#the salt in the sea brings us near shows us whats divine

[yugocar]

if i die and you bitches dont fly in for my funeral and blast this we were never mutuals

[dwollsadventures]

Of all the Mesopotamian gods and monsters, Tiamat is the most well-known. Mostly because she is both a god and a monster. In the Akkadian religion Tiamat was originally a primordial figure, a goddess symbolizing salt water. In the beginning of the cosmos the salt water of Tiamat mixed with the freshwater of Apsu (an event actually seen in the Persian Gulf). There the two sat and slept, basking in each other's presence. There was no Earth, no Heaven, no light. Only a dark, warm swirling of water, reminiscent of both the beginning of the universe and the womb. Among the pair's offspring was Lahmu and Lahamu, who went on to give rise to the new generation of gods, the earthly and heavenly ones. Apsu planned to kill his children, as gods of the Near East are wont to do, but was slain before he could carry out the theocide. In revenge Tiamat rose up, birthed a legion of monsters (see all previous entries), and sought to carry out Apsu's original plan. In her possession she had the Tablet of Destinies, which granted the holder dominion over the cosmos, a clay "crown" of the divine right to rule. Tiamat was a terrible force to reckon with. The earthly and heavenly gods needed a hero to save them. So they called upon Anu. Or was it Enlil? No, it was Marduk! Marduk came as slew Tiamat with a club in a gruesome fashion. Her armies were summarily bound and shackled to his feet. Forevermore they would serve his as the demons and monsters of the new age. For, after the battle, Marduk took the Tablet of Destinies and Tiamat's body to make the Earth as we know it. Ribs became the firmament of heaven and earth, eyes became the gushing Tigris and Euphrates, and her coiled tail became the Milky Way. Despite being called a primordial goddess, Tiamat was probably never worshipped. She has her origins with the older Sumerian goddess Nammu. Nammu filled a very similar role to the Sumerians but never as a monstrous figure. Salt water is their connecting force, which the combined Mesopotamian religion considered both instrumental to the formation of life, as well as dangerous and terrible. Freshwater, apsu, was considered life-giving and sacred, a whole ocean of it was said to lie beneath the earth to supply it with life. Saltwater meanwhile was complementary but less inviting. It can't be drunk and it kills crops, it does not serve humanity. The life that comes from it is similar: numerous and terrifying demons. Tiamat's name is literally derived from tāmtu, meaning sea. A similar concept sharing the same origin can be found in the "tehom" of genesis. 

Several recurring themes show up in Tiamat's story: that of the father of the gods looking to slay the new generation, the primordial being slayed and divided up to make the earth, but arguably the most famous, that of the god-hero slaying the primordial serpent. A theme known as "Chaoskampf" in German. Here the serpent represents /chaos/: the shapeless buildings blocks of the universe, the wide expanse of the uninhabitable cosmos, every part of the world too harsh and dangerous for humanity to survive in. As the ocean incarnate Tiamat is a perfect example of this chaos. But is she a serpent? It's a little unclear. In the Enuma Elish her form is specified once and is ambiguous. She has "a tail, a thigh, lower parts, a belly, an udder, ribs, a neck, a head, a skull, eyes, nostrils, a mouth, lips, viscera, a heart, arteries, and blood". Which... isn't all that descriptive. Excluding the udder, all those things can be found in nearly every land mammal and most reptiles. The inclusion of the udder, however, leads me to believe Tiamat is a cow. Or possibly a goat. Kidding aside (although... her being a primordial cow who brings forth saltwater from her udders wouldn't be that out of pocket for comparative mythology...), the shape most given to Tiamat is that of a serpent. Unfortunately, there doesn't appear to be any definitive depictions of her. The one most identified with her, a cylinder seal from the Neo-Assyrian period, depicts a classical usumgallu, but does not offer any positive indication that it is indeed Tiamat. Because of how unclear the description from the text is, it's unlikely the mystery will have a satisfying conclusion. In keeping with every other appearance of the chaoskampf theme and her offspring, it's probably that she assumed a serpentine form and that it was in some way a combination of many different animals as well. Though slain like a common wyvern, Tiamat remains at the forefront of the Mesopotamian religion in the modern world. Though the sea is dangerous and merciless, and the things that dwell within it are plentiful and scary, it was from it that life sprung from all those eons ago. Without Tiamat, Marduk would not exist, nor would the demons of the mountain and forest and sea, nor would I or any of you reading this. She may never have been worshipped as a proper goddess in her heyday, but she at least deserves our thanks for that most universal of gifts, life.

-- And here she is! I've drawn Tiamat once before in 2018 as part of a school project about Chaoskampf, but never her serpentine form. Unsurprisingly, it gave me a bunch of trouble. How do you draw something as huge and complex as a primordial serpent? My idea was to use a sea serpent as the base and have all the other demons represented as parts. A sort of big monster that's constantly changing, made up of the parts of all the others animals and monsters. You can sort of see her sea serpent head is based on a pike's. My initial idea was to make it in two versions as a gif, one with her "goddess" form colored in, the next with her monstrous form colored in. But it sucked. So I'd rather give the central piece the spotlight and leave the details of the sea serpent up to your imagination. 

This has been a very fun, albeit slow series. Almost the most research done for a single series of anything I've done here. What's next? Probably not another long-form series, at least for a while. The actual first installment of TDG Acronym Pending is what I theoretically should be focusing on, but we'll see. Got to figure out the title before though... Have a safe holidays.

[barberwitch]

Witch Tip Wednesday 12.19.18

Perfume Magic, the Scent of Witchcraft

I received this ask, and it’s something that I figured could open up some witchy possibilities:

“hi! I've been thinking about this for a while now and I'd love to have your opinion. What do you think is the magical potency of perfumes? I've listed the components of perfumes I wear and noticed that the most used ingredients were ylang-ylang/vanilla/mandarin&jasmine. On a similar note,do you think breaking down the ingredients of a perfume and looking at the magical properties of each of them can give a hint for the magical use for a it? sex/love/divination seemed most common in my experiment”

Hi there! So you’ve touched on something that is deeply twined with witchcraft. Let’s start with the basics, perfumes are usually a form of a tincture, though I mean that in the sense of botanicals infused into an alcohol base, not necessarily a potable (drinkable) one.

Perfume is magic. It can entice, repulse, spark a memory, or even create one. Not just that, but it has deep ties to witches through an odd other use which happens to be a connection near and dear to me...Poison.

“Something with poison in it I think. With poison in it. But attractive to the eye and soothing to the smell. Poppies. Poppies. Poppies will put them to sleep. Sleep. Now they'll sleep.”- Wicked Witch of the West

You see, perfume based in alcohol is a very old concept. In the case above, there’s a very obvious correlation to that simple fact. Opium is what’s made when you mix poppy sap with alcohol, and it in turn changes into something that changes what it interacts with. It’s a poison. Herbs, resins, rare spices and even animal based parts like ambergris and musk are molded together to create a pleasing scent. It’s how medicine was made, but with a different intent. Healers, alchemists, witches all knew the process, but it was made into a mundane art and luxury. Perfume though had multiple uses and connotation: hiding bad hygiene in some eras, but also to enhance beauty.

Beauty being fabricated is a form of witchcraft, and at is base is glamour magic. Altering how you are represented through the senses. Having these connotations of beauty, harkens back to the side of people accused of witchcraft for embracing sexuality. It has developed of course, and changed, but there has also been a history of perfumes being used for poison, having poisonous ingredients, or poisons disguised as perfumes which always comes back to Saturn to me. Most Saturnian herbs have a different allegiance that isn’t talked about in depth that often, and that’s the association with Venus.

Venus you see, is where we get the word Venom from. Venom and poison are a modern concept for being negative, where as originally, venom meant something more along the lines of “change”. Venoms were made by doctors and witches, and medicine was magic because it was an infusion of herbs that changed something. Whether changing their scent, or changing them from sick to healthy, or alive to dead. This concept fits squarely in what witches strive to do, changing things for better or worse through means which aren’t fully understood to those on the outside.

What I’m saying is you can, and should use your perfumes for magic. I’ve been doing it for years and it (fragrance) is a very important part of my craft.

What you’ve done (focusing on the individual aspects of the perfume) is an awesome way to incorporate fragrance into your craft, but it does bring up another topic: substitutions.

Many fragrance companies use fake botanicals or chemicals to create the scents, keeping that in mind there’s only so much magical oomph you can pack into your workings with them. It’s easier the simpler the fragrance profile, and some colognes and perfumes do use the real stuff. To put in perspective, what would you rather use in a spell (ignoring allergies) real lavender or fake lavender. Both may be able to get the job done, but one will get it done better, or faster, or with less work.

Fragrance used for specific workings can get a bit convoluted and you have to treat it as a spell. You can’t really look at the individual ingredients so much as the whole. There may be contradictory uses for the plants, so the easiest way to use them is like a Venn Diagram. What associations do they have in common? The more they have in common, the more multipurpose. If there are too many contradictions, then it’s easier to look at it as a whole. What does the combination feel like to you?

It can be difficult sussing through the actual ingredients (example, violet fragrances very rarely have any violets in them. Usually it’s orris root), so treating it as a whole may be easier.

If you really want to dig in, I’d try making your own. Fragrance can be a powerful tool if used correctly, but if you aren’t willing to give it as much thought and attention as you would any other spell, then don’t rely on it as your only tool.

Also, my go to for fragrance enhancements are handmade or Jo Malone: Leather & Artemisia, Dark Amber & Ginger Lilly, Lime Basil & Mandarin, are all in my daily rotations and I’m messing around with Red Current & English Oak. There are others I enjoy too like Wood Sage & Sea Salt and Myrhh & Tonka, but it’s pricey and sometimes a tester is all I have to work with.

I could go on and on, but I’m already way pst my usual posting time but it’s still the 19th! Hopefully this helped open some ideas, or at the least showed you aren’t alone in wanting to use your scents for magic.

🦇Cheers, Barberwitch

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[saintcupid]

Witch/Familiar AU

Hello all! I just want to mention that there’s brief mentioning of people hurting an animal (Ryan lmao)! It’s very short, but still! I figured I should bring it up just in case!

The night falls, slowly, softly. Like a feather, soon to meet the raging river that’s made up of mother’s tears and children’s self spilled blood. The Moloch of Matt’s age. Ten thousand deaths in ten thousand seas under the stars. It falls without question, and without an explanation as to why it does.

It comes whether you value the weight of the darkness or not. It comes. I am that I am. I come.

I come.

And Matt’s so scared of the night. And Matt wishes that the moon would forget to fall down from the sky. And Matt is finally developing his backbone, only with the late lamp lights outside his cottage. Slowly, slowly, and lovely, lovely, he falls in love with the night sky.

A prophesied dusk gently introduces us to brilliant stars, the freckles of a sleeping god. Giants forged in black holes feed off heavenly light beams that promptly warp into speckles upon inked coverage.

It was Samhain. Matt was counting his herbs, sorting them, plucking, picking, trimming, it had to be perfect for tonight. It was a serious crime, criminal code, perhaps, to pass up this opportunity the moon had gifted him on this special occasion. He needed more ingredients for a spell he was working on, and he could only obtain them on this night.

The young man was a healer, a garden witch. Matt was made up of morning dew, copper coins, mint, and ladybug legs. He smelled of thyme and peaches, with a hint of coffee. Honey dripped from his lips as liquid love clung to his eyelashes, making his vision hazy with adoration towards the craft he was called to.

His plants, his fruit, his light, it felt like a personal accomplishment to his own divine being. Forest animals came to play, Matt feeding them berries and nuts, cream and wine. He was one with them, and saw himself not above them, but eye to dilated eye with the woodland spirits. They brought him small gifts, wilting petals that dowsed his boney fingers in a roses scent. They brought him shiny rocks, snake skin, plastic forks, dirty shoelaces, and love letters from unrequited relationships. He had found irony in the rotting tree, dead as the love between the two simplistic human beings.

It tickled his soul and plucked his heart string to a miraculous tune.

Tonight, he decided to roam the back roads of his little village in search of precious stones and golden coins that would appear in the darkness. Herbs blessed by the moons light were a rarity, so he brought a little wooden basket with him. Under a red cloth, he brought some milk and cheese to appease the fae folk that resided in the woods where he was traveling.

He wore earthly colors, dark green overalls with laced up boots coinciding with a witches hat, both a worn out tan color. Matt had large, round spectacles with a slightly dirty white shirt, which was chronically coated in animal fur. He sported a large coat that hemmed to his boney knees. It was a wine red color, the fabric usually covered in pollen or petals. He was never seen without his murky green scarf, it was a gift from an elf as a return for helping him sew up a couple holes in his shirt. Matt was messy, but he was happy.

The sun was almost set when he left, the young man confident in himself as he knew exactly where to go and what he wanted. Matt delicately stepped into the forest, treading carefully as he hated to disturb the growing grass or the resting mushrooms. He made his way through the thickets, onto the path which lead to particular treasures only found on this night. The witch took his time, humming a little tune to himself as he left some chunks of cheese near a tree, Matt sensing delight within the woods as honor seeped past his skin in the form of singing.

All was well in the world.

Matt inhaled gently through his nose then sighed, eyes fluttering closed as he could feel fae creep up next to him to obtain his cheddar and milk. He could feel them lightly kissing his cheeks and nose, whispering sweet thank yous and goodbyes in a language only compassionate hearts could understand.

He smiled softly as he heard gentle giggling, the smile turning toothy as he started to giggle as well. Matt slowly opened his eyes to find herbs dangling out of his coat pocket, and the heavy weight of change in the other as his cheeks were dusted pink from the sickly sweet kisses.

Suddenly, his smile was cut short as he heard an inhuman wail in the distance. Matt’s eyes widened as his brow furrowed, his head whipping around to locate where the screeching was coming from. He could make out dots of light and critters scampering away quickly upon the agonized call, and he felt like doing the same as well.

He backed away slowly, breath uneven as he trembled. What was that? What’s happening? Is someone dying? Should I go help?

The screaming gave him chills, it made his spine tingle and the center of his chest cold. Matt’s eyes dilated in fear, his skin feeling prickly as he swallowed nervously, shaking.

He didn’t know what to do, he was stuck in a terrible dilemma. Should he run? Or should he help? Matt picked at his nails nervously, gently chewing his bottom lip as he scuffled his beat up converse on the ground. The boy was a savant at healing, at nurturing the sick. If the person, or...thing...out there was injured, perhaps he could help…?

Another terrifying scream ensued, which promptly tore a hole in his heart, determination oozing out of the wound as he started running towards the sound without an answer to his thoughts.

It got louder, and louder, more agonizing as the seconds passed by. Matt’s ears were ringing as his vision blurred, the young man quite literally stumbling in front of a clearing where he stopped dead in his tracks. There were three dark figures, and they were laughing to themselves as they crowded around what seemed like a large plank of wood resting on the ground.

But there was something wriggling, thrashing on it. It screamed, it cried out for help, it mourned. Matt was frozen in place, petrified, which swiftly turned to mortification as he saw a torch being lit. It illuminated the cross, showing a Maine Coon nailed to it by its paws and scruff.

It gave Matt shivers up his spine as his eyes immediately watered, his vision warping, fading. Salt and perversion of innocence ghosted over his irises in a milky form, making the flesh burn as despair dusted over his eyelashes. Liquid dripped down his flushed cheeks as his soft heart split in half upon seeing one of the woodland spirits being hoisted up for all to see. It caused him to cry out himself in grief as water gushed down his cheeks, his scream broken. He rushed towards the group right as they were about to set fire to the cross, the young man flinging himself at one of the figures.

“Stop!” He shrieked, trying to pin down one of the bodies as he tackled someone to the ground.

“Stop it!”

Matt was no fighter, and he had no idea if he would survive the night against these unknown beings with their unknown strength. His gentle, boney hands tried to grip onto the massive muscles of the man he was straddling, which was short lived as he was picked up like he weighed nothing and thrown off of him. He whimpered loudly as he felt a swift kick to his back, proceeding by a kick to the face, followed by his stomach.

“I’m going to die here, oh my god-”

This went on for a few moments, the witch hyperventilating, his tear streaked face was bruising, bleeding, broken. Matt was huddled in a small ball, his lanky legs retracting to his body. He didn’t want it to come to this, but something had to be done.

In a panic, Matt mumbled something under his breath in a shaky tone, the boy shivering as he could immediately hear a distant howling. The men stopped, looking off into the distance, momentarily pausing their actions.

A moment of silence.

“What did you do…?” One of them asked as he backed away from Matt, looking around.

One by one.

Bit by breaking bit of Matt’s bones.

Here it comes.

Here I come.

There were hoards of glowing eyes watching the four from the trees surrounding them, blinking slowly, or not at all. The three beings stepped away from the boy, looking around frantically as there was deafening silence, other than Matt’s haggard breathing.

Then slowly, softly, all was quiet.

Then slowly, softly, fear corrupted them.

It was completely still. The sun was set, the only light source being the torch in one of the man’s hands.

There was a low, very low, huffing. Multiple breaths shuddering, in unison, closing in on the men.

Breathing, just breathing. No growling, no claws, no fangs, nothing.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Shudder.

Here I come.

...

I want to see them illuminated in the dark

What we think about ourselves determines what we can do

I can’t feel my shoes because my heels are bleeding happily I’ll drop off. He did not hurt me he didn’t bring harm to no one. Do not think you can waste my time this will not be difficult. And forget me now. Loveless and lost is what they are. Lean into my side. See creation come apart. Trenches are my home he did not hurt me he didn’t bring harm to no one. Regrettably, created in my heart this is no black and white I didn’t I didn’t I didn’t I didn’t I didn’t so don’t think you can raise that child? I love you, alas! My friend, I love you, alas.

There he sits, flowing, waiting

Cherry tree blossoms on blue lake skies

Does Yahweh know how to worship my love? Does he bottle the spilled blood lost on his behalf?

Does he still know the way to my heart after the road became dusty with grief, desolate and then overgrown with needs other than himself? It’s been a long forgotten path, muddy with tears and then promptly dried with dull resolution.

He was remade in his era of absolution

He starves somewhere

He dies

He does not have any lovers

He’s scared

Please see the cigarette ember

This is his kitchen

He wants them to know what he’s done

They are very afraid

I do not have any friends

Everything is clean and comfortable to the touch

I often see people

But they do not look out the window

Because I’m not there

I’m scared

This is his design.

This is his design.

This is his design.

He loves veins and broken things.

This is his design.

What can you do against me?

This is my design.

This is his design.

Now, bring him here.

;;;;

((()

“””””””””””””””””””

Stop.

Jibaeja.m

Okay!

Look Matt it’s the coat we bought together. Isn’t that nice? You can really get away with anything you know, my dad once stole a cano in front of everyone because he smiled and was nice and o h oh oh oh oh oh i I i I i h

H

9999999

864909

92

5

3

it's not my brother it's not my friends it's not my family - he noted how he excluded brother from family

415

Nothing lasts forever except god his words and the souls of men

Ryan…?

Ryan

Ryan

R y a n

..

