Sacred Objects take two.

Posted it in the wrong spot at first.

I find it interesting that by my instincts (as is the theme this week clearly) even as a small child I had fairly elaborate rituals and thought put into sacred objects.

The first things I regarded as absolutely sacred were:

Rocks. THey had to have a particular feel, a particular weight or be very unusual to me. Suffice to say I had a big rock collection and had special rocks tucked away because they felt and seemed special or made me feel good holding them.

Leaves, plants, herbs, flowers. I learned by trial and error what things I could keep. What things I was allergic to. Things I wasn’t allergic to I remember playing Medicine Woman by myself and using stone against stone to make pretend poultices for everything from the pretend psychic maladies my friends had when we played certain horror flavored games, to me trying to replicate things I’d read in books about local tribes. It seemed to be really important to me a child.

And before anyone says a peep about appropriation I will again remind you I was a child. I also  had no access to my own culture I didn’t know if I had a culture so this is where I started out.

I remember writing down what I felt were sacred recipes. Sacred ideas and i never let anyone see them. 

It still gives me a chuckle to think about my sooper seekrit witchy practices as a kid.

When I got older I gave Christianity another try mainly out of peer pressure.

I think I will talk about that some other time.

For now I’m going to try to remember to take some pictures of my little sacred things and I may or may not give explanations.

Some habits die hard.


Of what Magicky things happened.

I don’t think I mentioned it before but all of my witchy woowoo comes from an instinctual place.

Over the years I’ve developed a habit of having the instinct, researching it and finding out that my initial thoughts were correct.

I’ve always found that to be interesting. I am not really attracted to strict traditions. I went through a baby witchery phase and read ALL the Llewellyn books and hated them.

After the instinct and research I normally either decide something isn’t/wasn’t for me or didn’t feel as right as I thought it would be.

As a kid this proved kind of difficult because I didn’t have access to good books so I made up a lot of shit on my own.

This habit led me to doing a lot of reading about Shamanism in various cultures, ethnobotany etc. My first altars were small usually and built outside in various parks, around the apartment complex I lived in etc. I usually made them out of stones and decorated them with flowers, berries and food if I could get some.

I remember one I made in a park by my parents house. Later on I saw a picture of an altar dedicated to Papa Legba and the one I had made looked like one that was half Shinto and half Papa Legba. That sort of thing happens to me frequently. At that young age it wasn’t necessarily on purpose. 

I am thinking that once I move back into a place I actually like I will be rebuilding my altar so I can feel more at home.

That’s your witchiness for the day.

I’m going to sit here and chuckle at my baby self and the things I did.




This is my altar to work with all things zine, craft, and DIY related! It was also originally crafted to compliment working with the Collective Tarot. Then I started working with sigil magick and it just seems like a good fit for this altar. It makes me so happy to wake up and see this everyday! It feels complete to have an altar for something that has been very important to my life for the past 20 years.

p.s. Not typewriters were hurt in the making of this altar. This 3 bank Underwood is my very favorite from my typewriter collection.


This is a lovely altar. 

(via hannibalthegoat)


Where I’m coming from.

Being that these things are deeply personal I will not deal with any fuckery. I don’t care to be proven wrong or right. As far as I’m concerned there is no wrong or right here. Only what feels right to me.

That being what it is I suppose I can start by explaining where I’m coming from in terms of traditions etc.

I rejected Christianity and anything to do with the Christian bible pretty early on. It didn’t feel right or necessary to me. As literature the bible is interesting but not something I would stake a claim to.

As a kid I went to some churches, I participated in Young Life (it was awful). I went to synagogues, major holy roller type mega churches, tent revivals etc and none of those seemed like a good fit.

I should mention that I was treated far better as a guest and potential member of a synagogue than I was a few of the churches I went to.

The last church I went to tried to rope me into going to an abortion clinic protest and I was so angry I vomited in the van.

My earliest attempts at ritual and dipping my toes into paganism were in the third grade when I decided first that I wanted to be mummified in a traditionally Egyptian way. 

I was a strange kid and was drawn to religions based on their death rituals for a long time. I wrote out a handbook as to how I was to be mummified and what posessions were to be interred with me.

After doing some research I decided that it would be too expensive for my poor parents and decided I wanted a Viking funeral.

I took pains to write down that it would have to only be a semi Norse funeral because I had no mistresses or houses to be buried with.

So to start off I had a liking of death related dieties.

Early on I spent a lot of time doing death related little rituals I made up myself. I was too little for fire or mummification tools and tended to make elaborate burial rituals for small animals if I found them dead.

So that’s where it all started.

Later I’ll talk about my failed attempts at Christianity and the Llewelyn new age flavored witch years.

Also my introduction to kitchen witchery and whatnot.


This has been a post.

A test post.

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