I WAS Mellow until the damn entry vanished on me ( Read more... )

The peculiar thing is: the deed is the same for many labels. Hedge Rider, witch, volva, worldwalker; all those who tread the line between the mundane and wild. Liminal am/are I/They. For that is the essence of all those labels; to serve as the link between the Wild and Mundane, Mundane and Wild. And who is served by the witch, et al.? Why, ( Read more... )

The journal is taking a turn from what I envisioned it to be at the beginning.

HedgeRiderLOF(Leap of Faith)When sanity is madness ( Read more... )

Wow, December 8 and I'm already over winter. :) What kind of short-term memory we Minnesotans have! What a way to run a railroad. Maybe having 50 hour weeks all through November has just ground me down. BUT...Gods, I'm tired!! ...And broke...and feeling neglected. Whiny, too ( Read more... )

For certain values of true. :) Oh, boy! The ol' nature of Truth dustup. How predictable ( Read more... )

I'm signing up for a workshop at Earth House. Kinda hope it makes the schedule. I call it True TalesIt's about life lessons from living magically. I'm encouraging people to participate, lest it turn into my rather offbeat life story. Not that I couldn't fill an hour or two with just me - however, I think others may have some neat experiences ( Read more... )

So odd, Secret Knowledge. To hold a secret, one communicates not. To hold knowledge, one must pass it on. Paradox as a way of life.

We've been told not to judge others. What folly that is! Of course, we judge others! "Can he keep a secret?" "Will she be corrupted by this bit of knowledge?" Life is a series of judgement calls; we can ( Read more... )

There is rhythmn to Death and Life. To Hunts and Circles. To Terror and Joy. Somewhen I hunted and learned how to break the hunt. Rhythmn is the strength and the weakness of Magick ( Read more... )

Another night, another time. A darker night, a darker time. A different perspective ( Read more... )

It is night. And the moon is full. There are 5 of us on a hillock in Nebraska, not far from Lincoln. In the distance are points of light, farm houses that are unaware of us. There is a chill in the air as the circle is cast; which quickly warms as the space within is filled by our presence. It is still, even the breeze has caught it's ( Read more... )