…..

……….

Wake up now.

We’ve been...watching you.

……………..

Matt sat up gasping, which turned swiftly into coughing. His breath was shuddering as he blinked quickly, his frail body quaking as he looked around in the softly lit arena.

He whimpered quietly as he rubbed his wet eyes with the back of his hand before squeezing them shut tightly. He sniffled, then opened his eyes again to see a light.

The mushrooms gave off a lovely green glow, Matt being able to see his way around quite clearly, actually. Breath ragged, he started to think to himself, to think for himself.

“I need t-to get out of here.” He whispered, trying to get up.

He positioned himself to a kneeling pose, one foot on the ground as his chest heaved, Matt’s head bowing. His hand was rested on his propped up knee, the witch shuddering as his ribs ached. Counting down from three, he hoisted himself up, stumbling a bit as his legs started to buckle underneath him.

Matt caught himself, thankfully, then straightened up the best he could. He brushed off his overalls, then looked around properly. He sniffled softly as his eyes glanced over his surroundings, the young man promptly stiffening as he saw a figure crouching on the ground across from him.

“Matthew.”

His inhale shook.

“Come here, quickly.”

Okay…

Here he comes.

Here I come.

...footsteps

Matt cleared his throat.

“I...wh...o…?”

“Why does it matter.” The being murmured, denying Matt his name.

The figure motioned for the witch to crouch down as well, and upon seeing the cat, he dropped to his knees.

“Oh...oh my god…” He breathed, his hands shaking violently as he reached out for the animal.

“I’ve done all I can do.”

Matt looked up with watery eyes as the being stood up, his bottom lip trembling.

“Help me! Ple-please-”

But the figure was already gone.

Blinking, Matt then promptly looked down at the cat, his tears clouding over the wounds. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand again, then wished his vision wasn’t clear as he beheld the mess beneath him. The cat’s coat was matted, the blood had congealed on him as he was now panting softly. Matt’s fingers twitched as one hand came to gently, very gently, stroke his head as the other delicately touched his stomach.

“Shh...shh...it’s okay.” Matt whispered, the cat still keeping his eyes closed despite the soft touches.

“I’m here, I’m here. No need t-to worry, okay?” The witch murmured as he sniffled.

Matt tentatively held the cat’s paws in his shaking hands, proceeding to speak in a dead language very few could understand. He watched as the holes from the nails closed slowly, then sealed up completely. Matt smiled softly to himself, quietly proud about his work despite the fear.

“I don’t have all of my tools with me.” He breathed after the incantation, the boy trembling as the large cat’s huffing suddenly became more labored.

Matt quickly looked around, finding himself to be completely alone. The glowing eyes had vanished, as did the men. But one thing that didn’t disappear was his black eye, and the blood that was covering his chin and past his nose. Matt’s body had already healed most of the wounds, albeit the bones were still sore, but they weren’t broken anymore. He looked back down at the creature, panic placing its hands on Matt’s head, the pressure seeping into his skull.

“I-I’m guna pick you up now, okay? I’m guna t-take you home.” Matt stuttered as he cautiously, and very slowly, picked up the Maine Coon.

There was no fight.

He cradled the cat, his breath shuddering as he got up and started limping home, which turned into a painful sprint as he felt the life leaving the animal. Matt was sensitive to this type of energy, as he gave, and gave, and politely never received the blessings in return. He could feel the cat slipping away, his connection to animals was unbreakable and now was the time to fix this depleting life force.

So he ran. As fast as he could. He ran.

And ran.

[oraclequill]

Commission - To Not Be Lost; Robin/Tiki

For @knightlysong, who commissioned me with the request of something with Robin/Tiki. Its set right around after Paralogue 17 in Fire Emblem Awakening.

A sea of black waves rolls around him, bringing him deeper into the chasm below. Robin stares up, letting his neck lift, to where the surface is. His arms are too heavy to lift and push himself over and break above the cold, churning water.

Opening his mouth in the attempt to call for help, the deluge invades his lungs, and further he comes to sink. The silence is made to tremble when a noise flows in with the water. Robin lets his eyes widen as they began to lull shut, trying to hear the sound better.

More noises come in, matching in strength of the waves around him. The calls disturb the water that now froths and bubbles from far below. Robin feels his body sink faster when something works to keep him pulled under.

The noise, he understands, are voices that echo into the deep. Each becomes louder and more fervent in their demand of him. Their urging fuels him to fight against what holds him back and away from returning to them.

As he struggles and the water trembles more, a person’s voice calls out. The sound rings from a smoked figure, basked in solid light. The ends of the figure’s fingers reach for him and Robin drifts his hand to touch and take the help that is offered.

–

Robin shifts on his bed cot, opening his tired eyes slowly. He stares at the tarp and lulls his neck to look at the inside of his tent and his senses begin to soak in his surroundings; the sight of the things he owns.

The sounds of the insects that buzz and flutter across the Divine Dragon Grounds. The roar of the ocean and how the water lunges and slams against the cliffs. The dull drift of salt spray that descends on the ground from the waves, which are but a few short miles away.

A feeling of unease comes to rest in his stomach and Robin shudders. His shirt vest and long hood are beside his place of rest. Robin pulls his shirt above his head, fitting it properly to his chest and he hesitates in taking the jacket.

His fingers lift up the sleeve, tracing the pattern in the fabric that, in recent weeks, has begun to glow and shine. Three of the six eyes on the coat’s arms have opened and no one has paid the change any mind at all.

His mind questions if it is only his eyes that are able to see the change. Bringing up his hand, Robin feels the skin heat over; a new eye in the Brand of the Defiled is working on joining the others in its opening.

He throws the sleeve back down, letting the cloth pile and stay in a heap on the ground. His nerves still clamoring, Robin walks out from the tent. The pitched camp is more lively than what he thought it’d be, given the hour.

He contemplates joining the Shepards who’ve gathered around the fire. The sound of grouped laughter and the sight of them sharing a cooked meal lightens his heart but he decides to step away from their line of sight before they notice his presence.

Robin lets his legs carry him to where they please and his thoughts trail onward. His thumb soothes over the surface of his branded palm, the pain tingling again in his hand. He then stops, seeing the soft glow from a ring of flowers that are just before his feet.

White with a yellow center, Robin comes down on one knee to pick one. As his fingers cradle the bloomed plant, it shrivels to his touch and wilts. His own voice whispers to him, “You are the Wings of Despair and will breathe Ruin into this land… Why do you resist, Robin?”

“Robin?”

Robin feels the presence drift out from his mind at the sound of someone calling his name. He feels the red tinged fade from his eyes and Grima’s presence is no longer a weight on his mind. A touch brushes against his face and strokes away the cold sweat on his cheek.

“Tiki?” Robin whispers, swallowing past the lump in his throat when he sees her face sharpen into focus. “I’m sorry. I was lost in my thoughts. Did you need something?”

“The others said you returned to the Divine Grounds,” she said. “I sometimes come here as well to think,” Tiki then smiled. “And I thought it sweet of you to visit my mother’s garden one more time before we leave at daybreak.”

Robin blinked at that and he studied the rows of grass and rings of flowers, ‘No wonder why he sought to destroy this place…’ “Tiki, I need to tell you something… I heard Grima’s voice a moment ago.”

Tiki blanched at him, “You heard the Fell Dragon…when you were…” She swallowed. “here?”

“He is becoming stronger,” said Robin. “To be able to affect me when I’m here. At a place of blessing for divine dragons,” He gave his own swallow. “I am scared. Not just for myself, but for all of you.”

“You’re choosing to be wise in the knowledge that any harm could befall us over being arrogant that nothing will,” Tiki said, her voice gentle in its understanding. She touched at his face again, making his eyes meet hers. “Your fears are well founded, but you will overcome Grima with my being with you.”

Robin lowered his head, but not quickly enough to see the smile fall from Tiki’s face. His fingers looped around her wrists and he gently took her hands from his own cheeks.

“My fear is what overcomes me,” said Robin. “If I were anyone else, I would commit to being with you,” He shook his head. “I am to be the Fell Dragon’s host and you are Naga’s one, and only, daughter.”

“You are a fool,” said Tiki, taking her hands and placing them around his. “You are a strategist of Ylisse. Your name is Robin and you’re my dear friend and someone who I like very much.” She then smiled. “If the fell dragon wants you, then I will show him what it means to incur the wrath of the Divine Dragon’s daughter.”

Robin smiled, despite himself, as he raised his eyes to look into Tiki’s. Inside, he could see the old fear that made her eyes appear wet from unshed tears, “I will not lose someone else I have come love.”

Behind her, the moon began to steadily sink over the horizon and it eclipsed her in a dull glow of light. The shadow that overtook her made her eyes and skin glow as she met and held his gaze with a firm resolve.

“For the one I love,” Robin placed his head to rest against hers. “I swear to not be lost.”

“See that you do not upset my daughter, High Deliverer,” Naga’s voice said firmly. “Or the Fell Dragon will be the least of your worries.”

They both looked at each other in concern and then laughed. Robin smiled while Tiki continued to giggle, her cheeks reddening by the second. Having the opportunity, Robin stooped, picking a flower from the grass. He brushed a strand of her hair away from her long ear and placed the chosen flower to rest and stay near her head. Tiki’s smile came in full as she looked at him, and it was a sight that he would remember, til the end of their days.

[tipsycad147]

Ways to Banish Negative Energy from your Body

By The Alchemist

A New Era has come to Magical Recipes Online. Day by day, hour by hour we grow stronger and we are able to give you the best Magical feedback possible. For this reason and for so many much more, we would like to give you our point of view for what we witches do when we ‘detect’ negative energy in our body. This article focuses on ways to banish negative energy which is trying to infiltrate our aura and body.

Before we proceed we need to make sure you already know how to ‘Shield your Aura’ in order to avoid all these negative repercussions. Moreover, it’s extremely important to learn how to ‘avoid absorbing negative energy‘.

Last be not least, if you are afraid that you might be affected by negative energy it would be good to ‘check signs of Curses‘ or if things are more difficult, ‘detect evil magic’ with this simple spell.

Banish Negative Energy from your Body

Let’s see one by one, simple yet effective ways to banish negativity from your body. Before we start we should warn you though that if you keep on ‘attracting’ negative energy with your thoughts and your actions, these ways will just temporarily cut you off the circle of pain and despair. Acknowledge the fact that you are a powerful Witch and your Will will be respected, whether this brings you to heavenly bliss or the edge of self-destruction!

1. The Sound of Fire

One of the best ways to banish negative energy is by invoking the divine energy of fire in you to cleanse and regulate your energy. The Sound of Fire is ‘Ram‘ and using Ram can benefit you in unpredictable ways! Ra(m) is associated with Lord Rama of Hinduism but interestingly it’s also the Name of the Superior God of the Sun – Ra!

Removing blocks, and burning away problems, evil spells, and evil spirits are also attitudes of Fire. Creating success, personal or not, too. In my opinion, Fire is the most flexible of the elements, as it rules creation and destruction.

TIP! IN TIMES OF NEED, JUST SHOUT OUT LOUD RA! THE NAME OF THE SOLAR GOD WILL ENERGISE YOUR BODY AND SHIELD YOUR AURA!

2. Just Clap your hands!

In the centre of your palms there are two powerful chakras. Sometimes these chakras are ‘closed’ or blocked as an instinctive defence mechanism to ‘isolate’ your ‘energy gates’ from negativity. By clappng your hands, you consciously activate these chakras and unblock your energy flow.

Moreover, according to Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCI) and Acupuncture, your palm is a microcosm of your whole body (just like your ear). By clapping your hands you actually ‘energise’ all your organs and meridians and energy flows in a better and more effective way. However, when you do clap your hands, make sure you visualise healing and protection.

3. Sing!

It’s well proven that singing and music affects your brain function while improving your overall health. While you sing, your aura vibrates in ‘higher’ frequencies and when you vibrate higher all parasites flee away. So whether you think you’ve got a nice voice or not. Sing! Just Sing!

4. Plan a walk to the Sea.

For those who are able to visit a sea coast this will replenish your energy. As you probably have already understood, we love Sea and Poseidon. But do you know that sea salt is actually the most powerful cleaner of negative energy. This is exactly why we showed you the 40 Waves Recipe.

Whatever the problem is, whether you suffer psychologically or physically, a walk near the sea, breathing the gentle yet rejuvenating breath of sea, can cleanse you from the inside. If its appropriate (weather, health condition etc) walk barefoot where the waves break.

5. Move it!

Keep in mind that when you exercise, move or dance, you give the breath of life to your body and aura. As a matter of fact, many benevolent hormones and chemical reactions result in extinguishing toxins and negative feeling. Moreover, your meridians are activated, helping the Chi run freely.  

6. Throw a ‘Priestess Ritual Bath’

Ritual bath is one of the most essential ways of cleansing your aura and replenishing your magic. It has been used by priests, priestesses and witches for millennia. Although it may differ in details, it usually consists of two parts. The Warm part and the Refreshing one. The first one intends to gently prepare yourself by opening your energy centres (chakras) and relaxing your aura, while the next one to rejuvenate and shield your aura.

Part one: Fill your tab with hot water (as hot as you like it).  Create a mixture of equal parts Lavender, Rosemary and Lemon peel and put them in a tea-ball.  This energy mixture intends to heal you from the inside. Throw a cup of Sea Salt in it and stir in the tub. The salt will help you cleanse your aura and ground your excessive energy while banishing all negativity and the influence of the dark arts. Have a relaxing bath.

Part two: Shower yourself with cool water (not cold if you can’t take it). Visualise that your aura is cleansed from all parasites and energy blocks.

https://www.magicalrecipesonline.com/2018/11/ways-to-banish-negative-energy-from-your-body.html

[thisislizheather]

January Jewels 2021

Wonderful, a new month! Even I’m not sure when I’m being sarcastic anymore. You know what I realized this month? This is technically year three of Covid-19 since it started in late 2019. Should I have kept that information to myself? Probably. I’m sorry. In any case, time moves on and we’re in a new month, so here’s what went down last month.

Before I begin, every January I make sure to:

Mark down all important holidays/birthdays/anniversaries (also Daylight Saving Times, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Thanksgiving) on my calendar

Check expiration dates for passport/license/health card/insurance/vet vaccinations and write down any important renewal dates

I recapped how my 2020 resolutions turned out. Spoiler alert: it’s not impressive.

I made my 2021 resolutions because I’m determined to live optimistically.

Here are some of my favourite photos from 2020.

I really want to make these A-Z foods that I’ve never made before throughout the year. Kind of really excited about this.

I’ve officially become obsessed with making end-of-the-year videos.

The new 2021 birthday gifts at Sephora have been announced! (Speaking of Sephora, have you seen the price point for Jennifer Lopez’s new line of products? Hahahahah, just wild.)

I read and reviewed Alek Trebek’s memoir, which was really good.

I made this carbonara from Bon Appetite and it BLEW! It was the first recipe that I made this year so I. was. PISSED.

I couldn’t find a Detroit style pizza place near my parent’s house (grow up, Mississauga) so I had no other choice but to get takeout from Descendant in Toronto and it was incredible.

Above Photo: The 8 x 10 “no name” from Descendant Pizza, Toronto

I listened to Taylor Swift’s evermore and the favourites are: champagne problems, tolerate it, and evermore.

I’ve been using my parent’s air fryer and, surprise surprise, it’s amazing. Obviously it makes everything taste great, but the best part is that it’s so much faster than a regular oven. The best thing I’ve made so far was definitely these pickles.

These are the greatest frozen french fries in Canada. Eat them. I promise. They’re lightly coated, but still thin and crispy.

I’d never even heard of The Devil’s Own which seems insane because two of the hottest nineties men are in it. Good movie? Not so much. I’d watch it again on mute though maybe.

If you’d like to momentarily be transported back to your childhood on Saturday mornings, get your ass over here for a second.

Speaking of the past, do you remember Heritage Minutes in Canada? God, some of them were really, really good. My favourite ones were the Laura Secord one, the Superman one, the Winnie one, and definitely the Marconi one.

I bought another bodysuit from Aritzia, but I mean look at this one. It’s heavenly. I can’t wait to wear it for Baby Dog on my way to the kitchen.

And I mean since I was already on the site, I also bought this honey/beige-coloured headband and matching mittens. I officially look adorable.

Still in love with the Dennis Gross peels, I just wish they weren’t so unreasonably priced.

I made this BA pasta with mushrooms and it was waaay too salty, what the hell is going on with me fucking up recipes these days?!

I tried this frozen vegan pizza and it was actually not terrible! Like, not as terrible tasting as regular frozen pizza.

Remember Grand & Toy (it was near Walter’s Music in Square One in the 90s)? I have to make a mental note to start using them instead of Staples. I loved that store for school supplies when I was a kid. Gotta support.

I’ve been watching the new Jeopardy! episodes with Ken Jennings and the first one was terrible in my opinion mainly because it just felt so wrong, but as I’ve kept watching I think it’s becoming less weird. I am excited to see the other guest hosts just to see how different they’ll each be.

I tried this drugstore John Frieda sea spray and it was complete crap. I may have overused it, but that’s really not my fault. Why in the hell don’t hair product labels tell you how many pumps you should use?! I swear to god, if only I were running things…

I made popovers for the first time and they were surprisingly easy! I might never buy a dinner roll ever again.

Above Photo: popovers!

I love the softness of these Indigo pajamas so much that I bought them twice (in both red & blue).

I heard the old Frank Sinatra song That’s Life on the radio the other day and got so teary, maybe ‘cause I haven’t heard it in years? Maybe ‘cause it’s just a perfect song? Am I slowly just losing it? While it was playing, I just kept saying to myself “That IS life!” Yeah, might have lost it.

I watched the newest season of Big Mouth and loved it. The anxiety mosquito might be the best new character introduced in the middle of a series OF ALL TIME. Such a great show.

I started watching Superstore (mostly in the background) and it’s pretty good! I’ve only seen a few episodes, but I definitely get the appeal.

I made these ganache-stuffed chocolate chip cookies and they were just lovely. Love a ganache, love that word.

Also made these salted tahini butter chocolate chip cookies (quite good!) because I’m going through a light depression, evidently.

My friend Dusty got his film Violation into Sundance and it’s wild that I know such immensely talented people. So, so proud of him.

I made blintzes with a Grand Marnier mascarpone (the blintz recipe is, of course, from Chef John and the mascarpone recipe is from one of Stanley Tucci’s cookbooks). It was delicious. It seems so intimidating to make crepes, but it was actually so easy and fun. Plus it looks like it’d be such a complicated thing to make, but I’d say it’s even easier than baking cookies.

Above Photo: Blintz with Grand Marnier mascarpone & wild blueberries in a cranberry coulis

I tried to read Ijeoma Oluo’s newest book Mediocre and I just couldn’t get into it. Even I was surprised because I love her work, so maybe I’ll give this one another try at a later date.

I had a real craving for a good bagel and since I’m not near Brooklyn Bagel in Astoria at the moment, I looked up the best place in this area for a bagel and went to the Old Bagel House on Lakeshore. And look, I respect what they’re doing, but they don’t hold a candle to New York bagels. Hard pass.

