Tuesday, April 30, 2024

Writing and Beltane

Grey haired, grey bearded man with fallen cherry petals on him.
I've just finished a short story manuscript and I'm taking a quick break.  I will give the manuscript a rest and see if I like the ending more in a day or two.  The story is in fourteen sections and is about 5500 words.  If I can knock off 1000 or 2000 words, that would get it closer to the sweet spot of 4000 words for short stories.  

Tomorrow is May First, which makes it calendrical Beltane.  Since it's a Wednesday, I think we'll wait a few days to when the sun is half-way between the equinox and the solstice to celebrate.  Besides, it will probably be raining.  Even if Mark won't countenance a bonfire, we can light a bunch of candles in our fire place.

Onto the back-log of unfinished and stalled manuscripts!

Monday, April 29, 2024

Review of “Psychic Witch”

Man examining a book with piles of books in foreground
“Psychic Witch,” by Mat Auryn is an introductory book of “meditation, magick, & manifestation” with a folk magic emphasis. It contains magical theory and accompanying exercises to help a magical practitioner learn foundational techniques and build up from them.  While not especially original, it is accessible to the solitary practitioner new to concentration, meditation, and visualization.

“Psychic Witch” is not a book about starting or working within a group or coven.  There are references to Wicca, other Neopaganisms, and ceremonial magick, but the author’s witchcraft is more centered on solitary trance work and folk magic.  While the author identifies as a gay man, the subject matter is aimed at a general audience (sorry, no Sex Rituals of Gay Pagan Men here; this isn't a work by Storm Faerywolf). 


Books like “Psychic Witch” are often compared to Dion Fortune’s “Mystical Qabbalah,” which is grounded in early 20th century British magical theory and colonialism, or Starhawk’s early works, which are grounded in Goddess-centered alternatives to the patriarchy (and Ronald Reagan).   My impression of “Psychic Witch” is that it is an introductory text drawing mostly from later Neopagan (and New Age) authors, such as Raven Silverwolf and Christopher Penczak.


The book’s chapters have a web article feel.  Some chants and spells have awkward scansion; but not as egregious as other recent Llewellyn books I’ve read, and at least there’s an attempt at more complex meter.  I’m sorry to say that the binding of the softbound Llewellyn edition I purchased was of poor quality and the book began shedding pages after five days of a first reading. 


The opening chapters introduce the reader to Auryn’s cosmology. He makes a distinction between psychics who perceive spiritual energy (e.g. through clairvoyance) from the higher self, witches who affect subtle energy (e.g. through casting a spell) via the lower self, and psychic witches who do both (this implies mundanes do neither).  There’s a few passages which hand-wave about “discernment” and “energy,” with statements about reality being energy and subtle energy being information. There is also some light review of brainwaves and the pineal gland which make the science fiction writer within me wince.  The end thesis is the pineal gland is a psychic Witch Eye which is a key organ for working with and powering magical operations—this is a more focused version of the theory that the chakras are magical energy centers centered over or connected with various endocrine system glands.


Auryn writes, “Magick is the manipulation of subtle energies in a specific manner to influence a desired result.” Although it’s a modern rewording of “actions performed within the astral plane have their effects upon the material plane,” it seems more physics-justified than Aleister Crowley’s definition, “Magick is the Science and Art of causing Change to occur in conformity with Will;” Dion Fortune’s, “Magic is the art of causing changes to occur in consciousness, in conformity with will;” or Starhawk’s combination of “Magic is the art of changing consciousness at will,” and “A spell is a symbolic act done in an altered state of consciousness, in order to cause a desired change.”  


While there are some other science and technology references to “downloading (spiritual/psychic) information” elsewhere, for the most part this feels less an attempt to give his system a science pedigree and more an attempt to offer physical, physiological, or cognitive behavioral explanations for why meditation and concentration are foundation skills to build upon.  My only critique of using Science Says arguments is that Auryn writes that the subtle energies used in magick cannot be physically measured—which means Science can say nothing about them.  Dion Fortune gets around studying the unmeasurable by making a distinction between natural science and occult science.  To his merit, Auryn doesn’t use the words quantum or entanglement; although he does use the word fractal in some explainations.


Early chapters focus on various mediation, concentration, affirmation, and visualization techniques. These are used to perform standard grounding and centering exercises from the Western European twentieth century magical tradition.  Extrasensory perception is explored with suggestions for seeing auras or hearing spirit allies.   Standard purification and shielding techniques are built on top of the development of subtle perception.  


