do), and some of the mythology is interesting, but God never resonated with me. It didn’t feel right.

Growing up with a Christian mother was equal parts fascinating, frustrating, and anxiety-inducing. She commented occasionally on how she wanted to prepare us for the end of all things, how she herself felt prepared, how she interpreted God through various life events (she told me that she felt a bike accident I had when I was a kid was God’s way of getting her attention), and so on. I even remember her complaining one day that nobody in our immediate family understood her because she was the only Christian. It didn’t matter that all her other relatives — her parents and siblings and aunts and uncles — shared her faith and worshiped together. She wanted at least one of us to believe, too.

I suppose I understand her pain, in retrospect, but I realize now that her pain came from a place of fear, and that realization served as part of my spiritual foundation. It did not resonate with me to include fear on my path: fear of the divine, fear of the afterlife, fear for the fate of my family’s souls. It did not resonate that the divine would punish its own creations for believing a certain way, or loving a certain way, or partaking in harmless activities.

My early understanding of the divine was that it was universal. I considered the divine to be an all-encompassing energy, present in all things. When I was a teenager, I didn’t quite believe in the existence of deities — or, at least, I never focused on them. I wanted to explore something outside of religion, outside of named pantheons and rules and restrictions and expectations. None of that felt right to me.

My understanding hasn’t changed much over the years, but I’ve had time to reflect on experiences I’ve had and research I’ve done. I still feel as though the divine is an all-encompassing energy, perhaps even “the universe experiencing itself,” but I also feel that entities and energies such as deities exist on some level, personifying or embodying certain aspects or elements or forces.

The funny thing is, despite coming to this conclusion, I never expected to gravitate to any deity in particular. I admired the concept of them, the sheer power they represented, but I assumed deity work or worship wasn’t my thing. And I was okay with that. I was prepared to forge ahead alone, working only with a close spirit or two, until I achieved my dreams, my goals, my ideal life.

That changed when Shiva popped into my life, and let me tell you: I was not expecting that. At all. I had a few interesting experiences with Shiva, but I wouldn’t call my work with him “worship”. I think he may have popped up because it was a time in my life that desperately needed change, and, well, he is known as the Destroyer. I came to appreciate change a lot more since then, but today, I don’t feel called to work with him. I respect him, still, but I think his lesson was temporary. I never spoke much about him because I was worried what people might say; he wasn’t part of my culture, after all, and it’s not often you hear of a Mediterranean mutt working with a Hindu deity.

All was quiet for a few years, and then came May of this year, when out of the blue, I had the urge to begin work with Morpheus. I’d always been fascinated by Greek mythology and its deities/figures, and the ancient culture more closely matches my blood (despite no one in my family even realizing they’re of Mediterranean blood until a few short years ago). This, I realized, would work. Out of all the other deities in known existence, I’ve always resonated with the Theoi the most. Morpheus, in particular, made complete sense for me as an artist, writer, and perpetual dreamer/daydreamer. He may not be one of the top dogs, but he exists, even if only as an embodiment of dreams and of the dreamscape.

The divine, I feel, is not “above” or “below” us — not in the sense we, as mortals, tend to believe. It is all around us, within us, all-encompassing, and serves us so that we may better reach our power. That is a suitable foundation for me.

Write Your Witchcraft: #1

tumblr_pj6lqszetz1v2z03bo1_1280
Art by vetyr

I recently stumbled upon this awesome writing prompt on Tumblr called “Write Your Witchcraft” that I thought would be an interesting series of reflections for myself. I haven’t really put a whole lot of thought behind my craft or practice beyond “why” and “how”, so I feel these questions will be a good way to honor my path. I might lump a few of the questions together depending on how long the answers are, but the first question deserves its own post, I think. Like an introduction.

What draws me to witchcraft?

Growing up, I was drawn to the concept of magic. My favorite stories, movies, and TV shows were those in which the characters possessed some sort of magical ability, or lived in a world where magic thrived. I was envious; I wanted to be just like those characters, wielding power that shaped the world in fantastical ways, living in a realm full of wonder and myth and legend. Most every kid’s dream, right? What we wouldn’t give to summon elements or influence objects or magic away all our problems.