I’ve been using this tea tree night lotion from The Body Shop for years now, it really calms down your face before bed. Their entire tea tree collection is hard to beat.

I bought this jewelry stand and jewelry box both from Simons and they’re so divine.

Loving this makeup brush cleaner (especially the mini size for traveling). Expensive brush cleaners make zero sense to me.

I tried the Snoop Dogg wine and it was wine! (There’s not a spelling error or word missing there, it really was just wine.)

I made Creamy Cod & Potato Gratin and it was delicious, god I love tarragon.

Above Photo: Creamy Cod & Potato Gratin

I recently started eating frozen Canadian wild blueberries and they taste so blueberry. It’s madness. They’re so tiny and full of flavour, I couldn’t believe it. I’m so used to the blandness of blueberries from literally everywhere else. NO ONE TOLD ME ABOUT THESE!

I also tried sumo citrus oranges and yes they were good, but nowhere NEAR as good as cara cara oranges.

Right now, Scaddabush has a pretty sweet family deal of a lasagna, salad & focaccia for $40 and it easily feeds four people, with leftovers.

Best tweets of the month can be found over here.

Some things that I’m looking forward to this month: I will continue to watch and love all upcoming new Riverdale episodes (thank you season five for bringing this song back into my life), I might make these french onion stuffed shells because they sound insane, I’m excited to watch Stanley Tucci’s CNN cooking show Searching For Italy, I might fall into the world of focaccia bread art, I’d love to attempt ANY of these hairstyles, and I’m so excited to hear when the final season of Shrill will finally air.

If you’ve got any interest in reading last month’s roundup, you can see what went down in December over here.

[haillenarte]

dark knight quests, part i;

Here are translations from "Declaration of Blood,” the level 45 dark knight quest.

I meant to translate the DRK quests shortly after Heavensward’s launch, because the changes here are among the most extreme in the entire game, but honestly, I hate English Fray (Esteem) so much that I just kept putting it off. I can see why he appeals to certain people, but I just can’t stand him, so... he’s the reason this took so long.

It was also my intention to translate the entire Dark Knight questline, as I did for the lancer guild quests some time back (messily — I’ve half a mind to repost that because it’s so unpleasantly organized), but having to read English Fray’s lines is so painful that I cut my workload down to just the level 45 and 50 quests. This should be enough to give you a general idea of how different the JP and EN quests are, but if demand is high for it, maybe I’ll do the rest of the quests, too. Anyway, enjoy.

As a word of warning, these translations adhere very closely to the original text but are not entirely literal in several places. I could easily provide completely literal translations upon request, but in general I swapped things around to avoid the Japanese grammatical idiosyncrasies of phrases like “the you who X for Y and the me who Y for Z,” and so on and so forth. Additionally, there are several places where I would have liked to reword things for stylistic purposes, as I sometimes do, but here I chose to remain loyal to the text.

DECLARATION OF BLOOD 世界は仇なす "the world turns”

Literally "the world takes revenge," but I'm punning on "turn" as in "to turn on" and "to revolve"...

フレイ：また会えましたね。[PLAYER]。 前回の儀式で君に言ったこと、 あれから僕も、考え直してみたんです。 フレイ：君の護るべき「誰か」について、わかっていることは少ない。 これでは、ひとりのために他を切り捨てろなんて言われても、 腑に落ちるはずがありませんよね。 フレイ：だったら、やはり儀式を重ねて、 少しでも「声」��主について理解していくべきです。 フレイ：そして君が、何よりもそれを護りたいと思えたとき、 「誰か」と真に心が繋がり、正体が掴めるに違いありません。 ねえ、そうです、だから、諦めずに儀式を………… フレイ：…………っ。 すみません、最近少し、具合が悪くて……。 フレイ：でも大丈夫、ただの疲れです。 そんなことよりも、次なる儀式を行うために、 君の実力を見させてください。 フレイ：今回は、少し気分を変えましょうか。 低地ラノシアの「モラビー造船廠」で、お待ちしています……。

FRAY: So we meet again, [PLAYER]. I’ve spent some time thinking about what I told you during our last communion. FRAY: You know little of the people that you protect. Even when you cut down others for the sake of someone else*, you don’t fully comprehend the gravity of what you’re doing. FRAY: But if we continue performing these rites... eventually, you’ll come to understand the voice. FRAY: When you want to protect someone* more than anything else... you will connect with them so deeply that there will be no barriers between your heart and theirs. And... that is why... you must take your next communion... FRAY: ......Ugh... Forgive me. Lately, I... I haven’t been feeling well. FRAY: ...Don’t mind me. I’m just tired. More importantly... we ought to proceed with the next communion. For that, you’ll have to show me how you’ve progressed as a dark knight. FRAY: This time...Why don’t we change the mood up a little bit? I’ll be waiting for you at the Moraby Drydocks...

It’s been so long since I last did these quests that I don’t actually remember what Fray told you during your last communion. I’m guessing that it was something about how dark knights need to protect others, but that’s a wild stab in the dark.

* Note that he repeatedly uses the word “someone” in a way that is significant throughout the questline. I have done my best to preserve that particular quirk in this translation, but it sounds awkward at times because it’s a bit difficult to continually use the word “someone” given all the different contexts he uses it in.

LOCALIZATION Fray: ...I'm beginning to question your commitment, [PLAYER]. Fray: You haven't heard the voice since our last communion, which means you haven't taken my lessons to heart. Fray: You know I'm trying to help you, don't you? All of this is for YOUR benefit. Fray: You listen, but you don't understand — Fray: ...Never mind. Fray: You're the stubborn type. I know that. We'll just have to keep at it until you open your eyes. Fray: Moraby Drydocks. That's where we'll head next.

フレイ：[PLAYER]……。 君は、海を見て何を思い出しますか。 フレイ：誘っておいてなんですが、僕は海にいい印象がないんです。 前に話した、君に似た人との旅の最中、 恐ろしい体験をしたもので……。 フレイ：……あのころ、僕と彼はもうずいぶん遠くなっていて、 どんなに叫んでも、船に乗り込む彼を止められなかった。 船は僕らを乗せて、沖へ沖へと進んでいく……。 フレイ：まるで、自ら死ににいくようなものでした。 彼は、僕にとって唯一の護るべき人だったのに、 彼には、僕の言葉だけが届かなかった……だから僕は……

FRAY: [PLAYER]... What do you think of when you look at the ocean? FRAY: ...I realize I’m the one who invited you here, but the truth is, I don’t have any good memories of the sea. I mentioned this last time, but I once had a friend who was not unlike you... and I had a horrible experience with him here. FRAY: ...He pushed me away. No matter what I said, I couldn’t stop him from getting on that boat. And it took us so far, so far from shore... FRAY: We almost got ourselves killed. And even though he was the one person in the world I wanted to protect, he wouldn’t listen to me... But... even so, I...

LOCALIZATION Fray: ...Never much cared for the ocean, myself. Fray: That friend of mine─the one I told you about after our first communion. We came out here together, once. Fray: Long story short, we ended up doing something ridiculously foolish and were lucky to make it out alive. Fray: I tried to talk him out of it, but he just had to get on that damn boat...

？？？？：そこをどうにか、頼みますよォ～。 黒渦団は強いんでしょう？ 困ってる人を、助けてくれるんでしょう？ スティルンロナ甲曹長：で、ですからッ！ 黒渦団は、黒渦団の役目をもって、皆様に貢献しております。 盗まれた商品の奪還ならば、イエロージャケットに…… 強引な交易商人：ダメダメ、あいつらときたら、 忙しいとか言って、何でも後回しにするんです。 ほ～ら～、代わりにチョチョイとやってくださいよォ！ スティルンロナ甲曹長：あ、あなたは！ [PLAYER]様ではありませんか！

????: Please, I’m begging you! Aren’t Maelstrom officers supposed to be strong? Aren’t they supposed to help people in need?! STYRNLONA: Y-Yes, but the Maelstrom services Limsa’s needs in the collective. Matters such as stolen goods fall under the jurisdiction of the Yellowjackets... OVERBEARING MERCHANT: I already went to them! They said they were too busy — that my situation would have to wait! Come on now, have mercy — it’d be easy for someone like you! STYRNLONA: Wait — isn’t that [PLAYER]?

LOCALIZATION ???: Don't be like that, friend! Isn't the Maelstrom supposed to aid the smallfolk when they're in a spot of trouble? Styrnlona: So far as it is possible, yes, but...such matters fall within the purview of the Yellowjackets, and─ Merchant: And they told me to bugger off─can you believe that!? I'm begging you, Sergeant! Styrnlona: I... Wait. Is that you, [PLAYER]?

スティルンロナ甲曹長：蛮神「リヴァイアサン」討伐の件では、 大変お世話になりましたッ！ あなたの勇敢な戦いに、どれほどの民が救われたことか……。 強引な交易商人：ヒョエエ～～！？ もしかして、こちらさん、 蛮神殺しって噂の冒険者さんですかい！？ 強引な交易商人：こりゃあ、天の助け！ ねえ英雄さん、ワタクシ、すごく困ってるんですよォ。 強引な交易商人：というのも、こっすいキキルン族に、 商品を根こそぎ盗まれましてね？ このままじゃ、明日から路頭に迷うしか……ヨヨヨ……。 フレイ：……[PLAYER]。 この前僕が言ったこと、忘れてませんよね。 大事な目的があるのだから、余計な人助けはよせ、と。 フレイ：放っておいても、イエロージャケットなりが解決する件です。 それよりも君は、儀式をするために強敵を倒し…… 強引な交易商人：英雄さん、見捨てないでくださいよォ！ み～んなにタライ回されて、あたしか頼れないんですって！

STYRNLONA: Why, it is! Thank you for your service to Limsa Lominsa. I shudder to think of how many brave souls we might have lost if not for your triumphant victory over Leviathan... OVERBEARING MERCHANT: What?! Really?! This is the adventurer that goes around killing primals? OVERBEARING MERCHANT: Well, if this isn’t divine intervention! Come on, now, hero, hear me out! Listen, I’m in a real bind. OVERBEARING MERCHANT: Some filthy Qiqirn stole my wares, and if I don’t get them back soon, I’ll be forced to sleep in the streets! FRAY: ...[PLAYER]. You haven’t forgotten what I told you, have you? We’re here to perform our communion. We don’t need to get involved in this. FRAY: You don���t have to be the one to do this. The Yellowjackets will settle it eventually. We need to find worthy opponents for our ceremony...  OVERBEARING MERCHANT: Please, hero! Help me in my time of need! The Maelstrom and the Yellowjackets keep turning me away! You’re the only one that can save me!

LOCALIZATION Styrnlona: It is! The legend himself! Forgive me, sir, I never thanked you properly for your service to Limsa Lominsa. When I first heard Leviathan had been summoned, I feared that─ Merchant: Why, if it isn't that famous adventurer who's been killing primals left and right! Merchant: Truly, the Twelve must be watching over me, because you're just the man I need! Merchant: <sniffle> <sob> I...I am the victim of a terrible─nay, heinous crime! I was waylaid by Qiqirn bandits near the Salt Strand, who left me with naught more than the clothes on my back! Fray: ...And what makes you think I give a Qiqirn's arse about your troubles? Go and bother the Yellowjackets, like the sergeant said. Fray: I seek worthy prey, not a gang of rats. Merchant: How can you say such a thing, ser!? Without your help, I'm ruined!

→商品を取り返しに行く？ Will you reclaim his goods? What will you say?

→ ……わかった 強引な交易商人：ヒャアア～、それでこその英雄さんだ！ ヨッ！　いい男！ 強引な交易商人：ワタクシの荷物を盗んだキキルン族は、 ここいらの野盗キキルンどもの元締めみやいな奴でして、 そりゃあもう、手強いって噂です。

→ I understand. OVERBEARING MERCHANT: There, see! Now that’s a hero for you! You’re a good man, sir, a great man! OVERBEARING MERCHANT: So, about those Qiqirn bandits... I’ve heard rumors that their leader is fairly dangerous, but...

LOCALIZATION ► Fine, I'll help. Merchant: Spoken like a true hero! Merchant: So you know, the rank and file didn't seem so dangerous, but their leader was a mean-looking bastard... Merchant: But considering the foes you've faced in the past, he couldn't possibly pose a threat to you!

→ それはできない 強引な交易商人：まァまァ、つれないことをおっしゃらず。 今、そっちの覆面さんが、「強敵と戦いたい」ってなことを、 おっしゃいませんでしたか？ 強引な交易商人：幸いにも、ワタクシの荷物を盗んだキキルン族は、 ここいらの野盗キキルンどもの元締めみやいな奴でして、 そりゃあもう、手強いって噂されてるんですよォ！

→ I can’t help you. OVERBEARING MERCHANT: Now, sir, don’t say such heartless things! I’ve a proposal for you — your masked friend just said you were seeking worthy opponents, yes? OVERBEARING MERCHANT: Well, fortunately for you, the leader of that pack of rats is pretty tough! 

LOCALIZATION ► Not my problem. Merchant: W-Wait, just listen! You said you wanted worthy prey, yes!? Merchant: Their leader was a mean-looking bastard, at least two or three times the size of the others. It'd probably take a dozen men to bring him down!

強引な交易商人：奴らの根城は、南西の「ソルトストランド」！ いっちょ乗り込んで、キキルン族をなぎ倒し、 哀れな商人の荷物を取り戻してくださいませェ～！ フレイ：……こんなの、「暗黒騎士」の役目でもなんでもないよ。 僕も行くから、とっとと片付けましょう。

OVERBEARING MERCHANT: Those flea-ridden rats made camp at the Salt Strand. Please, help a poor merchant out! Get my wares back for me! FRAY: ...This has nothing to do with the dark knight’s oath. But if you must, I’ll go with you. We’ll clean this mess up quick.

LOCALIZATION Merchant: If it's a challenge you want, then there it is! Just you against him and his cronies! What say you, ser? Fray: Shut your mouth and wait here. I'll be back.

フレイ：この先が、キキルン族の根城です。 盗まれた商品も、そこにあるでしょう……。 フレイ：せめて、この戦いで、君の実力を見させてもらいます。 そうでもなければ、本当に君が戦う意味がない……。

FRAY: There’s the Qiqirn camp. The stolen goods are there, too. FRAY: Well, at least I’ll be able to see how your skills are coming along. Otherwise, there’d really be no point in doing this...

LOCALIZATION Fray: If this Qiqirn isn't everything he promised, I'll take it out of his hide... Fray: Let's make the most of this, [PLAYER]. No style, no guile, just chaos. Mark your limits, then push yourself beyond. Let the darkness guide you and set you free.

影身のフレイ：かなりの多勢ですね……。 盗人キキルンを倒してから、荷物を取り返しましょう……。 影身のフレイ：お見事です、あとは商品の回収だけだ。 [PLAYER]、お願いできますか……？ 影身のフレイ：その木箱に、商品が入っているようですね。 よし……これでどうにか………………ウッ……。

FRAY: There’s so many of them... Let’s clear them out and reclaim the stolen goods... FRAY: Well done. Now for the goods. [PLAYER], will you...? FRAY: They should be in that box. Yes... this will... <groan>

LOCALIZATION Fray: Weak...but plentiful. They may yet suffice... Fray: Heh...heh... Tenacious bastards... Right, then. The goods. Fray: Good. There's nothing left here for...for...

フレイ：ハァ……ハァ……ッ……。 商品は、取り返すことができましたね……。 君は、それを、あの商人に…………。 フレイ：僕は……すみません……疲れがまた…………。 あとから追っていきますから、先に戻っていてください……。 フレイ：ああ……エーテルが底をつく……。 このままじゃ……もう…………。

FRAY: Huff... huff... Well, the merchant’s wares are unharmed... Go on... take them to him. FRAY: Sorry... I’m... a bit... tired... Go back... without me... I’ll catch up... FRAY: Aah... my aether’s running dry... At this rate... I...

LOCALIZATION Fray: Heh...heh... You did well... Fray: All that's left...is to return the goods to their owner... Fray: ...Finish it... Finish what we started... Fray: The hard part is over... Now finish it...

強引な交易商人：おお、お待ちしておりましたよォ！ ワタクシの商品は！？ もちろん無事に取り返せましたよね！？ 強引な交易商人：これは確かに、キキルン族に盗まれたワタクシの商品！ ありがたや、ありがたや……！ さっそく、中身がそろっているか確認いたしますねェ！ 強引な交易商人：ハァ……。 こりゃ、ダメダメですなァ……。 強引な交易商人：箱の中身はそろっちゃいますが、 キキルンどもが汚い手で引っ掻き回したせいで、 どいつもこいつも、売り物になんてなりませんよォ……。 強引な交易商人：はてさて、困った……。 命の次に大事な商品がおじゃんとなった今、 ワタクシはどうして生きれば…………ハッ！ 強引な交易商人：そうだ、そうですよォ、英雄さん！ あなたなら、代わりに売れそうなもののひとつくらい、 ササッと用意できるんじゃないですか？ 強引な交易商人：猛獣の肉でも、遺跡に残された骨董品でもいい。 あっ、蛮神の一部なんてのはどうです！？ ワタクシ、こう見えて多様なお客を抱えておりまして……

OVERBEARING MERCHANT: Ah, I’ve been waiting for you! So, my wares? Did you take them back for me? OVERBEARING MERCHANT: Yes! These are the goods those ugly rats stole from me! Thank you, thank you! Now, let me just take a good look at them... OVERBEARING MERCHANT: ...Hmm... No, this won’t do at all... OVERBEARING MERCHANT: Everything is in one piece, yes, but... those worthless Qiqirn got their filthy little paws all over everything! I can’t possibly sell them like this! OVERBEARING MERCHANT: This is terrible! My wares are second only in importance to my life! How can I possibly go on living like this? I might as well be dead right now! Oh, I bemoan my fate! OVERBEARING MERCHANT: ...Wait, of course. Hero! Why not give me something of yours so that I can sell it in place of these soiled wares? OVERBEARING MERCHANT: What do you have on your person, hm? The meat of some fearsome creature, mayhap? Antique relics stolen from ancient ruins? Perhaps even... primal parts? Oh, I’d draw in so many customers with something rare like that...

LOCALIZATION Merchant: Ah, it's you! Were you able to catch up with those bandits? Merchant: Er, yes...that seems to be mine, but... Merchant: ...Llymlaen take me, I can't sell this! Merchant: Everything's soaked through with Qiqirn blood! What did you do─carve one open and leave him to bleed all over my wares!? Merchant: I'm ruined...utterly ruined. Merchant: Madam, I demand recompense for your reckless destruction of my property! Merchant: I am a reasonable man, so I will acknowledge that you are not wholly responsible. Fifty percent of the value should suffice.

