Vines and Bindroots.

Sunday, July 31, 2016


The solanum dulcamara grows in my garden in the shadow of a veil of ivy, a mock orange tree, spearmint, dandelion, bramble and a great other simples.  These herbs have grown here since my childhood, planted by my grandmother or sister or aunts over time, spreading out and taking over the wild of the backyard. This is where the bindweeds grow that I'll use in particular charms.

 Bittersweet or Woody Nightshade is used in oneiric charms, conjuring dreams.  Mercury, Saturn, moon, air, these will all transmit mysterious dreams when summoned through the genius of this sister to the nightshades.

Feminine, saturn, water, morning glory is used in binding harmonious charms, ones that appeal to lovers.  It's my favorite and I keep ropes of it around for yearly use.

Feminine and masculine, Saturn, water, the ivy symbolizes healing and protection, it binds these charms and adores multiples of 3.  It's name is Hedera and she is the root of things green and good and should ever bind dark green things.

Seasons don't fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain...
we can be like they are
Come on baby... don't fear the reaper
 

Circles in the long grass feel like solar energy, like warmth and harvest and death worship.  I worship death just as I worship life.  It's two sides to the same coin, life and death.  One ever leading to the other, push and pull, the eternal dance of creation and destruction played out on a thousand cosmic stages.  From the birth and death of stars, there comes the birth and death of materials and metals, protein chains, cells, life, and to the death all these things will return.  Death is a mother of life, just as the Green Woman is the barer of the sickle of the harvest, she is the reaper.  Bindroot magic on a dark moon feels good, both energizing and bloody, a dance of life lines and deaths strokes.

World Travel

Sunday, July 24, 2016


The worlds connect and interconnect beyond our usual realm of consciousness, separated by time, space, energy, matter, and will.  The darkness is alit by the cosmic soul, the laylines wrap themselves cross all things within and without this universe.  Those who leave their bodies travel there, following the false stars in the river of light.  The rays are not illusion, their destinations are. All that keeps you from getting lost is Thelema and Sophia.
When I leave my body, I travel along roots, not star paths.  Or maybe they're one in the same.  Down in the subterranean nursery, there are pinpricks of starlight; it's the light of other worlds peering through the soil, penetration along the darkness, leading up new roots to the other worlds.  The spirits guide those they want to along their ghostroads, their faeryroads, those lines that intersect in both the tangible and sacred.

Rat, mole, rabbit and snake spirit are my guides.  Mole pushes aside the soil and removes obstacles, she teaches one to see beyond the darkness.  Rabbit is swift, she guides me away from danger and keeps me keen on the dangers around me.  Rat spirit is industrious and social, and always gets me to the sabbat.  But Serpent Woman, she's very particular.  She only shows up when my soul needs to travel to some deeper world, where the beings, spirits, faery; they're horrible in their beauty, terrible in their monstrous wonder.  Deeper roots are where the snakes and worms lead, they're the messengers of Hekate and never get you lost.  There are old gods down here.  The river gods and bone women and those spirits that have never lived and are formless and beyond perception outside their worlds.

They say witches fly to the mountain, they swim to the grotto, they crawl through the ticket, they walk through the caverns that lead to the sabbat.  The sabbat is a place beyond here where witches go or meet with others, to commune with the spirits and gods, to barter and trade, or just to dance.  I bet most of us go for the dance, just to flirt with demons and drink the ichor of the old gods.  The road there is crooked and crisscrossed with crossed roads.  Getting lost is easy.

I think this is where most travelers and shamans and witches go, these other places connected in strange ways, connected to us yet totally foreign; otherworldy, extrademenional, higher planes.  Who knows what it is.  On a good DMT trip, you can reach it.  On a very good high you can reach it.  In the euphoria of passionate sex you can reach it.   Mediums of travel include  trance, chanting, dancing, drugs, ointments, thrill seeking-- but the quickest way are dreams.

Dreams are the most natural way, and probably the safest because your body will not betray you by playing too long in deaths garden. And that's what the trip is isn't it?  A death?   A small death in which you are reborn when you reemerge with deeper gnosis. We die, we travel, we return.  In dreams, this is a less risky ride but the answers are less predicable and tainted with the sticky attachments of the profane.  That's why you always take protection, have a friend and a backup plan.

What are your keys?  I wonder sometimes how others get back from the otherside.  In my youth I was taught there was no key, that the process needs to run its course and only getting back on your will was the key.  Now I understand the symbolism of keys during ritual.  Of course, I'm not talking about a literal key, I'm talking about an object that helps the traveler pass between worlds. I have prayer keys, an ebony staff and my necromancer's bones.  The keys get me in, the bones tell me where to go, the staff protects me.  I am recognized by the forms I take and the tools I make.  What are your keys?  A deck of cards?  A jar of votls?  A locket?  How do you travel? Where do you go?  How do you get back?

Dream Suffumigation

  • Poppy Seed
  • Blonde Amber
  • Balm of Gilead
  • Columbian Amber
  • Blonde Sandalwood

Dream Unguent

  • Sweet Almond Oil 
  • Hemp (highest thc) oil
  • Beeswax
  • Balm of Gilead
  • Lemon Balm

Dreaming Wine

  • Blue Lotus
  • Jasmine Flower
  • Wormwood
  • Moscatto

Oneiric Pipe Smoke

  • Wormwood
  • Mugwort
  • Catnip
  • Licorice Root
  • Indica keif

Dream Bath

  • Himalayan Pink Salt
  • Raw Cane Sugar
  • Epsom Salt
  • Lavender Oil
  • Rose Oil
  • Rose Water
  • Orange Blossom Water
  • Eucalyptus Leaf

Oneiric Tea

  • Kava Kava
  • Lemon Balm
  • Peppermint
  • Catnip
  • Dandelion Root
  • Jasmine Blossom

-Riverton Witch

The Garden of Greenhands

Sunday, July 17, 2016

 There aren't a lot of practitioners in Riverton anymore, but we all seem to dwell in the same woods and rivers and roads.  Me and my old woodsister like to pay homage to the old grounds when we go circling or wandering, the watering hole near the heart of the wood stands in a ring of trees, at the end of the ivy field, in the shadow of a great lighting struck bonewood tree.
If you want simples, the woods edge is where they grow best.  In spring, the meadows are ripe with wildflowers; bluebells, butterfly bush, hyacinth, skunk cabbage, bramble, hellebore, herb robert and more.
the goddesses garden is never picked from, only prayed in
and we who walk the hillside ripping roots know when to just appreciate the virid virgin's green hand.

© VIA HEDERA • Theme by Maira G.