Summon the Serpent

August 18, 2017

It may well be enough just to stay on the potent parts of The Lizard (in Cornwall) in order to “Dream dreams and see visions”. But there are mantric invocations which can help. Or so say the eerie shamanic Lizard cult “The Katchinas, Keepers of The Ancient Dream”. One such powerful ‘Dragon spell’ is an invocation to the dark serpent Goddess, which the Kachinas believe to be the mistress of the hidden secrets of the Lizard. It requires a rock-pool, or rock-chalice to carry it out properly. One inside a seacave inside the earth is best of a1l. If you find one with an s mark on the rim, or overlooking the bowl, it will be especially powerful, as it is already dedicated to the Serpent Goddess. The intention is to communicate with this entity, by seeing pictures, either in the pool, or in your mind. This can supposedly be achieved by intoning aloud the following invocation. It can be repeated as often as you like, until you feel contact has been established.

TO SUMMON THE SERPENT OF THE LIZARD

Treasures that no mind can comprehend,
That no man can harm.
Dream on with tripled powers,
Shining One, your strength is in the stars. Great is the Moon Glow,
And the Moons’ Powers!

Keepers of the Ancient Dream,
Come, Dream in here with us.
If I cry, CAR-AW, CAR-AW!
Show thy self! If I cry, CAR-AW, CAR-AW!
Take it to Yourself!

From the Ancient Dreaming,
The Wise Goddess speaks!

(Here meditate for awhile)

Oh, Mother of Light and Dark.
You who know mercy.
May your moon visions be with us,
As with our ancestors of Horrendous Powers.
Take us now to the Threshold,
Of the Otherworld.
But do not leave us there!

(Again meditate)

Robin Ellis
Dream Weavers of The Lizard

the average adult heroine

August 18, 2017

The predominance of romance in women’s literature is stunningly unrealistic. The assumption that most heroines would necessarily focus that much attention on their love lives is ridiculous, particularly in the modern world. Real women, even if they aren’t queens, have real problems: jobs to do; bills to pay; families to raise; domestic and sexual violence to worry about; sexism to combat; and sometimes racism, homophobia, and other forms of bigotry as well. When the average adult heroine pushes these real problems aside in favour of worrying about how to live happily ever after with her prince, I don’t find her admirable, nor do I find her a good role model. I am likewise offended when a heroine who is perfectly interesting on her own must be forced to couple up in order to hold the interest of a fantasy demographic. I love escapist literature, but the contours of escapism shouldn’t define the rules for every heroine out there. When potential editors ask me why my incredibly busy, stressed, and belaboured queen can’t have a love life, something is wrong.

Erika Johansen,
Why We Need “Ugly” Heroines

pictures of the music

August 17, 2017

You ask me how these pictures are evolved? “They are not pictures of the music theme – pictures of the flying notes – not conscious illustrations of the name given to a piece of music, but just what I see when I hear music – thoughts loosened and set free by the spell of sound.

When I take a brush in hand and the music begins, it is like unlocking the door into a beautiful country. There, stretched far away, are plains and mountains and the billowy sea, and as the music forms a net of sound the people who dwell there enter the scene; tall, slow-moving, stately queens, with jewelled crowns and garments gay or sad, who walk on mountain – tops or stand beside the shore, watching the water – people. These water-folk are passionless, and sway or fall with little heed of time; they toss the spray and, bending down, dive headlong through the deep.

There are the dwellers, too, of the great plain, who sit and brood, made of stone and motionless; the trees, which slumber till some elf goes by with magic spear and wakes the green to life ; towers, white and tall, standing against the darkening sky –

Those tall white towers that one sees afar,
Topping the mountain crests like crowns of snow.
Their silence hangs so heavy in the air
That thoughts are stifled.

Then huddling crowds, who carry spears, hasten across the changing scene. Sunsets fade from rose to grey, and clouds scud across the sky.

For a long time the land I saw when hearing Beethoven was unpeopled; hills, plains, ruined towers, churches by the sea. After a time I saw far off a little company of spearmen ride away across the plain. But now the clanging sea is strong with the salt of the lashing spray and full of elemental life; the riders of the waves, the Queen of Tides, who carries in her hand the pearl-like moon, and bubbles gleaming on the inky wave.

Often when hearing Bach I hear bells ringing in the sky, rung by whirling cords held in the hands of maidens dressed in brown. There is a rare freshness in the air, like morning on a mountain-top, with opal-coloured mists that chase each other fast across the scene.

Chopin brings night ; gardens where mystery and dread lurk under every bush, but joy and passion throb within the air, and the cold moon bewitches all the scene. There is a garden that I often see, with moonlight glistening on the vine-leaves, and drooping roses with pale petals fluttering down, tall, misty trees and purple sky, and lovers wandering there. A drawing of that garden I have shown to several people and asked them if they could play the music that I heard when I drew it. They have all, without any hesitation, played the same. I do not know the name, but – well, I know the music of that place.

Pamela Colman Smith
Pictures in Music
From the Strand magazine, July 1908

How to read Tarot cards

August 16, 2017

Note the dress, the type of face; see if you can trace the character in the face; note the pose…. First watch the simple forms of joy, of fear, of sorrow; look at the position taken by the whole body. . . . After you have found how to tell a simple story, put in more details. . . . Learn from everything, see everything, and above all feel everything! . . . Find eyes within, look for the door into the unknown country.

Pamela Colman Smith
Should the Art Student Think?
From the Craftsman, July 1908

concealed charms

August 13, 2017

At the suggestion of a friend she searched her own bed looking for possible concealed charms, and found such strange things as nails, needles with threads of damask and sendal, finger nails, bones, long strands of hair curiously wound together.

Carlo Ginzburg
The Night Battles: Witchcraft and Agrarian Cults in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries

I deserve to be mocked

August 12, 2017

Making a living by my writing? No! I have a job, and the writing I do is a sideline, a hobby. I use this belittling word on purpose. My literary endeavours bring in no more than pocket money… In some ways, I deserve to be mocked, not because I carry on writing literature without understand its posthumousness, but because I go on regardless of the very real material proof of its posthumousness!

There is something glorious about Kafka’s night-time writing in his room in his parents’ flat. Something wonderful about his obscurity, about the fact that he published so little when his friends published so much. We can read his diaries and letters and think: there’s a man of integrity! That’s what it means, really means, to be a writer! But our impression is dependent on Kafka’s eventual success, and on a culture, his culture, where there was a potential audience for his work all along.

Lars Lyer
Interview in Full Stop
6th January 2012

must be vulnerable to me

August 12, 2017

Most men are very comfortable ‘giving’ me their bodies to play with and use. And yes, I like that. I love that. But it’s not enough. Not nearly enough. I want to crack open your emotions, your pride, your sense of self. I want to take that from you, too.

I will find your emotional insecurities and use them to highlight the power exchange between us, to show you that you can and – because you have to let go and fall in order to know what it’s like to feel me catch you.

And yes…You will love me for it.

Ms Kay
The Femdomdiary

Who writes…

August 9, 2017

Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.

Virginia Woolf
A Room of One’s Own

Prose is not to be read aloud but to oneself alone at night, and it is not quick as poetry but rather a gathering web of insinuations … Prose should be a long intimacy between strangers with no direct appeal to what both may have known. It should slowly appeal to feelings unexpressed, it should in the end draw tears out of the stone …

Henry Green
Pack My Bag