フレイ：ふざけるなッ！！！！ フレイ：英雄、英雄って、都合よく肩書きで呼ぶな！ [PLAYER]だって人だ…… 戦えば傷つくし、傷がつけば痛いんだ。 フレイ：痛くて、苦しくて、嫌な思いだっていっぱいして、 それでもお前たちが頼るから、戦ってるんだよッ！ フレイ：今回だけじゃない…… あのときだって、そうだった。 大海嘯を操る蛮神を相手に、孤独な船上で戦わされたんだ！ フレイ：お前らはッ……お前らは、僕らを置いてどこへ行った！？ 選ばれた者しか戦えないって言葉を盾に、 どれだけ僕らを犠牲にしたッ！？ フレイ：お前らが、[PLAYER]を奪っていくんだ……。 だからいつまでも、彼は答えに辿りつけ��い。 本当の「暗黒騎士」になることができないんだ……ッ！

FRAY: Don’t you dare! FRAY: You dare call him “hero” one more time, wretch, and your tongue is mine! Don’t you understand [PLAYER] is just a man like you?! He has feelings! He has wounds of his own! He risked his life for you! FRAY: Did you think it was easy? It was difficult! It was painful! But because you asked, he went and fought for you! FRAY: It’s not just people like you... It’s everyone that made him get on that godsforsaken ship with that godsforsaken primal... FRAY: Where were you when we were fighting?! Hiding behind your words and your spinelessness, is that right? Pretending only the chosen one can fight for you? Do you even understand how much we’ve sacrificed? FRAY: You’re the ones who stole him from me... you’re the reason he can’t become a dark knight...!

LOCALIZATION Fray: Fifty percent? FIFTY PERCENT!? Fray: I slaughter a gang of Qiqirn bandits for your precious goods and this is the thanks I receive!? Fray: You spineless sack of shite. I kill your enemies. I fetch your things. I do what you people can't or won't do yourselves. Fray: You're helpless. Weak. All you do is want and need. Fray: I should've left you all to drown in Leviathan's tidal wave. At least then I would've been spared your constant bloody whining. Fray: Do not speak to me of this ever again.

強引な交易商人：ヒェェ、おっかない……！ 何が何だかわかりませんが、あんなに怒らなくたってェ！ スティルンロナ甲曹長：あの方、船上で蛮神と戦ったと言っていましたが…… もしや、あなたとおもに蛮神「リヴァイアサン」を退けた、 お仲間だったのでしょうか？ スティルンロナ甲曹長：だとしたら、気付かずに失礼いたしました。 蛮神を討つお役目、どれほど重責であったことでしょう……。

OVERBEARING MERCHANT: F-Forgive me, ser! I — I don’t entirely understand your rage, ser, but I want no part of it! STYRNLONA: That man... he spoke of boats and primals. Is he one of your friends from the fight against Leviathan? STYRNLONA: If so, I am sorry I did not give him my regards. I simply didn’t notice who he was. But he too bore the weight of the world on his shoulders in that battle...

LOCALIZATION Merchant: P-Pray forgive me my insolence, sir! Styrnlona: [PLAYER], sir, I... You have every right to be upset, but... Styrnlona: ...I think he understands, sir.

フレイ：ごめん、[PLAYER]……。 取り乱して、つい余計なことを言った。 フレイ：そうでなくとも、「暗黒騎士」の指導者らしいことは、 どんどんできなくなってきてるって、わかっています。 疑いますよね、僕のこと……。

FRAY: ...I’m sorry, [PLAYER]. I said too much. FRAY: I was only meant to be your mentor in the ways of the dark knight, but... It must be getting more and more difficult for you to trust me.

LOCALIZATION Fray: We can't keep doing this, [PLAYER]. You must see now what it's doing to us... What they're doing to us...These...these people...

→ 何と声をかける？ What will you say?

→ あの声の主は、本当に存在するのか？ フレイ：存在するよ……。 今だって、君が見つけてくれるのを待っているんです。 ……お願いだから、いないなんて、言わないで。 フレイ：でも、僕が嘘をついていたのも本当だ。 ……僕は、「声」の主が誰であるか知っています。 ただし、その答えを僕から教えることはできないんだ。 フレイ： 君自身が、あの「声」の主を…… 君にとっての最も「弱き者」を見つけなければ意味がない。 だから、ねえ……もう一度、儀式を…………。

→ The voice... does it truly exist? FRAY: It does. Even now, it waits for you to hear it. ...So, please... don’t say that you don’t believe in it. FRAY: ...I lied to you about one thing. I know who the voice belongs to. But I can’t tell you any more than that. FRAY: You won’t be able to hear the voice until you find the one person that you truly need to protect... So, please... Could we try the communion one more time...?

LOCALIZATION ► Never mind them. The voice is all that matters. Fray: Yes...yes, you are right. You must hearken to its words and discover your true calling. Fray: You are close, ─so very, very close... Fray: I wish I could tell you. I wish I could make you see. Fray: But all I can do is guide you on your journey...

→ 本当の暗黒騎士になれない？ フレイ：……君は、確かに「暗黒騎士」だ。 その身にまとった「暗黒」の力も、 鍛錬で身に着けてきた技も、偽物なんかじゃない……。 フレイ：でも、皇都で娘さんを助けにいくとき、 僕が語った「暗黒騎士の最初の課題」を覚えていますか？ フレイ：君はまだ、その課題を乗り越えていないんだ……。 僕が、君に「暗黒」の力を授けられる理由だって、 紐解けちゃいないでしょう……？ フレイ：すべては、あの「声」の主にたどり着けたらわかることです。 だから、ねえ……もう一度、儀式を…………。

→ Am I really able to become a dark knight? FRAY: ...You’re already a dark knight. At the very least, you fight with the power of darkness. That much is real.  FRAY: But do you remember what I told you when we saved that woman in Ishgard? The first oath of the dark knight? FRAY: ...You still haven’t overcome that first challenge. You still don’t understand the reason I’ve given you these powers. FRAY: Everything would become clear if only you could hear the voice...  So, please... Could we try the communion one more time...?

LOCALIZATION ► We don't need them to become a dark knight. Fray: Not entirely true, [PLAYER]. They have helped you to cultivate the darkness within, in a way. But their help is no longer needed. Fray: All that remains is to hearken to the voice─to grasp its words and discover your true calling. Fray: I wish I could tell you. I wish I could make you see. Fray: But all I can do is guide you on your journey...

→  怒ってくれて、ありがとう！ フレイ：…………っ！ あ、あたりまえじゃないですか……！ あんなの怒ります……今までだって、怒ってました……！ フレイ：僕に感謝を言うくらいなら、君が怒ればよかったんです。 そんなに誰にでも優しいから、 あの「声」の主だって、すねて出てこないんじゃないですか！？ フレイ：本当に、もう……君って人は…………。 「暗黒騎士」に向いているんだか、いないんだか……。 フレイ：……でも、そんな君だからこそ「声」の主を見つけてほしいんだ。 大事なことは何ひとつ明かせない、不誠実な僕ですが、 この気持ちだけは真実なんです……だから、儀式を…………。

→ Thank you for being angry on my behalf. FRAY: ......! That... that was just a normal reaction. Of course I was angry. Even now, I’m still angry at that man...! FRAY: Instead of thanking me, you ought to be angry on your own behalf. It’s because you’re too kind that you can’t hear the voice! FRAY: Gods... How is someone like you supposed to become a dark knight...? FRAY: ...But it’s exactly because you’re so kind that I want you to hear the voice. I might seem like a dishonest person because I can’t tell you any more than that, but... I promise you, that is the truth. So, please... the communion, if you would...

LOCALIZATION ► He deserved it. Every word. Fray: Hah...hahaha! Right you are, [PLAYER]! Right you are! Fray: Felt good, didn't it? Seeing that sniveling wretch tremble. I think he nearly pissed himself! Fray: You're finally starting to see them for what they are now, aren't you? Good, good. Fray: All that remains is to hearken to the voice─to grasp its words and discover your true calling...

？？？？：…………声が聞こえる。 誰かが助けを求める声だ……。 なんて……やかましいんだろう………。 ？？？？：彼らの声に、自分の声はかき消されてしまう……。 この痛みを……怒りを……悲しみを…… どうやったら伝えられる……？ ？？？？：…………ああ、そうだ。 自分の声でだめなら、他人の声を使えばいい……。 その声も届かないなら、同じ痛みをもって、伝えればいい……。 ？？？？：そうでしょう……？ 待っていて………………

????: ...I hear voices. I hear voices calling for help... They’re so loud... ????: Their voices drown mine out... My pain... my anger... my sadness... How can I convey them to you...? ????: ...Ah, of course. If this voice won’t work, then I just need someone else’s... And if that voice doesn’t work, then I’ll give you my pain... ????: Isn’t that right...? Wait for me...

LOCALIZATION ???: A chorus of voices cries out for a hero, and he comes. ???: He smiles. He nods. And he remains silent... ???: But he too has a voice... ???: I will be heard...

フレイ：ねえ…… [PLAYER NAME]…………。 フレイ：……「声」は聞こえたみたいですね。 フレイ：君が何を聞き、何を思ったかは、あえて問いません。 ただ、今度こそ、護るべき「誰か」のために、 すべてを捨てる覚悟ができたなら…… フレイ：英雄として築いた地位や名声、居場所を捨てても、 それを護りたいと思えたならば、 僕と一緒に、このエオルゼアを出てください。 フレイ：この地では、君はたったひとりを護る存在にはなれない。 離れてこそ……本当の「暗黒騎士」としての物語がはじまるんだ。 フレイ：……君を、いつもの場所で待っています。 ただ、僕にはあまり時間がないらしい……。 遠くない再会を願っていますよ。

FRAY: Now, wake... [PLAYER NAME]... FRAY: ...So, you finally heard the voice. FRAY: I will not ask you what you heard, or how you feel, or what you think.  But if you are prepared to throw it all away to protect only one person... FRAY: If you are prepared to discard your reputation and your name as a hero... prepared to leave everything behind... then leave Eorzea with me. FRAY: It’s impossible for you to swear yourself to only one person in a place like this. You won’t be able to become a dark knight unless you leave... FRAY: ...I’ll be waiting for you at our usual place. I... don’t have much time left... ...I hope we can reconvene soon.

LOCALIZATION Fray: ... Fray: ...You stand at the precipice, but do not fear the fall. Fray: Cast yourself into the abyss, and you shall soar above, free at last. Fray: There are other lands than these, ─lands where we are not known. Ask, and we shall quit this place forever. Fray: Only when you have renounced everything are you free to do anything. When we meet again, you will give us your answer.

[genwareligion-blog]

The Mortality of the Gods

Occeair was bored one evening sailing on the shore of the seventh sea. Writing down poetry he called upon the serpent Anli to have a conversation. They talked of many things. One of which was the duality and mortality of the gods. This displeased Occeair. He didn't like to think of things of that nature. He asked the serpent what it's thoughts were on life. The serpent laughed at the question taunting Occeair of the gods mortality. The gods lived long lives. But they were not infallible. They could die. They could be harmed. They could be killed. They are only immortal as long as nobody interferes. This thought paced Occeair’s brain as the crushing weight of what the serpent Anli had told him panicked the boy. He sat down holding his chest. “you know” the serpent hissed. “they say” he paused. “that there's a recipe for immortality.” Anli slithered into Occeairs boat. “I could help you find it”. A tear paced Occeairs cheek. “you could?” “yes” assured the serpent. “I'll take you up on that”. He smiled a wide toothed grin. “can I trust you?” asked the god. “quite” the serpent smiled. Then the serpent laid out instructions for the recipe of immortality. They would gather the tears of the void, the heart of the earth, and the dust of the sun. They would brew this mixture in a fire created from the anger of Coa the thunder god.  This essence would sprout a plant and all who ate from it would live an never-ending life. Occeair wasn't sure about the creation of this mixture so he asked why the ingredients were all divine. Quick with his words golden in voice the serpent responded that the essence needed to be of divine nature for immortality was a divine creation. Satisfied, Occeair adjusted his mass and began to sail his boat into the sky. He sailed into the sun and greeted him and the moon. They greeted him with open arms and asked what they could do for him. Occeair responded with the serpent's request. Uneasy the sun responded that he would do this for him but in exchange he must find 3 of the oceans cattle and bring it back to him. Occeair agreed and went off to the 4th sea. He took fire and whipped the cattle onto the mass of the ship. He flew back up to the sun. The sun was displeased. He had brought four cattle instead of the three requested. He sent the fourth away with Occeair on his journey. The sun then took his long hair and a towel. He rang the towel through his hair brushing off crust. He handed it to Occeair. Occeair showed his gratitude with a bow, and took off. The moon asked before he left to be included in the concoction so that her and the sun might always shine in the sky. Occeair agreed and went back into the sea. Occeair sat in his boat trying to figure out how to reach the sky. When an idea hit him like a flash. He would sail to the outskirts of stars and greet Drena the mother void. Occeair sailed off, and finally reached the stars. There he talked to the sky as she guarded earth. “I would like for you to cry” spoke Occeair. “I cannot do this for you” Replied the void. “Why not?” asked Occeair. “Because I can't do such things on a whim” replied the void. So Occeair in a fit of desperation and impulsivity took out his trusty flaming whip and gift from Koga which he used to tie her fingers to the back of her wrist. Out of her pain tears began to pour and Occeair caught them in a vile. The sky then grew angry and demanded Occeair release her from her pain. However when Occeair tried the whip became stuck on her finger nail. She screamed and pleaded with Occeair to solve the problem.  Occeair was able to go down to Jikau and steal a branch from one of the trees there. Using it’s bark he was able to put a small barrier between her nail and that of the whip. It lasted for some time before snapping and hitting her eyes. Her vision grew clouds and she became furious. Having done this with a clear conscious Occeair ran away to retrieve the fire from Koga. He went down to Jikau bashing his way among the guards until Koga greeted him. Koga having only met his sibling twice before, once at birth and second at a funeral asked what of his presence there. Occeair explained his scenario. Koga became angry at the notion of the serpent giving out this information and fires begun to assimilate. With a sly grin, Occeair quickly captured the fire’s in a vile and ran back to his boat. Having all the ingredients. Occeair went to the stars and there he invited the sun, the sky, the moon, Koga, the earth, and Lise for a show.  “Why have you called us here?” Asked the angry Drena. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble Occeair?” Then Occeair took out a drum with no cover and poured all the ingredients together within it. He added a lid and banged on it four times and out came a golden fluid. The serpent then explained that if put in the ground four trees would grow and bear fruit that if frequently consumed would grant immortal life every 1000 years. One of the trees would cause invisibility. One would heal. One would cause eternal youth and beauty. The last one would grant immortal life. Now pleased with Occeair the gods argued over where to plant such trees. Each god wanting the tree within their own kingdom. Ahue settled the dispute. He never asked for for the tree and mandated order. The gods agreed and by Ahues degree settled on Jikau for it was near the earth’s core and thus the most vibrant for planting. Yena who was one with the earth could also attend to it there for Jikau was close to her heart. Occeair with the serpent then went down to the underworld to plant the mixture. However at the last moment the serpent Anli tried to take it for himself. He quickly grabbed the drum and bit into it trying to consume the mixture. Occeair strangled him until he let go giving Koga his spine. After Occeair stopped him he was only able to keep half of the mixture untainted from the serpent's venom. Instead of four trees only 3 were able to be created.  Devastated at the loss of the trees but satisfied with the one bearing fruit, the god Koga put up 7 regular trees to guard the underworld so that the tree of life and his kingdom which guarded it may not be disturbed by outsiders. After this Anli the Serpent was sentenced to a sea of salt where he may never interfere again. To this day the gods still eat the fruit from the tree of life.

[thesweetblossoms]

The Palm Trees Pretending To Be Stars

🌴🌴🌴If you make someone else feel good you make yourself feel good as well. This is a very important lesson, I hope to share with my children. One of human natures intractable flaws is that unfortunately, we often feel better when we realize the misfortune of others. The premise of gratitude is thankfulness for what we have often in comparison to what others lack. Yet, at the same instance, it is a design of reality that no person has everything that could possibly be desired; one cannot find the unequivocal solace of home, while also intoxicated with the maddening delight of travel, or, it is generally rare to be both very young and financially successful, or both a cosmonaut as well as a Oscar winning musician, or to be able to sit comfortably in a commercial plane while also possessing model tall measurements. Thus while I try to separate the knowledge of my abundance and immense privileges from the fact that it is a standard measured at the misfortune of others, I find it easier to attempt to share the happinesses, charms or graces that have been bestowed to me by chance, hard-work or determination. It is a suspiciously easy act to smile and acknowledge another persons presence, offering a smile, a light comment, or even the pleasant companionship of silence. When we interact with people, creating a cloud of contentment, peace or comfort, may benefit the outcomes of the unfolding stories that occur past the encounter. The interaction might highlight positive emotions, hopes, ideas or goals. A conversation itself could be a form of therapy: soporific, analgesic and healing. The magical element, is sometimes, not knowing for sure, who is the healer and who is the wounded.

The Language of Sweet Alyssum

There is an art of reading the subtle, wordless, language of energy and movement, it is a nuanced dialect, with characteristics ranging in stillness, breath, gestures, gait, flow, habits and other physical exchanges with the natural world. I notice the quiet conversations of blossoms in the garden; the way the marigolds teeter over the edge of the balcony in a reckless drive to cavort with solar illumination, or how the gentle natured and fragile sweet alyssum stubbornly survives another year in its black widow fabric grow pot, whereas the more enthusiastic and vivacious Maria Callas roses fail to make another appearance in time, or how the soaring palm trees tightly wrapped in fairy lights during Christmas seem proud of being ornamented as such, briefly pretending to be stars, or how the dramatically swooning peace lilies leaves perk up immediately after a sip of water, or how my betta fish, Rufus, rudely turns his back on my fish flakes after I’ve left him for a few days.

The Bengal Tigers

My grandfather hunted tigers and now there are only 400 tiggers left in the Sundarbans. Often people in the moment are ridiculously unaware of the tremendous cost of their actions. Thus I remind my self that the future may audit the choice I make, the work I accomplish, the policies I encourage, the ideas I disseminate and the reality I manipulate. We must savor the last Bengal tigers roaming our earth, and bow our heads in shame at the fallacy of mankind. Yet, we mustn’t repeat the mistakes of our ancestors and attempt to preserve the diverse, magnificent and awe inspiring creatures that share our earth during our time.

Lilies At The Office

There were oriental lilies in the office, a few weeks ago. Somebody has placed the burgeoning, scarlet tipped, freckled lilies in the break room, as if they were a plate of cookie or the breakfast bagels one of the senior attorneys brings in for the firm. Though we couldn’t nibble on these, or use them as an excuse to take a break from our billing to snack, chat and commiserate, they deepened the brief reprieves from our matters, allowing us to realize that there is another language beyond words, analysis and writing, of the enthralling loveliness inherent in the delicate and ethereal botanical parallel, outside our freezing, artificially lit offices. Being in the company of flowers is a healing balm, we should uncompromising rise up from our desks to encounter the unfolding, whispering and mesmerizing petals. No matter our professions, we conspire with other sentient beings, especially those who unfailingly provide, solace, understanding, graciousness, peace and allows us to travel past gossamer veiled realms as we match our breaths to theirs.