Auryn introduces the concept of the triple souls in chapter 6.  Drawing from the Irish poem, “The Cauldron of Poesy,” he builds an integrated world and body view.  A person has a Higher, Middle, and Lower Self; these in turn are connected to a corresponding Higher, Middle, and Lower (or Under-) Realm.  The selves and realms form the underpinning of an introductory text on standard 20th century reincarnation belief.  This belief is that the higher self in the higher realm (possibly the astral plane), connects with a lower self (your shadow self or “Sticky self”) from the underworld (with references to Jung, the collective unconscious, “earth energy”, and ancestral memory), to create a temporary physical body, the middle self.  


Subsequent chapters explore the lower and higher selves with an aim to connecting with and making conscious the shadow or id elements of the lower self, and with connecting with the true or divine will of the higher self.  The ultimate goal is to bring the views of the lower, middle, and higher self into aligned focus and achieve a powerful altered state of conscious. In this exalted state a psychic witch can perform (healing) spells. Auryn pauses a moment to extol readers to act from a place of service and  (Starhawkian) power-with instead of power-over. 


Chapter ten explores the creation of sacred space, or the magic circle.  Chapter eleven introduces the five Platonic elements earth, water, fire, air, and spirt/ether (which Auryn calls “quintessence”).  Chapters twelve and thirteen revisit the realms in terms of subtle (unrecordable) energy, and launch into simple astrological meanings of classical planets—the Sun through Saturn.   After an introduction to one’s body’s aura, chapter fourteen assembles the concepts of the previous chapters into a technique for mediation/spell casting which starts with a foundation of the physical and works to bring successive selves, bodies, and realms into focus on the same goal.  


Chapter fifteen is a series of spells or “magic tricks.”  This chapter comes close to “Prosperity Check” territory.  While there isn’t a Spell To Get a Parking Spot, there is a “Money Magnet Multiplier” spell which involves drawing the glyph for Jupiter onto a dollar bill during a waxing moon (repeatedly, if necessary).  I suppose that this isn’t all that different from complicated sixteenth century spells to summon beings of extraordinary knowledge and ask them, not what the true nature of solar fire (nuclear fusion) is, but rather where the nearest buried treasure lies—or even standard prayers for protection, health, love, and prosperity.  While elsewhere Auryn mentions the practical aspect of spells needing the witch to work toward desired results (e.g. hitting the pavement and handing out resumes in addition to staring at a green candle for money), the wheedling charms in this concluding chapter leans toward the more superstitious and self-serving end of folk magic.


As an introductory text, Psychic Witch is a wide-ranging guide for secular-leaning, solitary practitioners new to spell-casting and folk magic (as opposed to, say, someone on the path of a priest or priestess of a Gardnerian Wiccan coven). Its strength is that it starts with basic foundational techniques and instructs the reader to practice, practice, practice.

Tuesday, April 23, 2024

Spring Iris

Purple, about-to-open iris; blooming azalea in background.
The irises are flowering out front.  They get more sunlight than the irises in the back.  I love the way that they smell, which too me has deep base notes with a touch of sweetness.  Writing this, I think iris and carnation would go well together. 

Monday, April 22, 2024

Agates, Seals, and Florence

Bundled up man holding up a medium sized agate, which is backlit by the sun.
We went to Muriel O. Ponsler Beach again to escape rising pollen levels and to search for agates.  This is the time of year when the pollen levels start to rise; the trees are very active right now, and I'm not looking forward to when the grasses start up—after an hour of typing outside, my laptop, keyboard, and mouse have a dusty yellow coating.  It's good for Mark to get out of the pollen and it's also good for him to get out of the house and into nature.

Mark is a natural early riser.  I pulled myself out of bed at 5 AM and we managed to leave the house a little before 6, just after sunrise.  By pre-arrangement, Mark drove, and I napped a little.  

Pit Bull Terrier carrying a ball on a rocky sea strand.

I must have misread the tide tables, because at a quarter 'til 8 the tide was much, much higher than I thought it would have been.  "You be sure to keep an eye on the ocean," Mark warned.  "Don't think I didn't see you last month, standing on a rock, surrounded by water, with a funny look on your face."  (Reader, I was in no danger of inundation, and the retreating flow of the ocean around the rock formed a natural deposit of agates and stones of interesting nature.)

