Admist the activity is a heart and soul of art

I live in one of the most stressful regions of the country, and yet it is also the Art Capital of the world. Here I am, artist by name, insurance agent by profession, and by practice a witch. I'm the busiest I've ever been. Yesterday in the mail I got a copy of the Pratt Institute's catalog. I am afraid to look within at the amazing layouts of art in process.

I just read a blog post from Lauren Raine. A goddess woman and artist whom I look up to. http://threadsofspiderwoman.blogspot.com/2009/09/reflections.htmlHer art is fabulous and her commentary suddenly slammed me back into my artist self.

Art was a part of my magick, part of my magickal process and journey. It was tied to it all and how I communed with my Muses and Gods. Something happened in undergrad as art became critiqued asignments and one more way to excell. I became cut off from my artist and depressed. Since college I have struggled with the practice and the "whys" of art.

I had a beautiful dream last night of looking into a stone surrounded well or pool of purple water with white lotuses floating in it. It would make a perfect painting. It would be good to go into the regions of my younger self, the below, the underworld to commune in that place. What right to I have not to share that?

Art can create beauty, evoke inspiration, peace, hope. One of my favorite paintings is one in the National Museum called hope. There is a woman in a voluminous gown and the dawn in bright pink hues behind her. She is my Dawn Messenger of Hope.

If I connect with God it is not about approval, critiquing, or what society has to say about it. There is nothing too personal, to private, to magickal or sacred to share. It is my duty to share these images.

There is the yellow brick road gleaming ahead of me. The sun has arisen and I will never turn away from it. There is as much change as I will allow.

To be continued...

from out of nothing, comes something new.

In the past couple of months I've been going through major change. My psychic vision and awareness is expanding. My understanding of topics I have been reading about for 15 years is shifting and changing. My concept of self, other people, communication, and my emotional reactions to interpersonal dynamics are all shifting, morphing, redefining.

The other day I made a connection between the singular lifeforce of astrological signs in connection with some of the same ways one might work with an angel or archangel. When the thought occurred to me, I heard a noise like medium sized brass instruments, colors around me got wonky, and the floor felt like it was tilting out from under me. The air got heavy and static charged and I felt as if I had phased out a bit.

I integrated another idea the other day that one can tap into the energetic fields of a person through electronic media and written text. I like the idea and had been testing it for several weeks. When I finally integrated it though, reading the book I was looking at was like listening to a hologram of the person. I was also able to tap into the images in their head that inspired them to describe the situation they way they did. I was using the text as a gateway into learning directly from the author. The shift of color, sound, light, and the floor happened again. My transpersonal chakra was wide open. HOLY CRAP!

Right now I'm playing around with the idea that this experience is similar to opening a zip file and dowloading a much larger set of data from the initial click on an icon. I'm not sure why or how, but I it is very interesting.

As another aside, City Fae beings are much different from the ones that live in the country and green areas. Without contact with healthy land spirits, I'm not sure what they live off of. That's not a fun train of thought if you take it very far....

Hecate sends me to the Harvest

I worry for some of my friends, the self-flaggelating, doubtful, the place of fear from which they start every day. I know its my duty to help them pass through this fear. In ritual recently the Goddess Hecate gave me an athame and a bolene. I gave myself a new athame to work with Hecate. My small antlered handled knapped stone athame just wasn't feeling appropriate. This new athame though is a real weapon. The moment I put it in my hand, I recognized that I could easily kill with it. Something in my head shifted, I was warrior and witch and this was a magickal weapon that I knew how do use on several levels. Oh, I get it. . . Oooooh!

I think back on the women's self-defense classes I assisted with and remember how changed the women were after that class. I think back on new witches learning new skills and feeling for the first time their magick affecting other people and the space around them.

I think about discoveries and new definitions found within women's sacred spaces. I cannot be too busy for this work. It is my path and my responsibility for having those skills. With Hecate's torch, hounds, and sharp dagger by my side, I look into the darkness. I feel the rolling, worried clouds, the wet blankets of autumn, and the bonefires yet to come in the darkness. There is a cauldron waiting for me in that darkness. I do not fear this step for it is not death, but transformation waiting on the other side of the threshold. Eyes and teeth gleam in the darkness, reflecting that torch. I am full of life and am looking forward to this grand harvest. Blessed be.