Memoirs

To recognize the significance of an events occurrence, as its happening, is harder to do without the necessary element of time. Yet by reading other individuals experiences in memoirs or diaries we may recognize common foibles, or seemingly random yet actually repeated patterns, or gain insights into human behavior that provide the benefit of hindsight in the present. Thus, I reliably reach for a memoir when I have a chance to read, whether it is about itinerant and exhausting travels in Africa, or tiny rooftop gardens in the city, or of artistic minds, surmounting the walls that attempt to obscure true discovery and expression.

Magical Notes

The world of magic offers us a window to escape the unrelenting mundanity of being, it is a space devoted to fancies, madness, whimsy, charm, imaginations and emotions. On some fraught, heavy, dark hours, I cast spells to heal my troubled heart, as often, at the peak of distress, the natural and mysterious magical realms offer solace. A random spell, joined with prayer, meditation, yoga, or bathing in the moonlight, eases sadness, with its potent, mesmerizing, entrancing, distracting and ephemeral power.

My magical arsenal includes the common, simple yet exquisite. I rarely need to fetch anything esoteric or scarce, the ingredients, often comprising of elements that linger in nature, that poetically, magnetically, intrinsically and tangibly find themselves near me, dwelling upon pallet wood coffee tables , or on French café wood bed side tables, or on much scratched and paint splattered blond wood stools, upon surfaces that, the objects I find, or those that find me, are laid to rest in my environment.

I use candles for fire, to represent light, the stars.

I pick up bird feathers to swirl the air, and to manifest lightness, the ability to float, or to escape.

I light Palo Santo wood smoke to perfume, twist and turn reality and to change its course.

I use my tears to add a life force to my incantations.

I use garden blossoms, generally fragrant white blossoms, such as rose petals, jasmine, orange blossoms, tuberose or magnolia to extract the inexplicable ability to love, inherent in all sentient creatures.

I use seashells to pummel depths, to symbolism earthly forms, to fuse the power of the seas and the moon.

I use silver, copper, gold, cotton, ceramics, pink salt to fasten the earth.

I do not like to use blood, unless I am already cut and in dire need of a healing spell.

The Art of Writing

Darling readers, when feeling intense emotions, sad, happy, peaceful, distressed, or even angry, use the energy within you to work with the twenty six letters of your instrument, use the time to craft music, using the black and white keyboard to compose your symphony. For what we share, in written form, leaves clues about out our time to the future and the future responds in kind.

Often, when I write I have a inkling that I must conceal my secrets, that I mustn’t disclose my tricks, or show my hand, yet, I immediately realize how futile it is to hide any discovery, idea, method, theory or thought, for writing it down, is the surest way to receive more ideas, or to come up with more solutions, for writing is a channel for understanding our consciousness, the universe and reality. I am certain, that thinking only accelerates the pace of new, innovative and good ideas. When we decide to share our knowledge, to display our wisdom or to generously dissipate answers, we enhance our ability to divine these, providing a fertile terrain for them to germinate in our mind, percolate through our hearts, before blossoming on paper, or, staining the electronic tablet, typed, by our open hands.

Forget Me Not Blue

The reality unfolding before us would be heavenly, if every new sentence we wrote were more beautiful than the previous, and if every new moment were more breathtaking than the past, where, our pains would follow a reverse correlation and our tears would be outnumbered by our joys. This morning at work, around 7 am, I stole away to our attorneys outdoor seating area, bordered with oleanders, lantana, pink grasses and bougainvillea to witness the painfully gorgeous and emotionally rendered desert winter sunrise, I saw the particular drama of the rising sun, over inky, low mountains and merry clusters of date palms and palos verdes trees, finding it, a far more symphonic revelation; distinct, brilliant and enthralling in its own lighter, early morning way than the haunting, night beckoning and

cathartic sunsets. Against a faintly lit forget me not blue background, high, debutante clouds of feathery pink, shy peach, anklet silver, English mist gray, divorcee lavender and edged with absconding navy borders, lingered, the vivaciously, tantalizingly, exuberantly and expectantly, bejeweled clouds, organic, attenuating forms, seemingly saluting a never to be repeated, sui generis day. Later, returning home early, due to an elementary school early release, exhausted and stripped of vitality, I took a nap, only to wake up with that strange, melancholy, despairing, teary mood that befalls, in the half way space following, a brief, yet deep sleep that begins in the afternoon and commences when it is already dark. To rid myself of the blanketing and despondent stupor, I ventured into the petite desert balcony garden. I bent to inhale the bewitching, creamy, dramatic, poetic and ecstatic perfume of graceful, elegant and pristine tuberose blossoms adorning a single, perfect, slender stalk, with graduating layers of open, double buds tapering to a pointed crown of tightly wound unopened flowers. As I let the molecules of its hypnotic fragrance drift up my nose, I practiced slow, measured, drawn out yoga breathes to hold in its essence within me, heavily flowing to the olfactory centers of my brain, but further into the unexplained corners of my heart. The redolent petals enthralled and eased my troubled emotions, cleansing my palate of stinging doubts and showering me with an otherworldly perspective that lifted beyond the trifling blocks of self, mind and consciousness.

The Last Day

If today were my last day of earth, I would likely spend it in nature, by the sea, collecting seashells, learning about different varieties for mushrooms, messaging old friends, jumping, skipping and cavorting in the lacey, foamy, infinite, unconcerned waves, or I would rise early in the morning, to gaze longingly at the constellations, floating like idle, silver dust in the ceaseless universe, I would try to paint the tantalizing, balmy flowers that grow in my garden, the cosmos, Mexican sunflowers, roses, sweet alyssum, chrysanthemums and black eyed Susan’s. It would begin with coffee but I would also add a rich, arsenic green tinted pistachio muffin, I would listen to Bach, dance to Bruce Springsteen hits slowly, the ones saturated with the simmering pain and woven cast of despair that annotates many of our experiences, such as, “Hungry Heart” or “I’m on fire”, I would reread indelible stanzas of poetry such as “The Highwayman” by Lord Tennyson, I would take a hike to collect wildflower and to ponder more fungi, poppies and lichen, I would go to a bookstore and read satisfying and pleasurable books on gardening, design or consciousness, I would perform yoga by candlelight and meditate in a room with an awakening tuberose blossom perfume, languorously imbibing the sunlight, in a calm, pale blue apothecary vase, to bloom quietly and ravenously at dusk. But, if it were truly my last day on earth, I would venture to my garden, clear spaces on my soil, pick up leaf debris, use my husbands pliers to clip the old wood of the dead honeysuckle branches, that I couldn’t bear to discard before, I’d rake the squid ink particles of loam, clay, sand and manure to aerate the earthly womb, I would take a bamboo stake and annotate the surface inches less then our own final material resting places, meditatively scatter hummingbird and butterfly seed mixes, use my English garden trowel to obscure the inanimate, latent particles, trail a cloud of blush pink pebbled plant food, before decanting water into the vessels for masses of flowers in the future, for a bouquet.

Subtle Errors

Imagine if once in a while there are mishaps in the force of gravity or glitches in the speed of light, would our dreams become reality and our reality fade further into our reveries? Would the candle flame separate and set off musical, fragile, mini fireworks in our room, or the piano play it self in a delicate frenzy, or would the botanicals in the painting animate and release their perfume, or the lines of the book float into the space for us to read and grab and insert into our own program, maybe the world would be shaken upside down and we would walk on clouds and and the meadows would be our sky, or for once, we would be able to see with our brains as well as our heart.

Albino Peacocks

I have been uninspired lately, unable to conjure even minimal ideas to discuss further on the page. Perhaps it’s the excessive work hours combined with family obligations that’s led to burnout, or that the crucial point where I finally stop frittering my time surfing the web and social media is increasingly more difficult to surmount. Yet while I know that I must write, to think more carefully about my world, to mine the mysteries of reality, to help me understand myself, to further my entanglements with words, to heal those times of anxiety, restlessness or mundanity, to enrich the moment by creating sentences or to send messages into the future, I unfortunately push aside this calming activity, by being blatantly lazy or finding innumerable excuses to not sit down and write. But, upon further consideration, I realize that every day invariably carries inimitable charms, that the hours often contain transformative moments, brief recesses, simple joys or half hours of peace to linger, contemplate and partake in those activities that improve the living experience upon this tiny azure droplet in space and time.

These happinesses sometimes consist of daily observations in my garden, noting optimistic orange calendula blossoms from seeds I forgot I planted, while imagining also designing, a Saturday morning bouquet of calendula, Mexican sunflowers, orange African marigolds, debutante pink cosmos and summer cloud white roses in an old strawberry jam jar, or, they include eating a dark chocolate gift from my husband, with raw walnuts, while sipping Tetleys Orange Pekoe tea that I brought back from Toronto, savoring the muted, honeyed tones of the tea liquor, in the gentle filaments offered by ivory pillar candles, while reading the compelling and disarming narrative of “The Tigers Wife” by Tea Obrecht, or cooking barely seasoned wild caught salmon with pink salt, pepper and shallot oil, accompanied with a provocative watermelon, feta and basil salad, or taking walks around a mountain, palm, mesquite tree bordered desert lake feature with a few attorneys during a brief adjournment from our practice, or discovering that African Shea butter is a graceful and luxurious way to temper the ravages of dry Arizona winter air, or being thrilled by the mesmerizing images of albino peacocks against an emerald green meadow, or imagining owning a small plot of land to grow a field of marigolds, sweet peas and dahlias, or waking early to go to work before sunrise when the new moons faint light is subordinated by the intoxicating vista and performance of stars, or returning early from work on a Friday to witness a preternaturally gorgeous sunset with drifts of lavender nimbus clouds, pink lit and beribboned with silver charms.

Pearls & Black Ribbons

For my trip to Bangladesh at the end of the year, I intend to be very minimal in my approach and to convey a sense of style in thoughtful, considered pieces, including a few evocative and striking dresses, skinny jeans, white cotton blouses and dresses, ballet slippers, open toed gold and nude sandals and nude wedges, delicate, dainty and shimmering jewelry including tiny diamonds, pearl, emerald, opal and amethyst studs, pearl and emerald pendants and elegant pearl and brass bracelets. By premeditating a few dedicated hairstyles, including double Dutch brains, singular French braids, messy buns, high black ribboned ponytails and half up bouffant styles, and eschewing to a shimmering, glowy, blushed, smudged eyeliner and bright lipped face, clean and classic ballet slippers, lavender, peach and alpine snow white toned manicures and pedicures, plus coconut oiled skin, Ill have rescued some thought space to how to spend my hours, anticipating, meeting the people who positively intensify the experience of visiting a place, selecting riveting books to read, strategizing on value creating projects, and manifesting new connections while nestled in a beguiling, history soaked and distinct corner of the globe.

Never Stop Dancing

Meeting friends and sharing old memories, catching up, contemplating our current adventure, and deliberating upon future plans is one the happiest palliatives of any season. I recently hung out with an old friend visiting town who is a mesmerizing, talented, intense, inordinately gifted and emotionally captivating dancer. She noted that she loved Arizona as she felt closer to the earth, felt the palpitating and alluring vibrational pull of the desert, and that she enjoyed encountering the Native Americans who originally dwelled upon this terrain. As we discussed our love of creating, whether gardening, writing poetry or dancing, she said that we must unfailingly set our work into the universe, even if merely one person reads our words, or watches our dance performances. I believe that when we create we feel better about our selves; sharing what has given us solace, or eased our anxiety or made us forget our woes, might also help another, in form or in content. 🦋

[thomasgmcelwain]

Genesis 19

Genesis 19

1 Now the two angels came to Sodom

And it was evening, Lot sat in

The city gate, would have unshod them.

He rose to meet them like his kin,

Bowed down to greet them to the ground.

2 He said "Here now, my lords, be found

To sleep this night beside my board,

As I am servant, you are lord,

Then rising early you may go

In safety to the next depot."

But they said "No, we'll spend the night

Upon the open square in sight."

3 But he insisted strongly, so

They turned in with him for to go

Into his house. He made a feast,

Baked bread, they ate it without yeast.

I came for the first time to eastern bank

Of the Euphrates. Dusk I had to thank

That from the imams' training school came out

Five young men, by the river walked about

And took me by compulsion, gave me meat

And kept me in the mosque, a special treat,

Until the evening prayers were done. I found

A bed and home for one night. I am bound

The gate of Sodom was no better place

Nor more hospitable. No stranger's face

Was seen but recognized as face of God.

Beloved, I find Your face wherever mine

Is recognized by what small mark and sign.

The kernel's sweet, though we see only pod.

4 Before they could lie down, the men

Of Sodom, old and young again,

From every quarter, here they came

All to surround the house for shame.

5 They called to Lot and said "Where are

The men who came to you tonight?

Bring out the guests from near or far

And let us get acquainted right."

From loving contemplation of the face

The evil heart will without guide give place

To lust, and lust bring forth at last the fruit

Of violence in rape to follow suit.

So great and civilized reduced in lust

And violence, sank faith to humble dust.

The heart imagines shining faith to be

Its hallmark in any depravity.

The pristine "I" remains divine through all

The byways of transgression's beck and call.

Beloved, I turn from contemplation of

Your face upon creation's screen of love

And find how easily illusion's pall

Falls on the empty heart without recall.

6 Lot went out to them through the door,

And shut the door behind him, for

7 He said "Please, do not, brothers mine,

Act wickedly, but well and fine!

8 "See now, I have two daughters of

My congregation who've had love

From no man yet. I'll bring them out

And you shall choose without a doubt

Which of you men shall marry them.

But do no harm, do not condemn

These guests of mine, and stay aloof,

For they are guests beneath my roof."

The laws of marriage never fail to stand,

And hospitality to give a hand

To traveller in the way remains for good.

All brothers must behave the way they should,

No matter what the level of their power,

Degree of wealth, no matter what the hour

Or what the vision of Your glory be.

The mystic state does not set any free

From duty to obey the divine law.

Just as the master of high algebra

Does not give up the simple two plus two,

I bow to ethics even in the pew

Of mystic brotherhood. Beloved, the roof

Casts shadows on the friend and the aloof.

9 They said "Stand back! This one came in

To live here and tell us what's sin.

Keep acting as a judge and we

Shall deal worse with you than with them.

You certainly shall not go free."

So they pressed hard, Lot tried to stem

The tide against him, but in vain,

They nearly broke the door in twain.

10 The men reached out their hands and took

Lot in the house, shut door, 11 and struck

The men who were at the doorway

Of the house with blindness, they say,

Both small and great, and so they wore

Themselves to rags to find the door.

Blindness on blindness does not stop the go

To find the door to heaven and to show

Both self and world that I am never wrong

Though rightness cannot taste my weary song

In truth. The frantic flight toward the sky

In search of spirituality and pie

Does not give up though clouds of dark and mist

Protect the frozen heights of thought, insist

That on the sunny side of firmament

There is the gold-filled pot to which I'm sent.

I shall beat down the door and show I'm brave

Who search for You, Beloved, not like a slave,

But with a virile sense ignoring doom,

A man who knows his place and well-stocked room.

12 Then the men said to Lot, "Have you

Anyone else here? Son-in-law,

Your sons, your daughters, and whom you

Have in this grand basilica,

Take all and leave this wretched place!

13 "We will destroy this place, because

The outcry of their breaking laws

Has grown great in front of YHWH's face,

And YHWH has sent us to destroy it."

14 So Lot went out not to enjoy it

But warning to his sons-in-law,

Who'd married his daughters, his awe

Did not affect them when he said

"Get up, and leave this place, for YHWH

Will spoil this city!" But his head

Was foolish to his sons-in-law

Who were not worth the talking to.

This world is upside down, and yet its folk

Walk upright as it were. My faith, I poke

My head around the corner just to see

How civilized upside down things can be.

All things continue as they ought and should

Since time was made, and mount and valley stood.

And yet a day can come when all things change,

When narrow breaks out in a further range

Of mountains, smoke on valleys, rising seas.

Who spoke of variance from routine lees

Met storms of ridicule. I make my days

Eventless, yet unique in all their ways

As I seek You, Beloved, each day anew,

Infinities of stays in what You do.

15 When morning dawned, the angels urged

Lot to hurry, "Get up, diverged,

Take wife, both daughters who are here,

Lest you be consumed in the fear

And punishment of Sodom." 16 And

While he lingered, they took his hand,

His wife's and both his daughters' too,

Since mercy came to him from YHWH,

And brought him out as they had pity,

And set him down outside the city.

Lay hold on me, Beloved, I linger here

Beneath the rosy dawn. I have no fear.

Is it not good I have no fear at all?

Is it not grand my hearing of Your call

Has well inured me to the fateful ball,

And left me set apart, serene and calm

While others frantically avoid the bomb,

The others being angels even? My

High state of spirituality, so high,

Prevents any response to hue and cry.

Is it not fine, Beloved, I know no rage

And sit emotionless from age to age?

They are but prisoners of dark illusion,

(Are they not?) who succumb to the confusion.

17 It happened, when they'd brought them out,

He said "Escape, don't turn about!

Don't look behind you, no, nor stay

Anywhere in the plain or way.

Go to the mountains, lest you be

Destroyed." 18 Then Lot spoke to them, he

Said "Please, no, O my lords! 19 "Indeed

Now, I, your servant, in my need,

Have found grace in your sight, and you

Have multiplied the mercy you

Have shown me by saving my life,

But I can't escape with my wife

Into the mountains, lest some danger

Come overtake me while a ranger

And I die. 20 "See now, this city

Is near enough for me to flee,

And it's a small one, please now give

Me leave to go there and to live."

The city is a symbol of Your beauty,

Beloved, and so I live in one as duty.

The duty to bring to the civilized

The divine message should be realized.

The mystic cup kept to oneself alone

In time turns fat and meat to tasteless bone.

So let me join the throngs in some bright city

Where men are great and women know no pity.

If I should have to live on mountain slope

Who knows what evil might destroy my hope,

Who knows what tender flowers after the rain

Might clog my path to wealth and mystic gain?

Let my soul live near possibilities

And not beneath the stars and awful trees.

21 And he said to him, "See, I grant

You your request as habitant,

And shall not overthrow this city

For which you have appealed in pity.

22 "But hurry and escape there quickly.

For I must wait for you and prickly

Till you arrive, so I can act.

That is part of my promised pact."

That's why Zoar's the city's name,

And it means small, but not to blame.

23 The sun had risen upon the land

When Lot entered Zoar with his band.

24 Then YHWH rained brimstone down with fire

On Sodom and Gomorrah, ire

From YHWH out of the heavens come

25 So He destroyed them, made them dumb,

And all the plain, the people in

The cities, and what grew for bin.

I understand Your killing all the people

And breaking down both wall and dome and steeple

With fire and brimstone fully justified.

But everything that grew on the ground died.

Are plants and flowers sinful, and is fruit

Worth nothing in Your sight, like dust and soot?

