From my Fetch-mate. For You. x

Every now and again my beloved fetch-mate will pass something through me into the world that is not just for my eyes and ears, nor is it only to be reserved to my inner circle of beloveds and initiate-kin.

He is willing to be known in broader networks and circles by the name Felix (not the name I actually call Him by), but here are some his words, workings, and insights:

“It is that the Craft is the primal poetry of artists torn apart by Yearning and renewed by Cunning and Love. It is that among the witches you will find the most alive, the most mad, the most magnificent, the most wretched... the most. It is as that story told by some of our Art, I have heard, marked by Cain and sired by the Serpent are we and yet heads filled with Fire we have won. Heads that bow down to the Heads of those who will come after. Watch for the Sign made at and to the Heart, here you will know where you Belong. Possessed by a rapturous belonging that may destroy us in the end, dissolve us back into beastial epiphany as if we were anything else but mushrooms dreaming with bones whispering to dying stars.”

-December 29th, 2020.

…

"Do not dance around this, dance through this. You will have to be clothed by all these halls, and through this maze discover the blessing of the Rose. Know that you were born with this rose blooming in your heart and that each year year that goes by a petal falls and kisses the dirt. Until all the petals are gone revealing the star-white gleaming of your bones know that the rose does not stop blooming, know that there will always be more roses blooming. And that which threatens the beauty of this Mystery... that which would seek to rip the Rose from the stem, yes they will feel the small sting of thorns, but more so than this, the reddest and purist rage of the heart on fire with healing. Those that rip the rose from the stem, run far... run to the end of the bitter sea, and let her take you, or face the reddest rage of pure feeling.

The Lady counts a string of her own pearls for the whole world, as her face shifts and changes... listen to Her counting, find peace in that. The moon will still dance with sun and earth. If nothing else, draw peace from that. Then go to the sea with beloveds and after cursing all that has harmed you and yours, cleanse yourself in the waves, for Our Mother the Ocean and the People of the Sea, are ancient and welcoming. Make sure to tether to land if you will not be swept away... and know the blooming rose in the heart needs tenderness, fierce passion, and constant blessings.

Fear will not destroy you in the end, it is submission to what seems most horrific... remember the Son of Art, the Thorn-Horned One of the road to gnosis. Artfulness is required for this revolution, my beloved. And drink deep of the well that sustains you.”

-March 16th, 2019.

…

“The People of Our Covenant will remember the signs the stars make as they wheel in the black air. The arc of the circle of stones and the secret knowledge buried there. The power in the river and the fish beneath the wave. The island rising from the sea... all these are the inheritance and that which we are sworn to defend. And times will come when you are scattered across the broad, Wild earth and you will have to learn how Our Queen Herself whispers on the winds. There will be starvation, ruin, and disease, and after fire and noose shaped nightmares... after that a strange and brazen freedom. It will not be the same thing as liberty. Best to keep your watches in your pockets and your scissors neatly drawn. The old witches could curse with a bent nail and a piece of stone... bless with salt and vervain, make holy with the water of the moon and the heart full. In the end your Art will be your life lived and how we come to Death. In the end we will remember the signs the stars make and begin to read the story.”

-April 24th, 2018.

…

"It is not the highest or lowest that ranks here, it is ever the Eyes of the Hosts that make matter the first providence.

Give not the Angels what you would not give the Raiders of Hell, or the Faerie Families of the Side...

Take not the Sword-Tongue of the Flaming Seraph to make menace of the dwellers in clouds, or in sea, or in land...

And break not the Covenant between them...

For all are witnesses to the Way of the Wyrm, and all know the secret signs that open to the Land of Youth."

-November 29th, 2016.

…

Here's a spell if you need it:

“Take the bone of a black dog who died of natural causes

and spoilt milk.

Bring also fresh milk and honey and a Red Rose.

Go to the Crossroads and conjure your familiar spirits who care and the One(s) Whom You Would.

Let them know why you have come.

Ask them for a Sigil that embodies the Oppressors and the Systems that sustain that Oppression.

Trace it on the ground with your left hand in the dirt.

Ask them for a Sigil that embodies the Strength, Vitality, and Power of the Oppressed in this System and draw it on the ground.

Raise power in the ways you know how for the purpose at hand... and then when it peaks throw the spoilt milk on the Sigil of the Oppressors.