When we got to the beach, there were only three or so other folks there, so we could let Aoife off leash while we threw her ball for her and hunted for agates.  Sometimes she'll drop her ball on top of an agate, at least for Mark, but this time around we stumbled over two really large ones on our own.

Seal poking its head out of a foamy surf.
Afterward, Mark wanted to go to the Strawbery Hill park and look for seals.  I was hoping that I'd be able to photograph them, but they were mostly in the water.  The tide and foam and my far-sightedness made it difficult to zoom in on them with my camera.  It was easier to get images of cormorants.  I was hoping that I might catch a pelican or two, but they were too far out to get a good likeness. 

20-sided icosahedron displayed in a metal frame.
We were in Florence by noon, where we walked along the streets and docks.  Florence is a very dog-friendly town, which I hadn't realized until then.  That said, Aoife was very leery about going down one ramp. They've made an effort to have interesting art along the paths—an icosahedron caught my eye; I thought it was welded metal, but I think it something else.  


White-tipped pylons holding river docks in place.
We grabbed a light snack from a dock chowder stand, but the combination of Three Aggressive Dogs (snarling and lunging), hot noon-time sun, and a busy dock wasn't the best for the dog (she didn't like it when a boat bumped into the dock next to us), so we ate quickly.  

The nice thing about leaving for the coast at dawn is that one can spend a sufficient amount of time enjoying it and still get home by mid-afternoon.

Monday, April 08, 2024

Oregon's Partial Solar Eclipse

Sun's disk with a tiny bite out of it near the start of the April 8 solar eclipse.
Today I managed to site today’s total solar eclipse.  Oregon was outside the path of totality, and Eugene only got about 23.5% sun coverage.  I thought this eclipse would be a little like last year’s, which was not very visible through the clouds, but the morning was relatively sunny before the eclipse, so I readied my colander, camera, and tripod with high (or at least higher) hopes.


Sun's disk with a 15 percent bite out of it during the April 8 solar eclipse.
I set up my portable work desk on the back deck and set things up.  I put a solar filter over the lens of my camera.  Back in the summer when I bought it, I had a notion that I’d fly east to be in the path of totality.  But by the time I got my act together in mid-January and sat down to actually purchase a ticket, they were prohibitively expensive.  The filter allows me to get a close-up of the sun’s disk, complete with sunspots. 


Sun's disk with a 19 percent bite out of it during the April 8 solar eclipse.
When the eclipse started, there was a light haze.  As the eclipse progressed over the next hour or so, the clouds became thicker.  This presented a bit of a challenge, as I had to keep adjusting the exposure time to compensate for changes in the sun’s luminosity.  When the cloud cover thickened,  I used a longer exposure time; when I used a longer exposure time, the camera was more likely to pick up the scattered light from the clouds.  Also, I’m also thinking the filter messed up the sharpness of focus—although I sometimes have difficulty dialing in sharpness of the moon’s features when I’ve extended the lens barrel out all the way.


Grey haired man with a beard, digital camera aimed at the sun in the background; crescent sun on camera's LCD.
Between shots I took a look at the sun through some eclipse glasses.  I also tried to get a good image of the eclipse through the holes of a colander; I think it would have worked better with more of the sun covered by the moon and less covered by the haze and clouds.  


Blurry crescents projected onto a white sheet of paper through a colander.
This eclipse was fun, and I remember the eclipse of Friday, August 5, 2017.   That eclipse was a party with eggs, bacon, and mimosas.  This eclipse was juggled between a kind of early lunch, and various Day Jobbe tasks.   The previous eclipse was a family event; this year it was just me (Mark went into work), the dog, and the cats (Aoife did lunge into the camera tripod near the end to harass squirrels).   The effects of the eclipse were muted by the clouds, and we weren’t in the path of totality, so there were no amber alerts, shadow bands, or roosting birds.


Hazy phot of a barely crescent sun seen during the April 8, 2024 eclipse.
Shortly after maximum coverage, the clouds thickened and hid most of the rest of the eclipse. I did get a few shots in at the end when the sky cleared some.  Of course, as soon as the eclipse was complete, the clouds cleared up and the sky was a deep, clear blue.


Digital camera with a fully extended zoom lens; grey haired man in the background.
Still, it was better than last year’s annular eclipse.  

I wound up taking about 200 photos. It’s safe to say that not all 200 were stunning eclipse shots, but they do show the process.  I chose about sixteen that seemed the best (or at least the most interesting).


Sun's disk with a tiny bite out of it near the end of the April 8 solar eclipse.

John wearing solar eclipse glasses.