As I grew older, those stories stuck with me. I became the person my parents more or less wanted me to be: quiet, amiable, polite, good student, driven, creative, motivated, responsible. At the back of my mind, however, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the world than what our limited senses perceive. Many of my teenage years were spent researching paranormal activity and psychic ability. I remember spending countless nights in my room trying various techniques that I could later show off, hoping beyond hope that maybe I had some cool power, some magic hidden away that I needed only to unlock.

Witchcraft wasn’t really one of my research topics at the time. I brushed it off as something exclusive to Wicca, and Wicca, to my teenage mind, was something “far away,” reserved only for a select number of people. I honestly didn’t explore witchcraft as something more than Wicca until a few years back, when I had exhausted my interest in spiritualist topics and found myself seeking more. Prior to that, I learned that I did possess some form of power — a small selection of gifts that allowed me to attune to something more profound than myself. That revelation was the foundation of my spiritual path.

I had power. I was power. And I could use that power to help myself, and others, and more than I could imagine… At least, that’s what it felt like.

It’s a thrilling thing, for an insecure teenager, to realize that you have worth and power. I wasn’t necessarily in a terrible place. Not at all. I wasn’t bullied by anyone other than my older brother, and his unkindness was that of a young man learning his worth and power — specifically, his power over me. If I made him unhappy, he made it known to me, and I felt powerless. My parents never really knew, and I was afraid to tell them. How could I tell them? The one time I tried, he denied it, and not even I, the responsible, honest daughter, could convince them otherwise.

So I remained quiet, and let him grow up.

High school was far more tolerable. My brother made his mistakes, and I spent my time focusing on myself, my future, my dreams. Always my dreams. I graduated high school, jumped straight into expensive art school, and told myself I’d make it as an illustrator slash writer. I had it all figured out.

Until my second year of art school, when I didn’t.

Art school completely consumed my passion for drawing. It sucked the soul out of my creativity. I realized toward the end of my second year that I was not built to be an illustrator. I wanted to improve, but I could not picture myself slaving away hours toward a career as a freelance artist. It didn’t feel like my path. So I made the decision: I’d drop out and take a year off to soul-search.

My parents were extremely disappointed. They wanted me to finish school. They even encouraged me to switch to a writing degree, instead, but I wasn’t having it. I felt done with school; my motivation was sucked out of me. I spent the next few years in a depressive haze and threw myself into video games and fantasy worlds just to escape the shame and anxiety and disappointment. I tried to cling to spirituality, but even that wasn’t helping me. I had no idea where to go. I still wanted to write, to create, to breathe magic into the world… but I felt directionless. Powerless.

What ultimately helped me was a change of scenery and a job. I moved to the Pacific Northwest with my parents, got a job at a local craft store, and slowly regained my power. And it was around that time when I decided that I would never be powerless again. I was going to build my ideal life, one brick at a time, regardless of what anyone thought. Intention, determination, focus, and drive got me this far.

It took me just over two decades to realize that this whole time, I’d been performing magick. I clung to whatever gave me a sense of power, when in reality, that power was coming from myself. I am magick, as we all are — but I had a lot to learn to fine-tune that power.

That, today, is what draws me to witchcraft: self-empowerment. The ability to stand up for myself, set an intention, and manifest. Even my dad, who does not make room in his life for a drop of the magical, knows me to be incredibly driven. I make my dreams happen. That’s what I do. Despite what I’d believed when I was younger, witchcraft isn’t about “playing with magic.” It’s a tool, and one I intend to use to my advantage.

 

“Spike”

spike2

Every now and then, I like to reflect on my path: everything I’ve learned and experienced over the last decade. One of my favorite things to reflect on is my relationship with my primary guide — my closest companion in spirit.

I call him “Spike,” and no, that’s not a name I came up with. Yes, I realize that’s a strange name for a spirit guide.

A decade ago, I learned of spirit guides and began a skeptical attempt at meeting my own. My teenage self loved the idea of having friends in spirit, but it was extremely difficult for me to grasp the idea and truly believe that these beings existed alongside me. What if it was just all in my head? Fantasies my dreaming mind came up with for some semblance of connection? Some days, the attempts felt silly.

