Nostalgia.

The literal first thing I ever purchased at the woo-woo shop (itself rife with nostalgia and sentimentality for me) was a package of really pretty pricy incense. I didn't want to buy witch stuff strait out, man. I had to ease into it with incense and a few crystals at the ripe old age of 'teen-and-terrified. I had to ask a few groundwork questions, and make myself a known entity before I laid out my cards.

Being a poor kid who would get shouted down at the mere whiff of incense burning it became a secret, sparing, indulgence. I only burnt a little at a time, and only rarely. I burnt incense like most teenagers smoke pot - with a towel crammed under the door and all the windows open.  Incense was broken out for the most important rituals, for the most sacred moments.

Well, recently at another occult shop. I saw they had some incenses that came with mini oils. Being a fiend for miniature vials of oil I had to have it. The second I lit it up I was transported back to my youth, the scent was the same as that first package.

I was taken back to my late night forays into witchery, to setting lights in the high, small, octagonal window over my bed (I'd somehow gotten the idea in my head that the window, being neither indoors nor outdoors was a really nice liminal place to worm things into)- to being affronted by and conquering a malevolent entity.

I was taken back to what I'm sure most people think of as the onset of personal freedom in their teens. Being socially isolated, my freedom took place in dark woods under a hooded robe rather than in shopping malls or movie theatres...(that's a thing people still do, right?).

When I started in on my 30 days of reconnecting (it's been more than 30 days and I'm only 14 posts in) it brought me back to a time when anything was possible. When the ideas that came out of my head didn't require research to validate them (experience worked just fine), but also to the amazing rush of discovering that the ideas from my head were the right ideas after all.

So tonight I jammed the window open, stuffed a towel under the door and shared an entire stick of the incense with my familiars. Something I'd never have done back then in the days of 1/2" at a time, a hasty snuff-out and a quiet prayer that no one would come fussing.  I shared with my childhood self.

I reconnected and remembered.

Something's In the Air

Warning: This entry is going to get sappy, and a little hippy-esque. I apologize in advance.

Another crafty-witch blogged about working on some batches of incense, and I found it amusing. I spent a good portion of the last couple of days working out recipes, and making small test-runs myself. Among these were funerary and necromantic blends, as well as those focused on keeping secrets, consecrating magickal books, and honoring land spirits.

Scent is a weird thing for me. I absolutely adore incense, but cannot stand (and am occasionally physically repelled) by some synthetic scents. Scent, however, is strongly attached to memory for all people - and for someone who has an exceedingly poor memory, it can be magick.

While creating some new recipes, I caught a momentary blend of scents that sent me rushing back to the first time I ever entered an Occult store.

I was in my very, very, early teens. I had a book (probably one by Cunningham) tucked under my arm. With my then-best-friend, and we were browsing incenses. At this time everything was experimental, and tentative. Everything was awkward and I found myself constantly second-guessing not only my intuition, but the material in books. But in that store, surrounded by the mingling scents of Nag Champa incense, patchouli oil, and old books - Magick was alive, real, and palpable. We selected blends designed to evoke the elements - I still have several cones of that incense (Escential Essences "Mystic Forest").

I was never "allowed" to burn incense at home. Which meant that all of my rituals were conducted late at night with a bedroom window open, so that the wafting scent of Magick would not spread through the ductwork and get me a stern yelling-at. To this day there is a secret pleasure in incense. Being able to burn it freely and nearly constantly during my eight month stint out of state was ecstasy! When I light a coal, or punk* magick fills the air with the scent, because what is to follow will be a secret, sacred, joy.

So, while I huddle around The Table Of Doom, rolling cones of "Faun of The Hollow" or beating the scent from Juniper Berries, I revel in the scents flowing up and around me - soaking my skin and hair. They take me back to my roots, to my first spells. To the time when all my magick was sneaking, swift, and clandestine. When it was all new, and filled with secrets.

*Punks are incense sticks, made by dipping "scentless" moulded sticks into oils dissolved in solvents i.e. ALL stick incense. Cones are "punks" as well, manufactured the same way.

Wildcrafting Time - Again.

The moon is waxing, and it's not quite so terribly hot that I can't -breathe-, so it's time again to do wildcrafting of herbs, curious, and whatever else I come across that sparks my interest. That whole solstice bit is icing on the cake, as far as I'm concerned.
The "haul" consisted mostly of leaves for pressing (I press, paint and frame them to make unique artwork). I got two remarkably large oak leaves (nearly 11" long), a couple Catalpa, some American Sycamore, elm and small oak. A huge portion of Horsetail reed, Black-Eyed Susans, some pomegranate blooms/leaves/stems, Coreopsis (dye flowers) and a nice portion of Wood Sorrel. I also came across a couple of lovely little land-snail shells, which are destined for beads. Some of this will be available for sale or trade, soon.

The shocker for a friend of mine (who was busily talking in my ear while I gathered stuff) were the Black Eyed Susans. They are, and I am not joking when I say this, one of the best herbs for untangling and diffusing domestic abuse. The best method, of course, is a .45 to the side of the abuser's head (though a bit overkill, I will admit), but for those of us on the outside who want to establish a more gentle method of control - Black Eyed Susans.
These bright flowers resemble the sun mid-eclipse. Representing that moment when we lose sight of all light, at the darkest possible moment, just before the sun returns. Employing them in either gentle spellwork designed to ease strife, or malicious work designed to insert honey-locust thorns covered in platypus venom into the urethra of an abuser helps to tie one's efforts into the situation at hand. They also help the person suffering the abuse to keep their chin up, which can be invaluable.

The pomegranate bits are going to be incorporated into an incense for underworld journeying work, which will be a trial/experimental run before I consider making more for wider consumption.

I also went on a bit of a 'spree', re-photographing old artwork (and new) for deviantart. I've been making small woodcraft items, pyrographing mostly, and they're turning out nice enough to be proud of. The "new" camera is also doing justice to some of my older works, so I've been replacing old images/uploads with new. And yes, that kind of stuff will be available by commission, or eventually posted up online.

Since it's the Solstice, I took note of what plants were particularly available right now for a future "Midsummer" incense. It will likely balance dark, earthy scents with light, airy ones... because with incense it's hard not to be very literal.

Kapet, or Egyptian Kyphi.

Chewy. Delicious.

I've been dipping my toes (and then my entire personage) into the world of incense making over the last year. I started out with recipes from others, and then began developing my own blends.

A few of them have been a rousing success, the May Day incense had the desired effect, but maybe too much so (1). The circle incense has been grand, but too smokey (it sets off the alarms). And apparently my Satyr-themed incense is so voluminous as to fog up someone's apartment as though a large gang of Rastafarians had recently taken up residence.

The incense I've been trying at for, well, years, has been Kyphi. It's delicate, it's touchy, and if done wrong it just stinks. It seems that a LOT of people use the same mistranslations of the Edfu recipe over and over, or worse... very pared down bastardizations from the more pop authors.