Ah, kill the worried people, Lord, but spare

The violet and coltsfoot, make not bare

The lovely earth, the fragrant ground and soil.

Curse not again the earth for human toil.

Keep brimstone on the city and the fashion,

But when it comes to wild wood, have compassion.

My I-ness with a curious willingness

Relinquishes the people You would bless.

26 But his wife looked back behind him,

Became a tower of salt for whim.

The wife of Lot, she was a comely lot

Of sack, and popular for what she'd got.

Salt of the earth, they said who knew her best.

Shoulders and head she stood above the rest.

She knew the score, and kept her man in hand,

Her husband so susceptible to grand

And noble visions, quite up in the air.

But Lot's wife handled more than was her share.

She looked back to be sure nothing forgotten

Preyed on her mind, not gold, linen or cotton.

She looked back on a life ordered, well kept,

And stood to take a hand, and stood, and slept.

Who handles well the world and life and show

Remains asleep, and salted down to mow.

27 And Abraham went early out

To where he and YHWH'd stood about.

28 Then he looked toward the city plain,

To Sodom and Gomorrah's pain,

And toward all the land of the plain,

And he saw, and indeed, the smoke

Of the land about which God spoke

Went up like smoke from a furnace.

29 And it happened, that, when alas,

Ælohim spoiled the cities on

The plain, that Ælohim went on

To mind Himself of Abraham,

And sent Lot out of all the sham

And spoil, when He destroyed the place

Where Lot had lived and shown his face.

I look at rosy dawn toward the place

Your Angel stood, and see again his face

Set in compassion and in well-sought duty.

I see again Your Angel in his beauty.

The burning love You hold to all mankind

Will not be satisfied with torn and blind,

But must take of the first and best of all

To sacrifice in sweetness and in gall.

I turn toward the flames of charity

And feel the hotness on my face, I see

The longing fires sprung quickly from Your heart

To cleanse the soul in every nook and part

Of othernesses and of other gods,

Till You alone are left above the clods.

30 Then Lot went out of Zoar and lived

Up in the mountains, negatived

Had been his living in Zoar for

Himself and both his daughters, more

Could not be borne, and so he went

To live in caves instead of tent.

31 Now the firstborn said to the younger,

"Our father, leader without hunger

Of this diminished dervish order,

Is old, and there's nor man nor boarder

To marry us in all the earth.

32 "Come, let us make our father-priest

Of congregation and of worth

Drink wine of ecstasy. At least

He'll marry us and thus preserve

His line of children and not swerve."

Afraid to live among the riot ways

Of city nights and polished city days,

Lot takes two women from his congregation

To build on ashes towards another nation.

And yet his scruples as a man of God

Will not permit him to plough up the sod.

Loss, loss is all a man can ever find

In Zoar or in Sodom with the blind.

He offered them in marriage to blind fools

Who came at last in refuge to the pools

Of solitude and duty. Sometimes there

Is nothing left but water and still air.

Bless then, Beloved, the refugee and star,

The wandering satyrs wherever they are.

33 So they made their father and priest

Drink wine of ecstasy increased

That very night and the first born

Contracted marriage and was sworn,

And consummated though he knew

Not when she came nor when withdrew.

34 It happened on the next day too

The firstborn told the younger, "Do

As I did with our father-leader,

Let him drink wine, become conceder,

And enter marriage contract so

You shall lie with him to make grow

The line of our father and beau."

If wine of ecstasy is what is taught

In this crude story or if wine that's bought

From liquor outlet is intended here,

It makes but little difference, I fear.

The story is a warning for both things,

The weaknesses of labourers and kings.

I drink the clear draught of water of life

I find served at Your table, and not strife.

Beloved, I find the drunkenness You give

Makes mind and senses clearer where I live.

The heady realizing You are One

Is stronger stimulation than the fun

Of drinking and carousing. You are my

Sane knowing, my Beloved, without the pie.

35 Then they made their father drink wine

Of ecstasy and countersign

A contract of wedding and so

The younger lay, nor did he know

When she lay down nor when she rose.

36 So both young ladies as they chose

Were pregnant by the priestly throes.

37 The firstborn gave birth to a son

And called his name Moab when done.

He is ancestor to this day

Of Moabites. 38 The younger's way

Was to give birth to son also

And Ben-Ammi was his chapeau.

He's ancestor to Ammon now

Or till the last day anyhow.

The two last members of Lot's hearth cry out

In anguish at the wicked world about.

They fear the faith in You, Belovèd, ends

Since they and Lot alone remain Your friends.

If the last coal upon the hearth grows cold,

No longer shall the sparks fly up and bold

Hearts whirling, whirling there shall cease.

The wicked world is gone, their isle of peace

Contains the leader of the faith and them

Alone to bow before the seamless hem.

He will not in his faithfulness agree

To take advantage of the souls that be

Beneath his sole protection, then we must

Bind fast the marriage contract and but trust."

[restlessapprentice]

Oncoming Pain

Aching refined By finite design

Broken the soul on the wheeling divine Water to brine Pickled in time Arresting the best Is jarring to spines

I divest

The withering tide The day rests

All life defends a peace of the night Sleep

Glory to rousing bells Silver slumber slayers Conspire Florentine spires Awaken The great cathedral

Summer kiss Winter never tells We fall Stream springs forth, never the same Ring the morning bells

Edit

To the end 

Old railway light puts up a fight

Lick shine the tunnels 

tongue probe of light 

Thundering might 

Rattle the rails on the trail through the night

Light licking lampposts enumerate illuminations

Shoddy incantations, graffitied representations

Shadows chased from furrows and all for naught want not 

To the back end before he isled up idle

The summer of bedtime bedraggled and bedridden all an aside to ride out the tide

Foamspill designed 

And the waking world washes up

In salt swelling lines 

Of off shores stuck between two places in time

The back seat defined

God news to all who linger 

Stick your hand’s probing finger

Down dark pupils of gopher holes

Feeling for gold

Hoping its honey not bees that you hold

Repressed without finesse, processed, pity with time the willful stay blind 

Ten years behind

Form in the farmwave brings cold clouds to ride

Rippling the fence, an earthquake regrets 

The fire and water and wind it begets 

Gray glaring skies between great big brown eyes 

The bridge between hemispheres cut 

Now no highway 

No simultaneous pairing 

Recuse cut the fuse and no feedback loops

You can have the stream or the consciousness but you have to choose. 

I’ll go for the booze. 

Train your brain, the lights in the tunnel, oncoming rain needs no refrain. 

Well, lightning cries to bedtime 

sally forth and all who wait misbehave

There’s little trust in faith

The whipping cloaks of fate blown by ticking clocks of late 

Daggers to drive into hearts torn alive 

Blood bursting forth changing its course 

Well man maybe that’s simply par for the course

A means to a time, a rattling pride, a musical note tuned to stay alive

Nothing works when wandering 

Is only half true for a very select few

Someone like you

Lost in a hive of jellyfish mind

Left behind two different consciousnesses from the left to the right 

Dichromatic in time

Spin to thin out the herd of the kind

Music to chime in, poker to buy in, belly fills up bet the pot that pot that you lie in 

Light canceling out

Shimmering doubt

Interference patterns are what the world’s all about 

And a prize for the show 

Food that you know

Bellyfull recourse is vomit to most

And sober as that sizzling fat spits the cream to the ceiling 

A syrupy splat

In your eye

Sticking to perfect 

Sickness 

Never lost the best weakness 

A paltry side dish 

Something delish 

Spices and herbs and gardenfood bliss 

Pepper blind favor kills all the flavor 

Time tasting blandly is more than familiar 

Pallet dry future and rough on the tongue 

All those who wait for the war to be won

Live to placate 

But never empty the plate 

Map the road where to go nothing and everything’s the key

In the idling motor car engine

The buckling shocks 

Awe stuck doors without locks

Mirrors in the meantime look backward 

Step out for a minute

Lose the shoes 

Toes dig into earth like old worms with the blues

The great microscopic tree eaters 

Floor dwellers 

Sperm cellars

Rank tellers

Damp dirt in all who lie

In decomposition reclaiming the mudworld floor

In cahoots with the roots

Hilarious decay

Saw dust to dust in the mouths of the smallest of us 

Nature’s course on death and rebirth and other unpleasant circles 

Tree theme

Full steam. 

Light in the tunnel 

Ride the tide or be lifted 

With all other boats 

In ordinary moats 

Is never as interesting as shipwrecks remote 

As in for the television 

Tuned to the wrong channel 

The seaworthy mammal

Body spit foam and milk from the mother 

Salt milk silver sea

 Hole blown and alone

A forest to roam 

To play all the day is a west worldly moan 

And there’s your zen koan. 

Which means love the unknown. 

Makes the light in the ocean of darkness your home. 

Two petty kaons Three Petty loans Two cheap expressions oppose jetty coats 

Bitter in bayside

Par for the course 

The cable is cut on the cart of the horse 

Bitter is better than sugared remorse

Lemonade limes the bastard opines 

The master was faster than severing ties

Killed for his spine 

A pin in the crime

Shopkeepers grim reepers slip maps of their lines 

Smiles so wide 

The pickles in brine turn barrels to wine.

Vinegar eyes

The once upon a time 

You can waltz away from your problems but you foxtrot in time

The life of the lifted foot, swigning hips to the beat, arms reach the stars if they  stretch for carefree  

Leave it in bars 

The best picture tincture of scuttlebutt scrap jaw.

There are never old toils to see new ways 

Screw jack the pooch and he’ll cut you lose. 

Bite the leash take the teeth.

Grime of the bigfoot stall petty coat drawl bringer of binges and paint splattered walls

God images feed the fish 

The sparkling pond 

Fishing grown fond 

Information pulled wet from the depths with a net

It’s all about the teaching to fish right?

And all the slobber coats and the pilfering dopes gather too many clinking crinkles in their lines, never knowing where the crickets reside, so biteless go hungry, stomach in thoughts, empty in knots. 

At the bottom of his pockets two empty eye sockets 

And how you gonna fish with no peepers like that?

Fails are the scales on a writhing rainbow trout 

Hook in the mouth 

No forever and gone with needy eyes drawn finished for nothing and assigned some truth well what you going to do? Throw it back? 

Mowgli and Bagheera 

Death creeping nearer. 

Pistol pocket apricot 

Pistol pocket pepper jack princess timely for sure 

She makes her debut scowering the line scowling in time 

The drools of the fools drip down diamond hearings

Debutants twirl ribbons unfurl champagne corks pop across the lightning struck world 

Visions commissions and fission omissions there’s awkward science standing there 

The word play playground is full of bland mines 

Mind time 

All the rest dressed their best made the front of the line

Certainly fine

Clock stuck in gears with nothing but jeers bewildered to the back of the bar hands over ears willowing tears running like rainbows across the sky of her years 

Wrinkle appears

Collapsing contracting the faith of her peers.

All in the eyes of a new generation perfect contemplation a life fully lived ends in degradation 

Tragedy mined is the source of all time 

Fueled by the salt at the end of the line 

Bitter dark tumbles through damp dripping tunnels

Those ever winding railways in a rattling car

It’ll be ok it’ll be ok. 

Buried in the back seat by daylight where art thou through the wind in the window?

Who’s left behind?

Make it rain naked raincoats

The belly of the beast belays with no makeup 

There’s a person to take up delusions of fake diamonds

 The perfect carbon footprint

Nigh tide follows on the ride home from take off 

Well spring forth a force from the source. 

Winter falls from summer

All my strength to steal your pain

The pretty refrain

The flower is wilted and that strikes a vein 

Tragedy well played

And heaven awaits 

Her spirit forever 

My grandma is dying 

Doesn’t mean I can start lying

The truth is no shield when feeling like crying. 

Bitter residing

In the heart of all sweet light buzzing bitter bees betray their sweet honey pulled from flowers it only takes hours

A pestle of pollen to fresh sugar powder 

You’ll never leave me I’ll never leave you I love you I love you I love you it hurts. 

Fuck using words 

Their power don’t matter when matter disperses. 

Time robs our purses 

Ignores all our curses 

Death is deaf to our dumb universes 

Never reverses 

Music of the spheres moves in the wisdom of verses 

Cemented as scripture and true as black hole behavior

Or sickness

The physics of being.

Finite.

I want you to hear me I want you near me 

To feel 

That love is the light that makes the world real

The guardrails put up are hardly like steal 

Melting

Nothing to heal.

Finished the reel

Only a picture of Mary who suffers with zeal.

The light appears rushed. 

Brace myself

We are together. 

Letter cry 

Let her fly

God’s standing by

I love you. 

[whatisonthemoonarchive]

The Heavenly Divine Council

Who rules the world?  Is anybody in charge? As this study will establish, a heavenly council of spirit beings has exercised rule over our world for millennia. Paul referred to this group of spiritual entities in the sixth chapter of Ephesians:

EPHESIANS 6:12 For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. (NKJV)

This Scripture clearly tells us that there are evil spiritual powers in the heavens that rule over mankind and oppose God's people.  This is a fact verified in many other biblical passages.   Here is the farewell song of Moses in Deuteronomy 32 as it as it was rendered by Sir Lancelot Brenton in his 1851 translation of the Septuagint* into English:

 'When the Most High divided the nations, when he separated the sons of Adam, he set the bounds of the nations according to the number of the angels of God. And his people Jacob became the portion of the Lord,  Israel was the line of his inheritance.'  (Deuteronomy 32:8-9 Brenton LXX)

Because  the divine name 'Yahweh' was regarded by the Jews as too sacred to be uttered, they substituted the Hebrew word 'Adonai' in the scriptures wherever  the name appeared. 'Adonai' is rendered Lord in English. Therefore, in the old testament, the word 'Lord' refers to Yahweh.

Therefore, in Deuteronomy 32:9:

'And his people Jacob became the portion of the Lord'    means

'And his people Jacob became the portion of Yahweh'

There are two points to take away from this passage. First, the passage presents an apparently older historical theme, now preserved in Deuteronomy, that describes when the divine beings, that is each deity in the divine counsel, were assigned and allotted their own nation. Israel was the nation that Yahweh received. Second, Yahweh received his divine portion, Israel, through an action initiated by the god El, here identifiable through his epithet 'the Most High' (Elyon) In other words, the passage depicts two gods: one, the Most High (El Elyon), is seen as assigning nations to the divine beings or gods (the Hebrew word is elohim, plural 'gods') in his council; the other, Yahweh, is depicted as receiving from the first god, the Most High, his particular allotment, namely the people of Israel. Similarly, in another older tradition now preserved in Numbers 21:29, the god Chemosh is assigned to the people of Moab.

The ancient Book of Jasher (Jos. 10:13; II Sam. 1:18) reveals more about the circumstances surrounding this event:

'And they built the tower and the city, and they did this thing daily until many days and years were elapsed.  And God said to the seventy angels who stood foremost before him, to those who were near to him, saying, Come let us descend and confuse their tongues, that one man shall not understand the language of his neighbor, and they did so unto them.'  JASHER 9:31 (pub. 1887, J.H. Parry & Company, Salt Lake City, Utah)

The paraphrased Aramaic translation of Deuteronomy 32:8-9 found in the ancient Targum Pseudo-Jonathan explains as follows:

'When the Most High made allotment of the world unto the nations which proceeded from the sons of Noah, in the separation of the writings and languages of the children of men at the time of the division, He cast the lot among the seventy angels, the princes of the nations with whom is the revelation to oversee the city, even at that time He established the limits of the nations according to the sum of the number of the seventy' ....Deuteronomy 32:8  (Targum Pseudo-Jonathan, translated by J.W. Etheridge)

As Targum Pseudo-Jonathan points out, Genesis' mention of the separation of 'the children of men' refers back to God's division of Noah's descendants into 70 different nations, as recorded in the 10th chapter of Genesis:

'These are the families of the sons of Noah, according to their genealogies, by their nations; and out of these the nations were separated on the earth after the flood.'  (Genesis 10:32 NASU) *

Chapter 10 of Genesis is the backdrop for the division of the 70 nations** and their allotment to the angels described in Deuteronomy 32:8. Centuries later, with the advent of Abraham and Moses, the nation of Israel was established and we can find instances in the bible of Yahweh exercising dominion over his portion - his people Jacob.

One such instance is at I Kings 22 and II Chronicles 18, where Yahweh's prophet Micaiah describes a vision of the heavenly council that he had been given in regard to a question posed to him by Ahab, king of Israel and Jehoshaphat, king of Judah:

'Then Micaiah said, "Therefore hear the word of the LORD:  I saw the LORD sitting on His throne, and all the host of heaven standing on His right hand and His left.   And the LORD said, 'Who will persuade Ahab king of Israel to go up, that he may fall at Ramoth Gilead?'  So one spoke in this manner, and another spoke in that manner. Then a spirit came forward and stood before the LORD, and said, 'I will persuade him'  The LORD said to him, 'In what way?'  "So he said, 'I will go out and be a lying spirit in the mouth of all his prophets.'  And the Lord said, 'You shall persuade him and also prevail; go out and do so.' Therefore look!  The LORD has put a lying spirit in the mouth of these prophets of yours, and the LORD has declared disaster against you." '       (II Chronicles 18:18-22 NKJV)

Here we see mention of the "host of heaven" (Heb. tzeva' hashamayim) which stands before Yahweh.  Clearly this is speaking of angelic beings, including those on the heavenly divine council.  This vision seen by Micaiah shows that Yahweh approves the course of action that suits His purpose, which in this case was to bring about the death of King Ahab (I Kings 22:20; II Chr. 18:19). And this provides us an example of how the angelic 'gods' manifest their 'heavenly' agenda among the earthly nations.

_____________________

Foot Notes

*About 250 B.C. the Torah was translated into Greek. This Greek translation of the Torah became known as the Septuagint. Here is Deuteronomy 32:8-9  from the early Septuagint:

'When the Most High gave to the nations their inheritance, when he divided mankind, he fixed the borders of the peoples according to the number of the sons of God. But the Lord's portion is his people, Jacob his allotted heritage.'   (Deuteronomy 32:8-9 ESV)

Here is a later translation of Deuteronomy 32 as it as it was rendered by Sir Lancelot Brenton in his 1851 translation of the Septuagint into English:

'When the Most High divided the nations, when he separated the sons of Adam, he set the bounds of the nations according to the number of the angels of God. And his people Jacob became the portion of the Lord,  Israel was the line of his inheritance.'  (Deuteronomy 32:8-9 Brenton LXX)

The Greek phrase translated "angels of God" is aggelon theou; this interpretive phrase is found in nearly all the extant Septuagint manuscripts.  However, several earlier manuscripts have instead huion theou, or "sons of God."  This is a literal rendering of the Hebrew phrase beney 'elohim found among the Dead Sea Scroll copies of Deuteronomy 32:8. The Septuagint translators plainly understood that the "sons of God" (beney 'elohim) spoken of in Deuteronomy 32:8 and elsewhere were spirit beings ("angels"), and rendered it that way several times (Job 1:6; 2:1; 38:7) in order to clarify the meaning.  Thus the textual change from huion theou to aggelon theou. The Septuagint, seems to reflect an early Hebrew Old Testament text which was considered authoritative in the centuries prior to and during the time of the Messiah -- yet it differs significantly from the Masoretic text which was finalized by Jewish rabbinic scribes during the time 500-900 A.D. However, the Septuagint is the oldest Greek translation of the Old Testament, its witness being significantly OLDER than that of the Masoretic Text. The content of some books is significantly different when comparing the Septuagint and the Masoretic Text.

