Feb. 21st, 2018

ashtoreth: (becomming)

PAEAN~ I glorify myself
Dare I to introduce this account with the Homeric words Tell me, O muse, of that ingenious hero[ine] who travelled far and wide in the attempt to find the perfect opening? Perhaps. For I will, depending on the aetherial winds that do blow in with the light of day, wander in pursuit of delicate and fleeting thoughts born of night and shadows. With my face turned toward the sun, I dance in the night's path, calling unto Hekate and Helios to be the gentle patrons of these letters. Which is what this account shall be. Letters written and set adrift on the arcane electric seas of the computer realm. Dear... But to whom shall they be written? Myself, lovers, potential lovers, or just to the muses? For those curious eyes that wander the electric seas and find themselves touching briefly upon these shores? For all of the above? Yes, for all of those I would whisper to on the wind, in the sound of the sea, in the moonlight, from the sun dancing on wave top... Talk to me.
"It's all blood & roses from here on in." ~Peter Grey Ashtoreth Eldritch is both my pen and magical name for public use in writing and arcane circles. I tried keeping an account for writing only, but that didn’t work out so well for me. I am a witch & I cannot keep the magical separate from my writing. Here on these pages, I am exploring the landscape of my soul. The place names will be both similar and different from the place names found in other mythic texts, for we all tap into the deep wells of the mythic subconscious as we manifest them in our waking lives. The some-times narrator of these travelogues is ‘the Witch’. The Witch is the mythic aspect of myself that does not follow the rules of modern society and walks through the older landscapes of the Dreaming with the Ancestors and the Shining Ones.
Reaping the harvest of the apocalypse~ The year wheel turns. The phoenix sheds its skin. The serpent rises from the ash.
Witchcraft is a poetic reality - born from the dragonflies that took shape in the sparks of the first blacksmith's hammer – as He forged Beauty in the cave of Wisdom." - Frisvold & Ristic: The Nocturnal Gospel (tbp)
The power of the Witch lies in having every option open. Here, I will bring discipline, spiritual and mental clarity back to the forefront of my practises. Consider it, if you will, a public workbook and ritual for rewilding life. Witchcraft is, for me, a carnal road: a road that is walked both in flesh and spirit, inseparable if it is to be complete. This red and white path of blood, bone, and breath weaves eternally through the realms of the quick and the dead. Where we walk, we walk in Power. So much of the witch's power has been given away in the misguided attempt to be culturally acceptable by the masses. Witchcraft is a living relationship between knowledge, pleasure, and power. It is a constant within our lives when we follow our path correctly. Therefore, it is my desire to share some of my thoughts, impressions, and experiences encountered whilst pursuing and living a magical life with like-minded individuals. In these pages, I seek to reclaim the way of the witch. To live fully and freely as dictated by my conscience and will. To remake the world in my mythic image and dance with the Powers under the sky wildly and fiercely. Some thoughts will necessarily be for my consumption only, or to be shared with closer friends, not for any reasons of pseudo-elitism, but from the necessity that some thoughts only are comprehended by those who speak the same language of the 'Otherness of the Eternal' which permeates the vision of those walking an ecstatic path.
Deep in the shadows, the imps of ink danced. They whirled and capered sending ideas to the sleeping Witch, giggling while black tendrils seeped into her skin and into her soul. They danced, they dissolved, following the flowing black ink into the Witch, melting into her Shadow. Here are accounts of the worlds at play beneath the common reality of ordinary life: worlds of non-Euclidean geometries, of ancient tomes and murmuring madmen, of ancient legends of undying evil, and of the mad gods at the centre of the universe.

I am in the process of rebuilding [community profile] imps_of_ink here at DreamWidth to house my fiction writing (wordpress is just a bit too sterile for my liking). It's a bit dusty (for now) but it is in progress and will be completed this summer.

Do not mistake me for my mask. You see light dappling on the water and forget the deep, cold dark beneath. ~ Patrick Rothfuss

As spring begins stirring, so too does my desire to express myself a bit more. Sadly, I find that my voice does not harmonise too greatly with the current American expression of 'culture'. I find I have little desire to gather a plethora of likes on either Facebook or Twitter, nor collect followers that I do not interact with. I would rather have 4 quarters than 100 pennies.

To this end, I am content to be a sorceress living and working within my own borders and defined realm. Those of like mind are always welcome here. Please comment on this post and I will be glad to grant you access to this blog.

do not assume that I am a child because I wear flower wreaths in my hair. in the winter time, their petals shrivel to reveal the obsidian bones of a crown underneath. ~ Persephone is not a nymph // k.k.

image by. Stephanie Law code. tessisamess

December 2018


I glorify Myself

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