And then I had a dream.

It was a bizarre dream, and one I wouldn’t ordinarily associate with meeting a powerful entity in spirit. The short of it was that I was escorted to an apartment by an unfamiliar man (who honestly gave me the impression of a mafia boss). The apartment had about a dozen unfamiliar people in it of varying ages. Everyone was gathered around one young man in particular, however: a twenty-something, blond, blue-eyed, and dressed somewhat like a hipster. I’d never seen the guy in my life, but in the dream, I knew him. Felt comfortable around him. I lounged around him like he was my best friend, despite the air of respect he seemed to command.

And when I woke, I knew his name was “Spike.”

Here’s the thing: I never remember names from dreams. I can’t even recall any other name I woke up remembering from a dream. This is the only time I remember waking up with a specific name in mind. The whole experience stuck with me, and upon waking, I realized with growing excitement that I may have just met my guide. It was a bizarre setting, and not at all what I expected, but that’s the thing, isn’t it? Spirit is rarely what we expect.

It took me years to realize that Spike’s choice of appearance/identity was tailored specifically for my teenage self, to help me better connect. Additional dreams and other odd experiences reinforced that connection over the following months. I had just started high school, more or less, and was drawn to alternative culture, being an artsy type. Nothing illicit, as I had no interest in any of that, but I could appreciate hipster/gothy fashion, which was how Spike presented himself to me. This identity made him more relatable — not the spooky “spirit” that my mind had trouble grasping.

For the next few years, I developed a relationship with Spike, learning more about him and trying my damnedest to communicate. At the time, his energy felt so subtle, so distant, that most of my information came through dreams or art that we created together. Often times, I would try to write with him, but I found these sorts of sessions weren’t as successful as intuitive or visual ones.

And that, of course, was frustrating to a young me, who was learning how to develop and trust her intuition. Clairaudience doesn’t come naturally to me, so I have a tougher time trying to intuit words or phrases than feelings or images. More than half the time I tried conversing with Spike, it felt like I was grasping at amorphous ideas, wisps of communication filtered down from the spiritual planes. Spike, however, was patient with me, and often stressed trusting my intuition.

In late 2011, I was messaged by someone I didn’t know — someone who told me she felt compelled to share information with me regarding Spike. She proceeded to tell me things that confirmed thoughts I had about our relationship, and conclusions to which I’d arrived. She told me, “I get the strong impression the reason it is hard for him to contact you with words is that he comes from so ‘far away’ (in terms of his advanced evolution) that it’s hard for him to get ‘low’ enough to speak to you directly.” She also confirmed that he and I share an incredibly deep connection, formed over “many lifetimes and many realms,” and that this is why I’m his only “student” in the physical.

I did not know this woman, but her out-of-the-blue message was confirmation that I so desperately needed at the time. There was a lot more to her message, and I was delighted to hear every single word. She did not ask for anything in return; she simply wanted to share a message to help a struggling teenager connect with a source of significant spiritual wisdom. Nearly eight years later, I’m still grateful to that woman. Her message gave me the confidence I needed to keep working on my intuition and my connection with Spike.

Today, Spike presents himself differently to me. In recent years, he’s shed the lovable hipster guise and adopted something more appropriate for his energy. I see him as more androgynous, with a balance between masculine and feminine energies. The portrait you see above was an interpretation from 2016, when I first noticed the changes. I wouldn’t consider it completely accurate now, but I’ll get there in time. As for his name? “Spike” doesn’t quite suit his identity and energy anymore, but I’ve known him for a decade by that name, and it feels wrong to refer to him as anything but “Spike” or “S.” It’s kind of a hilarious contrast, anyway.

Our relationship is a deep and loving one, but I wouldn’t call it “romantic.” I feel as though we may have shared lives like that, however, which will be interesting to explore in the future. My love for him is from the soul, and while I haven’t connected with him in the last few years, I know he understands. In fact, he probably supported my “distance” from him, knowing that I was learning valuable lessons in the midst of figuring out young adulthood.