 **It is important to note that Israel is not listed in the index of the 70 nations found in Genesis 10.  The nation of Israel did not yet exist at that time.  Therefore, the statement that God 'set the boundaries of the nations according to the number of the children of Israel'  as some later translations indicate, is clearly out of context here.

***Here we see mention of the "host of heaven" (Heb. tzeva' hashamayim) which stands before YHVH.  Clearly this is speaking of angelic beings, including those on the heavenly divine council. The "host of heaven" is spoken of in many Scriptures.  Some Bible scholars attempt to downplay the true meaning of this phrase and imply that it speaks mainly of the stars in the sky.  Contextually, however, it is evident that tzeva' hashamayim often refers to the realm of spirit beings in the heavens.

The New Bible Dictionary says this about the "host of heaven":

This phrase (tzeva' hashamayim) occurs about 15 times, in most cases implying the object of heathen worship (Dt. 4:19, etc.).  The two meanings 'celestial bodies' and 'angelic beings' are inextricably intertwined.  The LXX translation, using kosmos, stratia, or dynamis, does not help to resolve this.  No doubt to the Heb[rew] mind the distinction was superficial, and the celestial bodies were thought to be closely associated with heavenly beings. . . .  The Bible certainly suggests that angels of different ranks have charge of individuals and of nations; (p. 495, "Host, Host of Heaven")

The following Scriptures indicate that the "host of heaven" is more than just the stars in the night sky:

NEHEMIAH 9:5 . . . "Stand up and bless the LORD your God forever and ever!  Blessed be Your glorious name, which is exalted above all blessing and praise!  6 You alone are the LORD; You have made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their host, the earth and everything on it, the seas and all that is in them, and You preserve them all.  The host of heaven worships You." (NKJV)

Only living creatures can worship God.  Clearly, the "host of heaven" here refers to sentient created beings which reside in the heavens.

The Good News Bible translates the same passage:

Micaiah went on: "Now listen to what the LORD says! I saw the LORD sitting on his throne in heaven, with all his angels standing beside him. The LORD asked, 'Who will deceive Ahab so that he will go and get killed at Ramoth?' Some of the angels said one thing, and others said something else, until a spirit stepped forward, approached the LORD, and said, 'I will deceive him.' 'How?' the LORD asked. The spirit replied, 'I will go and make all of Ahab's prophets tell lies.' The LORD said, 'Go and deceive him. You will succeed.' " And Micaiah concluded: "This is what has happened. The LORD has made these prophets of yours lie to you. But he himself has decreed that you will meet with disaster!"                   (2 Chronicles 18:18-22 GNB)

[idornaseminary]

Chapter One-Hundred Seventy-Nine: Enzo and Natasha

“Missing. Just… gone.”

“Did she run?”

“Maybe she was in on it.”

“Maybe they killed her.”

The Aquilen common room was rarely packed, seeing as most Aquilens were involved in some outdoor extracurricular activity or another; Enzo had to admit, he missed the days when his worst struggle was managing classwork with Quidditch practice. However, now, the entire house was together, chattering like wild beasts in a zoo. As Enzo pushed through the room that next morning, he could not help but overhear the others’ comments about Headmistress Liara. Was it true, then? Was Liara really missing?

His question was soon answered when the portrait to the Aquilen common room was finally unlocked and Professor Vincent stepped through. The entire room fell silent, all eyes on the Healing professor. He looked grim, and his eyes were swollen. Not from tears, it seemed, but from tiredness. It was nearly noon now. The other houses would have gotten their speeches, but Aquilen, of course, was the highest common room in Idorna.

Exhaling slowly, Vincent pressed his wand to his throat. “The beasts have gone back into the Gladur,” he said, his voice slightly shaky. “We assume they are a rare breed of Vampire, or possibly a mutation of the sort, but we cannot risk going outside just now, even in the sunlight. Not until we are sure they cannot survive.

Classes, as I am sure you understand, are canceled…” He said it as if it were stupid that he had to in the first place, which it was. Still, Aquilen students were not known for their brains. “After I dismiss you, you are all free to roam the school and meet with your peers. Bars have been placed on every window in the school, and we ask that, while you don’t need to avoid them, you don’t show your face for too long.”

“What about the cloaked guys?” It was Andre who spoke. Enzo mentioned the cloaked figures to him last night, and now, his curiosity was clearly piqued.

Vincent sighed. “Unknown.”

“So are they just, what, random creeps who live on the island, or are they students?” another girl piped up.

Again, Vincent sighed. “Unknown.”

There was a short silence, and Professor Vincent hesitated as if he did not want to continue. Eventually, he did. “Four-hundred thirteen.”

“Four-hundred thirteen what?” a boy called.

“That is how many students are currently unaccounted for,” the professor replied. “We cannot say for certain if that is how many are dead, but you are adults, and you ought to know.”

“Liara?” Andre asked, his voice hardly heard over the sniffling that came after the announcement of the dead. “Is it true? Is she missing, too?”

Vincent nodded so lightly that you could have missed it if you blinked. “Yes… she is. And because she is not here to open a portal off of Isle Velum, we are stranded for the time being. So, for the time being, myself and Professor Ibori are going to be in charge of Idorna.”

He went on to explain that everyone was expected to be in the common rooms at ten o’clock every evening until instructed otherwise. Starting tomorrow,  everyone would be interviewed, as well. They were all told to keep an eye on one another, and to keep an ear open in the case that there were students among them who were not innocent.

“Stay safe,” Vincent ended with before exiting the common room, closing the portrait behind him.

Enzo made his way down the staircase when the crowd had died down a bit, his charmed messenger bag slapping annoyingly against his hip. Most students remained in the rooms or met with one another in the Great Hall, so he did not run into many on his way. He knew he was instructed not to, but when he passed one of the large windows on the staircase, he peered through the bars. Below, just in front of the gates, the snow was still covered with blood, but the bodies were gone. Enzo felt bad for Doctor Evans, who was the soul tasked with preparing dead students to be sent back to their homes. He wondered if they would this time. Four-hundred thirteen bodies sent around the wizarding world in the same type of coffin with the same note would rouse suspicion.

He snapped out of his stupor when he nearly passed the fifth floor, and turned down it. Seeing as there was no common room on this floor and all classes were canceled, it was vacant, which served him well, seeing as most everyone would be watching him and the rest of his unlikely company in the days following.

He reached the portrait, forcing the woman to stab herself before pushing it open and closing it swiftly behind him. He exhaled loudly, finally feeling, for once in a long time, that he was in private.      

Turning away, Enzo made way for the fire, letting it warm up his chilled bones before he sat down on the floor, crossed legged, and began to empty the contents of his charmed bag: miniature cauldron, a jug of warm, heavily salted water, plant-based ingredients, original Enzo-made ingredients, and two large cloths.

Enzo looked at the clock, noting that he had roughly ten minutes until Natasha showed up - if she showed up - which should be enough time.

The news from the professors about everything was not taken well; wild rumors flew around about who was causing all of this, where Liara had disappeared to, and what was going to happen to all of them. Natasha thankfully was able to avoid the worst of it by retreating back to her room, and soon enough the common room had largely emptied out, either with people returning to their own dormitories or venturing out into the castle to see friends from other houses. She took what time she could to just relax and recuperate, but soon enough, it was nearing noon, and she had to go meet Enzo.

The Cucurrion elected to bring her bag of Divination supplies with her, the silvery fabric of the strap digging slightly into her shoulder as she walked up the single flight of stairs. She didn’t know what Enzo wanted, and decided it would be better to be prepared. She was thankful to not run into anyone on her way, as she quickly deviated from the path any Gestonas or Aquilens would be taking to get to the lower levels. She reached the familiar portrait and spoke quietly, watching the now-unsettling blood trickle down the woman’s torso before stepping inside the Den.

It was a surprise to be met by the smell of a brewing potion, one Natasha couldn’t quite place. Potions was by far one of her greater weaknesses, but Enzo looked very comfortable, seated in front of his small cauldron on the stony floor. She cleared her throat lightly so as to not startle him, in case he hadn’t heard the portrait swing open, then walked over to him.

“Why did you want to meet?” she asked, never one to beat around the bush.

Enzo looked up at Natasha, just as he poured an ounce of mint-infused dragon claw ooze into the new silver coloured brew. It puffed up, and Enzo scooted back a foot or so, letting it settle.

He should have known Natasha wouldn’t have been one for a warm welcome. No one would be today. “Just to talk,” he said, gesturing to the armchair across from him that she usually sat on when they met.

Natasha hesitated at the answer Enzo gave her. The Aquilen wasn’t exactly known for being the most verbose, and after everything that happened in the last few days, she wasn’t sure she was prepared for whatever he wanted to talk about. Nevertheless, she move over towards the chair he gestured to. She set down her bag, avoiding using her left arm more than necessary, then sat down in the armchair. With her legs crossed, she looked at Enzo again, letting him take the lead since he was the one that wanted to talk.

As Natasha took her seat, Enzo added in the poppy heads and Lady’s Mantel, letting the mint and salt scented brew sit for another minute to cool down.

He looked up to the German, huffing. “How are you doing?” He knew it was a stupid question, but he needed to figure out where her head was at.

Well, that wasn’t the question she expected. Natasha knew it was stupid, but she hesitated, not sure how to answer. That was the likely the first time anyone had asked her that since all of this started, and the answer wasn’t exactly positive. But she was sure Enzo was just asking it to be polite before he launched into whatever it was he really wanted to talk about, so she responded with, “I’m alright, considering. Just glad to be in one piece.”

Enzo nodded at her answer, stirring his brew with the tip of his wand, cooling it faster. “Did you, uhm… Did you lose anyone yesterday?”

Is this how you make small talk, you idiot? he thought, kicking himself internally. Natasha was not someone who was easy to converse with. Between her and Calix, it was a task to figure out which was disliked him the most. Although he supposed Beatrice had them both beat now.

Natasha’s eyes drifted to the cauldron as Enzo stirred it with his wand, admittedly curious as to what the brew was; the scent of mint and sea salt was soothing, but unfamiliar to her as far as potions went. His question redirected her attention, however, and she focused on his face for a moment.

“Ah, no,” she told him, shaking her head a little and tucking back a long lock of dark hair.

‘No one left to lose’, she thought, although she didn’t say that to him. Not that she really had anything left to hide from the Frenchman.

“That’s good,” he said, nodding his head. “I mean… the situation isn’t, but good that…” he trailed off, sighing. “Sorry… long night.”

Finally, as the smoke settled on the brew, Enzo picked up one of the large cloths, tossing it into the cauldron and letting it soak in the potion. He picked it up, wringing out the viscous, green liquid. He then set the salve covered cloth on the lip of the potion, letting it dry.

“Is Cucurrion okay?” he asked idly, just wanting to get to what he called her here for. “Aquilen was restless.”  

Despite everything, Natasha couldn’t help but smile faintly at Enzo’s discomfort. She knew it was at least in part her fault, and to be honest, she felt a bit guilty. But it was also amusing to watch him struggle.

“They’re definitely quick to point fingers,” she said, the words a bit more biting than she meant them to be. Of course, there was a good number of students who didn’t think Natasha was involved, but there were enough that did that it was getting to her. “But in general, I think they’re okay. Just as unnerved as everyone else.”

Enzo nodded, deciding that the salve was ready now. “You’re a good actor,” he said. “But you’re bad at hiding pain. Did you see Doctor Evans last night?”

Natasha blinked a little at the sudden shift in topic, glancing at the potion again before looking at Enzo. He was apparently more observant than she expected; her shoulder had been hurting quite a bit. The Vampire’s claws went deep into her flesh, and her rudimentary healing skills were not enough to do much more than she had when she splinched herself. It was easier to heal other people, as she had found out.

“No,” she told Enzo truthfully, seeing no point in lying when he seemed to already know the answer. “It’s not that bad, and I didn’t want to be waiting forever with a bunch of emotional wrecks when it wouldn’t take that long to heal on its own.” Her words weren’t as convincing as they once would have been, her tone lacking the disdain it held before when she talked about other people and their feelings.

“Shocking,” Enzo said, playing his hand at sarcasm. “Natasha Kraus did not want to be around others?”

He shook his head, grabbing the salve and standing up.

Natasha rolled her eyes slightly, although the sarcasm wasn’t entirely undeserved.

“What exactly is that?” she asked when he stood with the salve, eyeing it carefully. She didn’t trust things she didn’t understand, which meant she avoided potions as much as possible. And while Enzo had never tried to hurt her, at least not when he was in control of himself, she was finding she had less and less trust in people to follow their regular behaviors.

“It’s a healing salve,” he said. “I knew you were not going to see a medic, and I saw how badly the Vampire injured you. Doesn’t hurt. Just shifts from warm to cold every hour or so. I’m no healer, and Calix is in no condition to tend to you, so this is what we have to work with.”

That caught Natasha off guard. Enzo...Enzo realized she was hurt, knew enough about her to guess she wasn’t going to see a healer, so he went out of his way to brew a potion that would help her injury? It seemed...strange. Like he wanted something from her.

“Why?” she asked bluntly, staring at the tall Seeker. “You already saved my life, it’s not like you owe me anything.”

“Debateable,” Enzo muttered, walking so he stood behind her. “Without you, we wouldn’t have figured out anything about the Quidditch match. And without you, there is a high chance we would still be rotting in those cells while Melanie and Beatrice were….” he trailed off, not wanting to spell it out. “You’ve done enough to warrant this.”

He cleared his throat then. “Can you… expose the wound? It needs to be in contact with skin to work.”  

Finding out the words at the Quidditch match never got us anywhere. And without me, you wouldn’t have gotten caught in the first place.

But Natasha didn’t voice any of those cynical thoughts that came to her head. Instead, at Enzo’s request, she shifted the collar of her maroon sweater, ignoring how much she was stretching it out as she pulled it aside and revealed the deep wounds where the claws dug into her skin. She hadn’t gotten a good look at it, so she didn’t know how bad it looked, but she knew it couldn’t be too bad, at least on the surface.

Enzo stared at the wound. It wasn’t as terrible as he thought, but he knew it would infect if left alone - he did not need to be a trained medic to understand that.

“This is going to burn a bit at first,” he said, holding the salve. “But just for a moment.” He let it near the skin, and the potion cried out to latch onto the scent of blood - as dragon claw ooze so often did. “Deep breath,” he muttered, just before letting the cloth go. It was like a magnet to her skin, latching onto the wound. Within seconds, it would begin leeching the toxins from her blood.

Natasha wasn’t usually one to take orders, but she did as she was told this time, filling her lungs with a deep breath just before she felt the cloth attach to her skin. Sure enough, the first sensation was one of a burning pain, which caused a small cry to escape her lips, but it was a matter of moments before that faded to give way to a pleasant warming feeling on her skin, which seemed to be drawing the pain out of the wound. She sighed lightly, her body visibly relaxing.

“Thank you,” the Cucurrion murmured once the pain started to fade, looking up at Enzo. She still didn’t fully understand why he did this, but she appreciated it.

Enzo grunted, giving her a faint smile before moving back towards his cauldron, dipping the other cloth into the potion and letting it sit.

He sat there for a moment, thinking hard about if he should leave this meeting at that and move along, but he knew that a better opportunity might not come. He sighed, attempting to release all of the tension from his lungs.

“I won’t get into it, because I’ve gotten to know you over the past few months, and you clearly dislike speaking about your personal life,” he said, not able to make eye contact with her. “Trust me, I am in the same boat… But you… told me things in the dungeons, just before Theodore captured us.”

Natasha cleared her throat uncomfortably as the topic changed. Enzo was right, she didn’t like talking about her personal life. And she really didn’t like the fact that someone knew every detail about it, particularly when she revealed it inadvertently in a highly emotional situation. But she’d expected a conversation about it for awhile, so she was at least somewhat prepared.

“I did,” she agreed, not really sure what else there was to say. He’d paused, but clearly he had more to say about it, or maybe some question. She just hoped that if it was the latter, it wasn’t anything too probing.

“Most of the night is a blur, but… I remember you talking about your brother. Ryan-Heart… or something…” he continued. “Was he your boggart?”

Natasha couldn’t help but tense slightly at the mention of her brother and the boggart, remembering the image of Reinhard pointing the gun at her, saying those things to her. She got lost for a moment in the memory before she came back to herself, realizing she still had to answer Enzo’s question.

“Reinhard, and yes, he was.” She toyed with the ends of her hair, looking down at her lap now instead of at the Frenchman in front of her.

“I don’t think you need me reminding you of what he did over Winter Break,” Enzo continued, in too deep now to stop. “So I won’t probe. But… you said that was your family home, and you really do not have anywhere to go once we eventually leave here. Is that right?”

“That’s right,” Natasha confirmed, wondering if this was about to lead where she thought it might. Just in case, she added, “But I’ll figure something out.”

“I figured,” Enzo said, removing the second salve from the potion and ringing it out, setting it on the lip of the cauldron, as he did with the first. “But I want you to know that, despite what you think, you have friends here. Back home in France, I have an apartment that is charmed to be the size of a moderately sized home, far too big for me alone, and a House Elf that will be at your side the second you need assistance.” He thought of how strange it would be, watching Natasha and Gilly interact. “I know you and I are not what one would consider to be close, but you’re not stranded. If you need somewhere to go, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

Despite almost expecting it, the offer caught Natasha off guard. Enzo had never seemed to like her much after the night of fyrsta tunglið, not that she blamed him. She had nearly taken advantage of him in a bad way, and beyond that, she just typically rubbed people the wrong way. So to have him, albeit indirectly, refer to himself as her friend and offer his home to her...it was surprising, to say the least. She wasn’t even sure what to say, particularly when no one had ever offered her something like this before.

“A-alright,” she eventually managed to stammer, unable to hide her own shock. “Thank you.” She blinked a few times, ducking her head down to compose herself for a moment. It felt ridiculous to feel emotional about this, but she was willing to blame it on the high stress levels brought on by the events of the last few days, even if she knew that wasn’t really the culprit.

Enzo cleared his throat, no longer wanting to be involved in this conversation. He stood, the second cloth in his hand, holding it out to Natasha who looked like she was just punched in the gut. “Leave the one you have on for three days, then switch it to this one. They’re fine to shower with. If it’s still bad after both are used up, you can ask Calix for help. It just means I am bad at this.”

After everything, Natasha was still good at reading people, but she didn’t need that to know Enzo was eager to escape this conversation. She took the cloth from him and nodded, smiling weakly at his instructions.

