In southern California / Baja California it has been very humid and rainy this month which unusual, in my experience. I suppose it's part of the weather shift the call La Niña...
Aw, look at me talking about the weather! How cute.
I'm avoiding US theee sociopolitical discussions by talking about the weather.
Or am I? Is this code? Sure it's code!
All language is code, silly-goose-head!
The code word I thought about "virtue-signaling" for in this post was some made-up thing called... oh what is it now... Empathy? Yes, empathy. I got that right.
But then I self-censored.
It's been a wild month. I'm having a lot of thoughts that aren't productive (I want to be dead) and strong feelings that make my arguments appear less than thought out (except they really are).
I mean, people, look, it's not a common occurrence for me to have work I made get targeted by the White House to be censored. I'm not used to having the bronzer spray land right on me, ok?
So of empathy I will simply say– IRREGARDLESS of whether or not you think it is a real thing, empathy is neat. And empathy is not for the faint of heart.
If you ever hear me saying some faux sympathetic crap like, "Oh, I could never imagine...!" then there is something wrong with me. I can imagine. I will imagine. I have imagined. It is uncomfortable, but I am not a coward like that.
So, what shall I fill this space with instead of ranting?
More personal cringe. What else?
And I will probably get side-eye from "Christians" because I am going to be talking about using "magic" and that is not Jesus℠ enough. Even though the man-god was doing magic–erm– miracles all the time...
If offense is nigh unto thee, then stop reading when you hit the upcoming closing parenthesis and go pray for me. No fuss, no muss. Any uplifting thoughts in my direction are welcomed. Keep the muddy, judgmental stuff to yourself, as I have spared you my biting thoughts. (Remember to trust that your God knows better than you do. In ALL the things.)
I started making my own incantation bowls.
I thought it might be interesting to put my own twist on this type of Middle Eastern magical protection technology I learned about not too long ago. Because of course I would.
Traditionally, these bowls are like any normal clay bowl you would find in their time and place, except they would have a protection spell of some kind written on it. It might be like a ghet between the man of the household and Lilith, or a binding or banishment of some other demon(s). The bowl would be buried upside down under the house. Many can be used in one house placed under different locations.
This is no stranger than all the people who have something like a print of St. Patrick's prayer hanging on their wall. And all the unused fine china people have in their homes.
My bowls deviate from tradition at the start. Instead of clay, they are magazine paper based; already covered in words of advice, inspirations, motivations, opportunities, etc for wannabe writers. I have had a pile of Writer's Digest magazines in my possession since the early aughts; a heap of essentially useless paper that has followed me from Massachusetts to Mexico; a reminder that I was a massive idiot for trying to find ways into that world, for letting myself be tempted by the hope that I could grow into writerhood via conventional means.
So I thought, hey, my continuing failure to become a paid writer can be... art, of a sort; at least a craft-time project anyway. I could transform this representation of failure and as I transform the things physically, my thoughts could change as well because I am taking an action that is doable for me. And maybe I will be better for it. This is one way that magic works.
Each magazine is taken apart, rolled, flattened, glued, and spiraled into a wonky bowl shapes. The first two I made when I was quite sick. I was so weak I could not hold the spiral together as I was making them. It took me several tries to secure the spirals without having them sproing apart on me. I had to leave off the project entirely until I regained my strength.
The bowls are shaped and sitting on my work table. Now I must mark them with a sigil and seal them. I feel they must be marked to show that the unfulfillment they represent doesn't have to make me feel like I want to vomit in shame. I am free of this life path that has not been mine to walk. Yet.
Heh– then I stall. I am afraid of ruining these bowls with my inept markings. I should not be nervous, however. I have seen actual incantation bowel. They are all sorts of poorly "decorated." They were things made to be buried, not seen by human eyes or judged by human standards of aesthetics.
Even so, my hand is stayed from further action.
I am not, nor have I ever been a "perfectionist," but many of y'all have pushed me so hard in that direction that I am a consummate f*ck up. No matter how much attention I put to a thing, I am making mistakes with the thing. I have been put in a cycle of hell while y'all bounce out of your whoopsies all giggling and accommodating for yourselves, but I cannot forget those times you leaned in hard on me... It's just all part of the wonder of being sensitive and... disordered.
Anyway,
If any one is interested in supporting me, and would like to have a "simple decorative paper bowl" for your home or whatever space please let me know.
It will give me solid reason to push through and finish the work.
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