Merry meet all,
I explore graveyards. I worship my ancestors at my ancestors altar. I read dark fiction and hold a fascination with the paranormal. I love bats and cats and the moon. I own a ghosts and spirits tarot deck. I go where few dare to tread. Yet I see nothing wrong with writing horror. My mother doesn’t like it even though she supports what I do. She knows why I do what I do but she has her own opinions, which she is entitled to.
Most Wiccans, ok some, are the fluff bunny type. I’m going out on a wire here and dare to cross a line. I am all about honouring nature. I own a garden where I grow herbs and flowers. I am aware of the environmental issues and I do my part as best I can. There is only one planet Earth. We should take care of her or we will have nowhere to practice our craft. The moon is a poor replacement. Seriously.
I love to burn black candles, wear black nail polish and black clothes. I read the book Memento Mori yet couldn’t drum up the same enthusiasm from others and wondered why. I was called the Grim Reaper for wearing a black cloak- in my defence, I was cold! I like to include the darker gods and goddesses in my practice and my writings. I own skulls and don’t shy away from the darker herbs. Skulls don’t scare me. Crows have warned me of a death. I don’t hurt spiders and can’t fathom why some people sprinkle spider killing powders in their homes. They are the world’s best insect predators. Where would we be without them? I am one of the few grey or darker witches in Halifax.
But it all started when I found out about necromancy. I finally found my calling. I plan to perform the pact ritual where you basically sell your soul back to yourself. You reclaim your power. I just need to obtain a few ‘provisions’, such as a lancet, herbs, a skeleton key, a mirror, a skull. Once I have everything, I will be able to perform the ritual. I finally found something deeper- and darker, but I was searching for that ‘deeper something’ and found it. I think this truly hearkens back to the Witches of Olde.
If this is my calling, I don’t mind. I revel in it. I get odd looks when I walk out in public, cloaked. I am one of the few who do. I see it as something with substance. I mean honouring a flower is all good and well but not the same thing. Ancestor worship should be done all year not just on October 31st. So it comes as no shock to know I perform an ancestral supper on October 31st, on Samhain eve.
I just completed a 5-day Tarot plunge course. The course was offered online. I enjoyed the course and learned new things and was reminded of what I already knew. It was fun to do. I plan to finish my paranormal novel and send it off to editors. A friend is reading it right now. I might write a chapbook of horror themed poetry. I applied to attend the StokerCon festival hosted by the Horror Writers Association.
Black roses unfurl! Show us your glory! Let bats swoop through the nights and owls pursue mice. Black candles burn, their flickers whisper secrets to the moonlight. I may be alone in my deep plunge into this darkness but it is oh so satisfying, more than just plain old navel gazing. I keep a photo of my grandfather on my altar. I loved him in life and honour him in death. I am sure he watches over me. I want to learn all I can about it.
So to those who are like me, you’re not alone. Blessings to you!
Lady Spiderwitch )O(