Magic

Wow, sorry again for the late posting; I suppose I haven't really been on edge. Ugh, I have got to finish the A-Z thing so that I can make a random post if I feel like it.

In honor of May Day, I am going to tell you all about another odd collection of mine. My mother and I were discussing the origins of the Swedish Walpurgis traditions (BIGASS BONFIRE LET'S GET SMAAAASHED), and hoping to answer some questions I went and dug out a few tomes from the large selection in my room. After looking at Wicca, Wicca Craft, Witch School and Buckland's Complete Book of Witchcraft (although this last one turned out to be a lot more anal and less informative than the others), we had learned a little bit more about Pagan Beltane festivities. Yup.

The thing that's a bit odd here is that all these books date back to when I was between ten and twelve years old. I was always precocious in regards to literature, but I was also, as a fundamentalist would say, a devilchild of the highest degree. (I also have books about Egyptian magic, moon divination, herb properties, Chinese horoscopes ... all acquired before the unlucky age of 12,89.) I know loads about this stuff. I really mean loads. I read reference books about earth religions from cover to cover, multiple times.

and this was my desktop a LOT of times

My mother's family, despite their Catholic origins, have always been very open to the spiritual, and so I was raised by a pack of crazy crones exposed to these sorts of things early. I suppose I enjoyed the thought of the Other, the esoteric, and the ritual - things that make the drab Real World a bit more fun. I'm also a compulsive systemizer, so the belief in the power of the four elements and all their affiliated symbols (seasons, compass points, gemstones, planets, zodiac signs...) was a great resource for categorization of the world. Mumbo jumbo hocus pocus things (as the uninitiated may say) are also fond of foreign writing systems, be it runic, ogham, or Chinese, and so for an eternally budding linguistics/mythology enthusiast like myself, that shit was irresistible.

There used to be a fantastic little shop nearby my house. The shop was called Tre häxor (literally Three Witches), and had I really been a chosen one, it would have been the place where my supergroup would gather and be coached in the secret arts by the magical elderly lady who ran it. Tre häxor sold overpriced essential oils, gemstones, incense, and books about light healing, but dang there was some cool stuff in there. (Crystal balls! Dragons! Tarot decks!) I loved that store. I loved the clerk lady. She probably loved me too, or at least my frequent monetary donations to her business. She retired many years ago. The last time I saw her was at some sort of girls' fair in my municipality, where she sold off as many of her wares as she could. She gave me and my friend (who I dragged down with me, and who loved the store equally) each a big hug and a hematite ring. BEING FRIENDS WITH SALESPEOPLE GETS YOU FREE STUFF.

My hematite ring cracked down the middle not long afterwards when I dropped it in the sink in a fit of stupidity. I am choosing to believe that this was because it had fulfilled its purpose and not because of any explanation that makes some sort of sense. I saved the halves in one of my weird little boxes.

And now, what you've all been waiting for: PICTURE TIME.

This is the outside of Sophia's closet 

This is the inside.

It's not too visible with this shitty no-effort nonquality, but that big dark spot on the lower shelf is actually a trio of removed scalps that I wear on my head sometimes when I impersonate people.

And here is a close-up. The light is terrible because I can't be arsed to go get an actual camera, but allow me to clarify. You can see a variety of phials and some incense in the back. That yellow thing is a Tarot deck. Among all those black spots is a quite lovely scrying bowl and a bag of home-made divination rocks made by a preteen past self after the instruction of a book called "Moon Magic for the Modern Woman" (they were actually quite accurate). The copper glint is a teeny-tiny absolutely adorable cauldron my paternal grandma gave me, and the green thing in the front is an ocarina, aka the smallest piece of shit I ever spent too much fuckin' money on. There are two small boxes in the back stuffed with exotic curios.

Now that I have clarified things you should have been able to see had I taken a proper picture, I can summarize what happens next.

I slam my closet door shut and all my imaginary love interests slowly back away.

No, jests aside I'm sure you all think my extensive knowledge and material wealth in this subject is pretty great.

unless any one of you is a closet Christian fundamentalist

please don't burn me