“Thank you,” she repeated, feeling as though she was having to say that to the Frenchman a lot lately. She stood as well, shifting her sweater to cover the salve already on her shoulder. “Give my best to Melanie.” The Cucurrion doubted she would be seeing anyone else in their unlikely company for a while, unless one of them found new information about all of this.

Leaning down, she picked up her bag and put it back over her good shoulder. She glanced at Enzo one last time before heading back out the portrait hole, mind still reeling from everything that just happened.

[nofomoartworld]

Thinks: Elena Ailes

Hello dearest reader. Welcome to another installment of Wednesday THINKS. This week, we bring you a text from Elena Ailes, an artist, writer, educator, and in my opinion, a true citizen of the world. As you might intuit from the text below, Elena is at home in sensorial-anyplaces. In my view, she writes from deep within the consciousness of our dreamed-out-nation-state that may or not awake from its slumber. Here’s Elena. Enjoy.

Yours,

Meg Santisi

  On January 20th of this year, the inauguration for the President of the United States included prayers by two American televangelists, both self-described ‘prosperity preachers’. Religious leaders of the prosperity gospel preach that financial wealth and physical wellbeing are gifts from God, a mark of his blessing and preference given in exchange for unyielding faith, prayer and donations to the Church.

In this worldview, the accumulation of capital is clear evidence of moral certitude and blessedness, while words, actions and ideas are wrapped up in the confusing, arbitrary and seemingly masturbatory nature of ‘God’s will’.

The wealthy are merely God’s willing subjects, and this ‘willingness’ is never connected, spiritually or otherwise, to the systems used to concentrate material wealth or to how these systems jeopardize the wellbeing of others.

The verticality of this God – Blessing – Chosen Subject ecclesiastical model is not unfamiliar, though one hardly expects to find the production of capital so disturbingly tethered to the swooping curve of the divine right of kings. Humans, by and large, live on the ground, even as we yearn for atmospheric flux. So far, very few have been interred up, in the air. Most of us will go down, in earth or sea, or away, in fire. Some do make it up, in death. Elysium Space, Ascending Memories or Orbital Memorials, all private companies, can bury you in space.

What orientation should beings (and non-beings) be ordered? Ordained? Can we now agree that  +  is actually a delightfully astute, if somewhat cryptic, symbol for the spiral, minus time? Is the spiral a pitch towards progress? Or just another spin on the vertical/horizontal wheel of fortune? What on earth do we do with all this?

  Opt out and become uncontained. Err away from the horizon of the will toward the curve of deviance. Swerve toward still.

  Herr Jakob Johann Baron von Uexküll,

When you say “clamp a snail”

(YA-KUB VON OOKSGULL,

I would never recognize your name off the page)

when you say “clamp a snail” and put

it on a rubber ball in water

when you say hit the snail repeatedly

with a

stick

when do you recognize that in an effort to articulate another’s world

you have fundamentally altered your own?

  Jakob von Uexküll, the early 20th century German biologist and biosemiotician, fine-tuned the study of animal behavior right into a worlding, right into umwelten. For Uexküll, each species is a performed fullness contained within a spatial and temporal boundary; each sensorial frame of reference an articulation of subjecthood, of being.

He told us that if you hit a snail repeatedly, three times per second, it will turn away. But if you manage more than three blows in the allotted time and hit the snail four or five times in a second, the snail will perceive the stick as not moving at all, and will continue forward to crawl onto the stick. The snail would fully understand the faster moving stick to be a stick at rest because the movement of the stick was functioning outside the register of snailperception, snail umwelt.

Clearly, consciousness, whether that of the snail or of the scientist, is a limited ability, taking hold only in the most certain of situations. The uncertain situation calls upon something else.

  You came to show me the ingenuity and boldness of your sandwich making while I was in the shower.

  Potatoes. Eggplants or aubergines. Neither term seems particularly accurate, though accuracy in titles was never required, nor possible.

All of the groundcherries, including goji, boxthorns, gooseberries, wolfberries and tomatillos. The difference between naming things in the north and naming things in the south is a difference that you can feel in your body, though it is impossible to locate where. It moves, and it is none of your business, as it is not business at all.

Tomatoes, familiar to you. Hopi tomatoes, probably less so.

All of the chili peppers: ancho, arbol, habanero, ancho (which is just another, drier, name for poblano), Anaheim, which is just another name for home, which is nowhere near Anaheim.

Bell peppers, whose chemical taste is the result of the volatile compound methoxypyrazine, also found in wine grapes when they’ve been picked before full ripeness or when they’ve been treated with sulfur to prevent the spread of phylloxera.

Your average lover of Chilean wine has been hoodwinked, though the average Chilean potato grower has not.

Tobacco. A sacred gift and the subject of a $206 billion dollar lawsuit settlement.

Jimson weed, Devil’s snare, thornapple, moon flower, hell’s bells, tolguacha, prickle burr, devil’s cucumber, Datura stramonium.

Petunias. Yeah, petunias.

Atropa belladonna, divale, banewort, death cherries.

Henbane and Mandrake, particularly beloved by the witchier crowd.

  These are my nightshades.

  And, of course, Solandra maxima, Solandra grandiflora, campaña, cup of gold vine, golden chalice, cutaquatzitiziqui. The orange trumpet flowers of the Solandra maxima plant can be as wide as the diameter of a dinner plate. The massive blooms perfume the air with coconut, honey, and a little something else, something warmer. When a flowering plant fills the air with scent it is a summons for the external and autonomous apparatus that is so necessary to the plant’s ability to reproduce: the pollinator. Moth as foreplay.

The flowers of Solandra maxima vines also release another sort of summons: a chemical pheromone identical in structure to human pheromones normally associated with the reproductive activities of sex and love. Pheromones that human bodies also produce.

This overlap, this biological and chemical repetition of form, is a parallel summons emitting forth from the plant-being carrying coconuts, and from the human-being carrying salts. A scent-based call-and-response to amorous action, pushing and pulling on one another.

  Particulation is an atomization of perception, a collapse of a unified and fluid whole into the smallest units of perceptible information possible, a necessary slowing down of time. Particulation is what happens right before exhaustion, and what is exhaustion but a moment of saturation, a final ‘no more thank you’. If we are exhausted subjects, we are also saturated subjects.

  From petunia to goji berry, the Solanaceae family is taxonomically massive, a plant family comprised of 102 genera and over 2800 distinct species, which is so many sisters in one room.

A potato shares 92 percent of its genetic material with a tomato, that last 8 percent a blueprint for the secret architecture of the tuber, a devotional to the swollen root vegetable as opposed to the fruiting body.

Modern pharmacology owes at least one finger to the nightshade family, the genera being host to a chemical gold mine of alkaloids, painkillers and mood-enhancers, psychotropic and otherwise, the properties of which become a mind-numbingly large maze of toxicological data.

It is through the gifts of a nightshade that we have dilating eye drops, local anesthetic, hormone replacement therapy. People often eat nightshades, but in some cases, that shit will turn you into a vegetable.

  Pick a flower and place it by your bedside. Turn it towards you, a trumpet blasting a coconut invitation right in your hole-filled face.

  The term vegetative state has long been used by the medical profession as a diagnosis for patients who exist in a wakeful yet unconscious state. Patients are described as being in a state of partial arousal, rather than true awareness. Their eyes are open but they are unresponsive to external stimuli. The European Task Force on Disorders of Consciousness recently recommended that the term be abandoned in favor of a more neutral label: unresponsive wakefulness syndrome. Vegetative state, it is argued, has a “pejorative connotation, and seems to inappropriately refer to these patients as being vegetable-like.”

I am certainly not interested in the dehumanization of anyone who has suffered a brain injury and is thus limited in function or responsiveness, nor in speaking on their behalf while they themselves exist in silence. If I could share the agony of someone in a vegetative state, I wouldn’t try to speak about it. I would stay silent for my plant person. (1)

I would like to note, however, the language for language swap that is occurring here: vegetableness for an immobile wakefulness.

We are most plant-like in the one third of our life that is unaccounted for, in our sleep. It is in sleep that we enter the temporal register closest to plant beings. Our attention turns inward towards the void, towards rest. Exhausted, we put our feet at the bottom of the pool of our thinking minds and let go.

  You have many mouths, and many hands.

  Here we neglect to experience time in any measurable sense. We absorb the world through muted scrim without the benefits or hindrances of having to perform language. We lie dormant, in darkness, our perceptive senses limited to simply absorbing light, heat, sound and touch. We are, for the most part, sessile, immobile.

The most familiar apocalypse scenarios involve visions of “the end” as a natural disaster: a massive meteor slamming into earth, a switching of the magnetic poles, floods of biblical proportion. In short, the end is generally depicted as a display of nature’s power over culture. With global climate change as arguably the most important and unifying fact of human life on this planet, the irony of culture swarming over nature as the usher of the end of the world would be funny if there were anything left to laugh about.

The binary separation between the human and non-human world into distinct categories of “culture” and “nature” clearly does not convey the complexity of the interrelated spheres of influence that these worlds possess over each other. The fact still remains that human beings are subjects that are also objects, who both live with other objects and in another object.

  Try to imagine your imagination functioning multiply.

  The difficulty of truly grasping the concept of the possibility of a subjectless planet is in part due to the inability of finding easy ground with this continual subject-object switcheroo. Any argument for the radical reorientation of the human subject in a world of objects can be recognized as a symptom of the current position of the human subject, which, I would argue, is that of the exhausted subject.

I see potential in this altered subjectivity, a state of possibility, openness.

  Imagine that your sex is multiply located, experiencing both direct sun and partial shade.

  A human woman sits on the bus for too long—three stops past her regular stop—making eyes at you while you hold a shopping bag and pretend to eye smile into the screen of your phone. The woman hopes that she is flooding the air with pheromones, fully knowing that your vomeronasal receptor, located at the back of your throat, is likely useless. Unsure if you share this chemical grammar, she silently marvels at the antiquity of her system of desire, at the bold dysfunction of her direct inquiry

  The sea sponge uses mimicry and chemical seduction to find food and to manage successful reproduction.

A sea cucumber, when it receives the right stimulation, dumps a third of its own body weight in semen into the ocean waters. Another sea cucumber, receiving a separate but appropriately timed signal, releases a cloud of eggs, a chancy ejaculate.

Stimulation, in this case, is moonlight and the temperature of the surrounding waters.

Fungi, such as molds and mushrooms, are capable of being any number of the possible 36,000 sexes.

We are all worlding here.

  –

  Much of this text was recently published as a small chapbook, NIGHTSHADES by Kastle Editions (Chicago, IL) The images depict examples of biological ‘sexual conflict’ and are held in the Wikipedia Commons.

  Elena Ailes is an artist, writer and educator who is interested in what makes her a better or worse person, especially in theory. In reality, she lives and works in Chicago, IL. You can find her work here and here.

  Other Spaces: Shifter launch at MANA Contemporary

Reviews to Make You Swoon

Visual Molasses

Does the whole = the sum of it’s parts?

Design Miami/Basel: The Blog

from Bad at Sports http://ift.tt/2ms9Gn7 via IFTTT

[tipsycad147]

7 Ways To Use Magic For The Zodiac: Cancer

SL Bear

July is the season of the Crab and to celebrate, I’m dedicating this post to Cancer witches! Here, I’ll be providing some Cancer self-care tips and ways to counter some natural weaknesses. There are also a few treats included for the Crab seeking love, or those needing a quick recharge of those great Cancerian traits. So get cosy, Cancer, this one’s for you.

Soft-Shell Crab

Cancer is a water sign, ruled by the moon. Like the tides, a Cancer’s mood can rise and fall, changing rapidly depending on outside influences — usually the people they surround themselves with. Cancer seeks equilibrium and needs to feel comfortable and loved, and when they don’t, their moods can go dark. They are empathetic creatures who feed off the emotions of others and try their hardest to make the ones they love feel good. However, they are also hypersensitive, and if they don’t feel that love returned, Cancer will overanalyse and panic. While this sweet nature is an asset in so many ways, it also unconsciously gives people a lot of power over you. Not good! It’s fantastic to love with your whole heart, you just need to make sure your heart is protected in the process. So how can this be achieved?

Whenever you feel the balance start to shift, and you’re giving more than you get, don’t get moody — just pull back! While people love that you’re so thoughtful (always thinking of ways to do something unexpected and kind), remember that it’s not a relationship requirement that you give ‘til it hurts. And even if they don’t show it in the same way you do, that doesn’t mean you aren’t loved. One of my best friends growing up was a Cancer and she used to buy me cards once a week with paragraphs written inside describing why she was happy to be my friend. It was the most thoughtful and kind thing ever, and all my bone-headed self could think of to express my gratitude was to just say thanks. That’s it! It was so much less effort than she made but that didn’t mean I didn’t value her friendship. Keep that in mind, Cancer — you will always be dealing with people who give about 75% or less when you give 200%.

So, when you feel you aren’t getting enough in return (and it will happen a lot), stop and treat yourself like you do your family and friends. Instead of spending a lot of energy on others for a change, take a break and do those things for yourself and remember your Cancer self-care.

Clean your house, light some candles, and make it cosy. Cancers rely heavily on a safe and comfortable home, so instead of tending to others, tend to your own space. Cleanse with sage. Take care of anything that’s been neglected. Turn your ringer off and make this time all about making your home a little brighter.

Return to the water. As a Cancer, water is your sanctuary. Go swimming or take a long bath with all the extras (salts, bubbles, candles). If you live by a lake or the sea, go spend an hour by the water’s edge and meditate, or bring some music and just relax. Most importantly, do not bring your phone. Be unreachable during this time so that your only focus is you.

Volunteer. The simple truth is, Cancers love feeling needed and being helpful. While this can be draining when you’re constantly doing it for the same people and getting little in return, it will feel amazing doing it for people or causes who really do need you. I usually don’t like it when people just say “volunteer!” as a solution to a personal problem, but in Cancer’s case, it will be a great way to get out of your head while doing something good for others.

Practice being alone and feeling satisfied with just yourself as company. Cancers can get a little needy and the best way to break yourself of this habit (that only hurts you) is to find enjoyable solo hobbies. This way, when someone doesn’t come through with the energy you need, you can retreat and find comfort in yourself.

Collect moonstones! Cancer is ruled by the moon and will have a natural affinity for these lovely, powerful stones. And just like the moonstone, Cancers can recharge themselves in the moonlight. Spend some time basking in the white glow when you feel mentally or physically drained.

Play To Your Strengths

Cancer excels at protection spells, especially protection of the home and the ones they love. However, because Cancers have such big hearts and love so easily, they are vulnerable to those who’d take advantage of them. Don’t forget to protect yourself, too! Carry tourmaline to ward off negative energy and people, and be wary of those who seem too good to be true.

Cancers are also incredibly intuitive. Because they are so attuned to the people around them, they are excellent people to ask advice and are usually uncanny at zeroing in on what you need to hear — whether you want to or not. This is exactly what makes Cancer such an excellent witch, especially in divination.

Hydromancy is an old form of divination using water. You can drop pebbles into the water and read ripples in the water’s surface or whisper words over the water and wait for answers. One method includes dropping some oil into the water and observing the forms created as the oil twists along the water’s surface. Candles can be set around a bowl of water, and their flickering reflections interpreted. This can also be achieved with sunlight or, more ideally, moonlight. However you choose to work with the water, as a Cancer you will be especially talented at reading its secrets. Combining this form of divination with the moon will be extra powerful for Cancers seeking answers.

Cancerian Altar Spell

Cancers in love are happy creatures, especially if they’ve found partners who go above and beyond to treat them right. Naturally a little co-dependent, Cancers seek out partnerships and do well in pairs — not even necessarily romantic pairs! Even their glyph, the distinctive “69”, is a reference to duality, yin and yang, and partnership.

This spell is an attraction spell for Cancers looking for love. It’s designed to showcase the great Cancerian traits and draw out those who will be most attracted and best suited to those traits. If you’ve got your eye on a specific person, I’ve included a loophole in the spell for that situation. However, this spell is all about compatibility and if the one you’re after isn’t that great of a match, the spell won’t be as effective.

Best time to perform this spell: With the full moon of course! If you have a cycle, perform this spell a week after your period starts.

You will need:

The Chariot tarot card

White rose petals, freshly cut

Vervain

Milk

Rose oil

Shells, any will do though cowrie shells are best

Rose quartz

Moonstones

Two small mirrors

A warm bath

Pink salt if you can get it, though sea salt will work

Seven red candles

To begin, prepare your candles. On each of the seven candles, carve one trait you are seeking in a mate, then dab a little rose oil over the word.

Next, prepare your bath. Drop your rose petals in and stir the bath seven times. Next comes your milk — just a few tablespoons will do — your vervain, and your salt. Stir again.

Set your candles along the edge of the bath where they will be reflected in the water, but in no danger of falling in, and light them in order of importance of each trait you’ve chosen. Place one mirror behind you at the head of the bath, and one mirror at the foot of the bath where you will be able to see your reflection. Set the Chariot card near or behind one of the red candles — somewhere it can be front and center while not at risk of falling into the water. Between each red candle place a moonstone. If you only have one, place it by the Chariot card.

Now, in one hand take a few shells and in the other, take a rose quartz. Step into the bath and stir the water gently seven times. Raise your hands palm side up in front of you, with the quartz and shells on display.

Recite these words:

"On this altar, I offer my love

To the one worthy of me

Who will nourish and protect

Love and respect

Send them straight to me"

Lean down to the water’s surface and whisper these words:

"Don’t leave me blind

Guide my way

Help me find"

Keep a careful eye on the candlelight reflections in the water and take a mental note of any shapes or images that appear now. These are your clues to help you recognise your new lover when they come into your life. As the water settles and you become more accustomed to reading these clues, they will become more pronounced and certain shapes will repeat. These are the ones to take special note of.

Still holding the quartz and shells, sprinkle water on your arms, shoulders, and top of your head. Extinguish your candles with droplets of water from your bath.

If you have a specific person in mind, this spell can be altered slightly by adding a white candle and writing his or her name on it. On the seven red candles, write the reasons why you want this person — their specific traits that attract you. Change the line in the spell “to the one worthy of me” to “to [their name].” Finally, instead of reading the water for clues about a new lover, ask for guidance on how to win the heart of the one you want.

This ritual does not need to be repeated unless you’d like more practice reading the candlelight reflections or you were unclear of any signs. Otherwise, one bath will suffice!

So, happy birthday, Cancerians! I hope you have an amazing month, find what you’re looking for, and enjoy every moment.

And don’t forget to put yourself first sometimes — no one deserves it more!

Do you know how to enhance your magic, improve your intent, and get kick ass results from your spells all at once?

If you don’t, then you need to be utilising the amazing energy system inherent to the human magical system. Tapping into this energy system allows you to understand the magic you’re using on a far deeper level and achieve results that will blow your mind.

In The Witch’s Energy System, I’ll break down the entire system into easy to use pieces so that you can learn to see, feel, and make use of this energy in a way that will completely change how you view your own magic.

Learn More Here >>

https://thetravelingwitch.com/blog/2018/7/8/7-ways-to-use-magic-for-the-zodiac-cancer