.Avid book reader (and sniffer)
.Devout and occasionally wicked witch
.Overbearing boyfriend of the beautiful m00nchildh0rror
tea and crumpets, cigarettes and small talk, music and cold weather.
now away with trivial things,come along now darlings,leave your troubles at the door, i'll pour your tea, dunk your biscuit and lets have chit chat.
“When Our Lord Lies Interred”
This pice was a part of the OCCULT art show in Salem, MA.
It designed as an altar dedicated to a specific spirit in the artist’s pantheon. It is compsed of a large fetish bundle which has been crafted using various herbs, bones, sacred object, and wrapped in linen. It rests in a casket filled with roses.
The casket bears further talismanic pieces along with an antique skeleton key and a pair of crow’s feet.
By Doreen Valiente
Oh, i have been beyond the town,
Where nightshade black and mandrake grow,
And i have herd and i have seen
What righteous folk would fear to know!
For i have heard, at still midnight,
Upon the hilltop far, forlorn,
With note that echoed through the dark,
The winding of the heathen horn.
And i have seen the fire aglow,
And glinting from he magic sword,
And with the inner eye beheld
The Hornéd One, he sabbat’s lord.
We drank the wine, and broke the bread,
And ate it in he Old One’s name.
We linked our hands to to make a ring,
And laughed and leaped the Sabbat game.
Oh, little do the townsfolk reck,
When dull they lie within their bed!
Beyond the streets, beneath the stars,
A merry round the witches tread!
And round and round the circle spun,
Until the gates swung wide ajar,
That bar the boundaries of earth
From faery realms that shine afar.
Baba Yaga, Slavic folktale and, for me atleast, much loved childhood bedtime story, Baba Yaga was a witch who lived in he forest, she traveled around in a massive mortar and pestle, stylish xD