Place the bone of the black dog between the Sigils; for protection and warding for those we are working for. The Hounds will also take back any bullshit sent forth from the Oppressors.

Pour the honey and milk over the Sigil of the Oppressed within the System.

Place the Rose somewhere else on the ground and pray to Our Lady who Knows Love.

"Our Lady who blasts the unjust as the Raven Queen and blesses the just as the Shining Moon above, witness what I have done here, may Love hold strong and bloom in the hearts of All. So be it done."

Turn away, do not look back, go home.”

-November 3rd, 2016.

…

Go to the ocean, gather up sea-wrack and drift-wood. Leave the shells, bless them, but do not take them, they are the homes of important spirits.

Take with you pine resin or a pine-cone and sing a blessing to the Sea People. If they feel welcoming, walk into the water as the sun is setting and carry the pine resin in your hand against your heart. Or the pinecone.

Submerge your genitals beneath the waves and fill the salt water helping to take away all that is held in your belly, womb, or genitals. Let the rest beat through your heart and chest into the pinecone and when it is full and your heart feels lighter, ideally as the sun sets over the West, give it to wave-people. Let them take it down and away.

Leave, gather your belongings, do not look back.
- August 24th, 2017.

…

Let it be that the Work is good. Let it be that the Work is for justice, which means healing, which means love, which means life. Let it be that the Earth is Her Own Wonder, and that we as ones of Her are filled with that wonder and born of that wonder, celebrating it ceaselessly. Let it be that all these goods Works become the Great Work of the Gods. For you are Gods, Gods among Gods among Gods, and then all the Worlds are in wonder.

-May 22nd, 2020.

…

"Should you need it.

Drop a tear in a shell, place that shell and that tear in a bowl of warm milk or water. Take honey and sing over the bowl, mix it together.

This will soothe you and your's in these times.

Steel yourselves with the mightiest Love.

We call these the Bridge Times.

That Dream, that Vision, there it is...

I know you don't believe me, I can feel your heart back away from me when I begin to say these things to you.

I ask you to side with courage, I ask you to side with knowing, I ask you to listen deeply.

Yes, it will take moving mountains, but the mountains move you, and with you. Your People, my People, we are the People of Mountains.

We are sending you all everything we have these days. Our worlds are far too interlinked, these are the Bridge Times.

Here's my hand, take it, walk with me."

-June 1st, 2020.

…

"Every place your shoed feet hit, the corner of every road, meeting another tar-warred road... and another... the graveyards of boxes and broken, bruised, rotting flowers, and the cemeteries of the treasures of the earth and the blood of dragons... your cities smell of the repressed, and the long-ago stolen away from the wild places, where the roads finished and we trusted the smell of the soil, and knew when to pause and turn around.

Everywhere there is the shame of murder, rape, and deceit. Everywhere the capacity for Church and State, Nation, and Politic, to forge from the fortitude of insanity, more, more, more. How much more will you give them? You have given them your thoughts, do not give them the Secret Name of the Lady that is the Mystery of the human heart.

Learn the spell of the ravens who sound as bees and the bees who hum the crow tune.

Make amends. Do it. Every spear broken and burnt, it is the same spear as your ancestors, but the tree spirit is a different tree spirit, but the stone spirit a different stone, but the way it is thrown, the way we taught it... all held together by the iron-hungry power of the blood that sings the heart-song through everything.

Remember the trinity... Silence, Sound, Light... remember the binder, blesser, ruiner, and holiness of the Darkness within and behind all things.

Everything comes alive when we waken unto life. Everything. And this is just the beginning."

-January 25th, 2018.

…

It is the breath of the serpent, which you may call vital force, that moves all things in this world. It is the heartbeat that mediates this and so work with the shrine of the hearth flame within you, call upon the Mighty Woman and allow Her to guide you in the work of strengthening the forge of the heart. It is in this way that the Breath of the Serpent may move through you in the great cycles, connecting all who live and die, and the work of your own being may become manifest with us here. The heart is central for these reasons, and more.

-February 18th, 2021.

The Weapon of the Witches has always been the sharpened knife, the drum of the spirits, the glamour of our eerie and otherworldly beautiful asymmetry, and the cup full for us all. For the Lady dines with us because of us, and the Devil pipes until even the winds are his to play. x

-2017.