#geotia

[bittybatty]

Stolas

I had to draw Stolas. I just had to.

[fgoprideicons]

Pride icons for Geotia~

Asexual icon requested by anon!

[vans3n]

#geotia #sigils #ilostrado (Gallery i) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bq9koq-HBy4/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1xmli5ibol6ir

[the-witch-of-the-oceans]

14th century occultist dude: Make sure you approach these sacred operations with the most virtuous intentions, purified and free of earthly sin

Also occultist dude: Oh and here's like 17 spells to make Biggily Breasted Women dance naked at your command

occultist dude: like just

occultist dude: the biggest tits

[skepticaloccultist]

Improvised Magical Tools

We are accustom to working with certain known variables, those tools with which we have honed our craft, made by our hands dedicating both time and craft to the endeavor of their creation. The wand, the blade, the cup, the censor. Each useful for a particular task, necessary in the more elaborate ceremonies and rituals, and often vital for a particular working.

Yet as the world has become more security oriented traveling with our ritual tools is increasingly unlikely. Unless we are on a long haul flight, or willing to pay for extra baggage, one has little recourse in bringing along the tools of the trade.

I remember in the late 90s talking a ritual dagger through security as an "anthropological" item. The guards were hesitant but ultimately let me take a knife with a 10 inch long blade on a flight from La Guardia to Detroit. But such times and lax attitudes are a thing of ancient history these days, and even getting a bag full of graveyard dirt through a security scanner can be a pain in the ass.

In my recent research residency I found myself in a remote mountain village surrounded by endless expanses of agricultural terraces, often overgrown and unkempt. In the context of my research into the apotropaic markings on and near stone agricultural buildings, water mines and springs I had an opportunity to engage in a bit of 'this and that' yet found myself lacking even the most basic of tools of the craft.

In these instances I have had to rely on a technique I developed while living in New York City, occasionally homeless and couch surfing, yet studying my craft with earnest some decades ago. It relies on the concept of "drifting" or dérive in psychogeography. An altering of the perceptual field that lets one change focus from the first person and trawl the geographic space one inhabits as they travel.

There are some basic principals for the type of things we need to use to practice magic. Bits of spirit bound wood, iron, stone, and bone. Things that have presence, that radiate (often through our long and laborious consecratory actions) with energy. When we are away from our tools we will not have the time to create them anew for some matter that needs sorting. Thus we must locate objects that fit the pattern of our needs in our foreign environment.

When we drift we find ourselves looking at and experiencing space in a new way, one free from expectations and destinations. We are merely pushed and pulled by our cues from the landscape, and find ourselves in places we often ought not be, let alone that we may have no idea of their importance at the time.

During my recent field research I decided I needed to temporarily gear up. I then set about looking for some things that would be required to explore further the spirit presence of certain local water mines I had in my mind that the landscape, ancient with human traffic, could provide me with what I needed.

After a long walk through a foggy morning where I encountered a group of three javali (wild boar) and followed their path through the low bramble along a steep mountain ridge I happened upon a scythe shaped hand tool, commonly used even now among the local farmers. Its blade eaten by rust to a pointed sliver like the first and last edges of the illuminated moon.

At the bottom of the valley on that same morning, as the sun peaked between the receding clouds I came to an end of the boar path and discovered the better part of a broken ceramic vessel, likely abandoned in the decades before tupperware by a field worker. It was only the size of my hand in its current state but would hold enough water for my future purposes.

Some weeks later when the new moon had passed I was exploring some lands that a farmer had given me permission to venture onto. Its many ruins were mostly just rubble, with no markings to be found. But in the charred remains of a once thick roof beam I pull three rusty nails that had a place in my working. Add to these a branch taken fresh from a fire ravaged hazel, a new growth from the root less than a year old, cut with the newly consecrated sickle.

These things have a binding to the land I was working, covered in dust and dew from the place I intended to prod with a crooked finger and a word or two from the Book of St Cyprian. Some other variables, namely a profoundly out of place (non native) datura thorn apple whose flowers were just wilted and seed pods bursting forth, provided the glue of the actions I was to take.

When we set out, our minds at the ready for the things we require, the world conforms to our needs. Like the flotsam of a storm that churns forth the bits and pieces we require 'the drift' shows us where to find what is needed, when it's needed the most.

Finding ourselves without tools at a time of necessity can be disorienting at best, and the ability to recover some crude form of these to help put in place our actions is of utmost concern. But the world is full of objects, that while not consecrated by our own hands have been worn by the abrasion of their path through time to conform to our needs, even if temporarily.

We find among the discarded refuse of history, nature and mankind the makings of our toolkit, the herbs and objects we need. The key is to learn to stop looking directly (seeking), and to open ourselves to the contents of our environment regardless of our personal wants and desires. What we need is always there, we must only come to see it hiding among the rest of realities detritus.

[the-fashionista-fatale]

I never thought I'd say this but ceremonial magic just has too much goddamn Christianity in it.

[blaqfulla]

wips for daaayyyysss

got too many ideas for good old luci here⛧

[metal-math-magick-blog]

Success!!!

So my first goetic evocation was at least a partial success, there are six other charges waiting to be fulfilled.  One of my charges was “I want to make enough money from babysitting to get my planned tattoos by the end of the summer.”  A week later I have three job offers!   Two of them were completely unprovoked.  I have my name listed on a nanny website and  I’ll get usually on average one unprovoked job offer a month.  I got two in the week immediately following the evocations.   I ended up taking the last one of three.  Its going to be super easy work will pay for 90% of the tattoo.  

Wow this is cool.

[thisisrabbit]

The Fortieth Spirit is Raum. He is a Great Earl; and appeareth at first in the Form of a Crow, but after the Command of the Exorcist he putteth on Human Shape. His office is to steal Treasures out King’s Houses, and to carry it whither he is commanded, and to destroy Cities and Dignities of Men, and to tell all things, Past and What Is, and what Will Be; and to cause Love between Friends and Foes. He was of the Order of Thrones. He governeth 30 Legions of Spirits; and his Seal is this, which wear thou as aforesaid.

Goetia – S. L. MacGregor Mathers (1904)

[luckimikasa]

I asked my dad was Goetia was. He didn't know so we ended up googling it. I thought it was pretty cool and he said that it wasn't real and that it was just made up to make a buck.

The fuck it isn't real.

That's demonology.

You don't fuck with demonology, man.

[smokeyourbrainsout-blog]

King Paimon from the Arc Geotia