But now? Now I’ve reached a point where I know I deserve better. I know I have a path, and a purpose, and I’m ready to manifest a life of emotional, creative, and physical abundance. I will need both Spike and Morpheus to help me get there, and as I understand it, Spike has some exciting things lined up for me this year.

Let 2019 mark the year when I planted and watered the seeds of my dreams, because 2020 carries some powerful energy, and I plan to collect.

(Hilarious side note: as I was proofreading this, “Meant to Be” by Bebe Rexha popped into my head.)

 

Intuitive Art

HS1

Having recently launched my own little Etsy shop and Ko-Fi corner, I thought this would be a good opportunity to talk about my own history and process with intuitive art!

Intuitive art is something I explored in-depth several years ago in my late teens and early twenties. I honestly cannot remember what inspired me to try it; I may have started with trying to draw my own guide(s) and branched out from there. At the time, I was part of a spirituality forum, so I had plenty of people to work with. Intuitive/psychic art isn’t a common form of reading, so I imagine many of those people were intrigued by the notion of receiving a visual reading. I know I certainly was.

I spent a couple years or so experimenting with various forms of intuitive art: simple energy paintings, spirit guide interpretations, higher self interpretations, soul connection portraits, and even aura paintings and past life paintings. I was hungry for information. I wanted to know what the limits were. At what point could I no longer intuit spiritual information?

While I don’t yet know the answer to that question, I do know that my art helped a lot of people, and that in itself was a major motivator. I remember livestreaming sessions where I would paint and the sitter would watch, with a handful of other people chiming in with information they were sensing from my art. I remember people recognizing almost instantly the spirit guide I had painted for them. Even the handful of past life paintings seemed to resonate with the sitters. It was wild.

Never in a million years would I have guessed that this was a skill I could share with the world. I spent much of my childhood as an artsy kid, doodling on scrap paper in school, filling sketchbook after sketchbook with art class assignments or original characters from my stories. I was one of those young artists who sought a life of creativity. “I’ll publish books and illustrate,” I decided upon graduating high school. I attended an expensive art school and lasted two years before I realized art school had killed my passion for drawing.

That was in 2013. Fast-forward to today. I’ve barely drawn in the last several years. I threw myself into writing and gaming and work, instead. Only within the last couple months have I felt the desire to return to art, and I’m sure that’s for a reason. I want to help others with my creations — even if the only thing my creations do is make someone feel happy.

Process

Intuitive art is a strange and subtle thing. When I’m working, the process feels so natural that it’s wild for me to think that I may be connecting with something deeper. I usually begin with colors, because colors come through more easily than shapes or concepts. Once I have colors, I just begin painting. I build up shapes such as faces, bodies, and symbols. As I work, I slide into a focused state. I’m not sure if I could call it trance-like, because I’m still highly aware of what I’m doing, but I have a flow going that I try not to break by talking, typing, or clicking away.

The intuitive part comes in when I’m trying to piece together details, such as colors, facial expressions, symbolism, and even things like hair or dress, which I don’t tend to render in detail (unless the art demands it). Usually, I’ll sit there and feel, “This isn’t right,” and fix something, or I’ll have the urge to incorporate a detail, like a symbol or a certain form of attire. All of it is so subtle that it feels as though I’m simply drawing anything else.

SG2

Due to the nature of my process, these spirit portraits are not intended to be realistic or technically accurate. I focus more on emotions, energies, colors, and symbolism, which I feel is easier for someone else to resonate with. People place different values on physical appearance, so I choose to create portraits that are ethereal, almost alien, with hopes that my clients can connect with the energy conveyed.

As my technical skill improves, my portraits may look a bit more realistic, but for now, technical accuracy is not my goal. My goal is to convey feeling. I want my clients to be able to receive a portrait that they can use as a tool for connection, whether it’s an actual representation of their companions in spirit or a bridge to a more personal relationship. If even one aspect of my art helps my clients, then I will feel as though I’ve succeeded.

While my medium is primarily digital, I am open to exploring intuitive art through traditional mediums — especially paints and inks. However, my space is rather limited in my current apartment, so this may have to wait until the future.

Regardless, I look forward to seeing how this skill evolves!