peonies and creative containers
Fixed Earth: containers, support, grounding
Some people see the container as a capacious space to experiment in, and some people feel it is a barrier that needs to be broken down.
The Cocoon of Writing
Fixed earth: salt crystals, haunted forests, deep rest
The cocoon is not about shame and fear and perfection but it does allow those elements to be held; it contains multitudes. It allows those things to decay and to be renewed. It is miraculous.
Sensitivity and art
Fixed earth: sensitivity, grounding, sensuality
It was Kali Malone’s core artistic principle, ‘cherish sensitivity’, that helped me to think about sensitivity as one of my most precious resources.
Three Tarot Essays
Cardinal Fire: deity, divination, world-yielding
The bridge between deity and humanity isn’t so special, we call it dying
Distilling the Themes of a Story
Cardinal fire: prismatic storytelling, intensity, wholeness
The film is formally beautiful. Long, slow takes. The drama of light through a circular window. The harrowing beauty of autumn leaves against a whitewashed exterior. Mortality is conjured in the changes of seasons, and the gradations of light.
A Match is Struck: on Writing the Present
Cardinal fire: immediacy, fire, creativity.
Unlike the click of a lighter, a match creates a suspended moment in time. The weight in the hand, the sound of the strike, the little fire glowing, and the curl of extinguished smoke.
Liminality in Emma Cline’s The Guest
Mutable water: liminality, precarity, recklessness
Emma Cline’s novel The Guest is a thriller where nothing much happens. The tension and dread are evoked from the seemingly impossible drama of trying to live from moment to moment.
Ritual Support System for Writers
Fixed air: systems, ancient wisdom, collective practices
This can become the container for all of your rituals, devotions, and divinations, and a space to process what your subtle body is experiencing when you generate, edit, and share creative work.
Tiny Acts of Witchcraft in Aase Berg’s Hackers
Fixed air: hacking, repurposing systems, linguistic play
Berg’s collection offers this small hope, this tiny act of witchcraft in a collection that both reproduces and interrogates patriarchal violence and its necrotizing effect.
The Beautiful Apocalypse in Skin Horse by Olivia Cronk
Fixed air: revelation, visions, futures
These everyday objects take on a plastic significance, the ashtray is a repository for waste, and the mingling of the ash with the ‘pink seat’ suggests an uneasy disruption of categories.
Mystery: a closed mouth and an open heart
Cardinal earth: initiation, deep future, building
When you have been inhabiting a world so deeply, it can feel like a loss to turn it into something that other people can perceive. In some ways, the more fully-realised your imaginative space, the more difficult to let go of your vision.
Haga, Haxan, Hag, Hawthorn
Cardinal earth: rapaciousness, growth, deep roots
Hedges, like lawns, are of no use to the witch unless they are overgrown, wild, and generative.
Reproduction in Sara Tuss Efrik’s Persona Peep Show
Mutable fire: film screens, spectrality, excess
‘You want to pee in a red hood you want to lock yourself inside the house. You want to sleep with the wolf. You want to turn on the oven.’
Electric Light
Mutable fire: emergencies, cinematic glimmers, glowworms
The dark spools forward and I grip the branch. I lunge into the deep mud and my holy communion dress is ratted at the hem.
Electricity in the Writing Workshop
Mutable fire: mass psychic currents, desires, teaching and learning
In the writing workshop, there is more free association than we admit, and there is more impossibility than the form officially allows.
Seven of Cups: Unknown Pleasures
Fixed water: hopes + fears, unknown pleasures, the void
A snake isn't worse than a rose if you are looking for a way to kill a character. A jewel isn't better than a tornado if you want to move the action of your story somewhere else.
Rain-Sown Wheat
Fixed water: unfinished business, deep emotions, divination
We record this by leaving the work unfinished and unresolved. The absence is a space for grief.
Ceremony Podcast Season One, Episode Five with B.K. Harbeke
One Halloween night, six friends decide to take a moonlit walk through the woods.
Only five come back.