| Florida Water Recipe |
[Feb. 9th, 2005|09:42 am] |
As promised to ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) bonemother many moons ago, a recipe for Florida Water:
One ounce benzoin gum
two ounces dried bergamont
3 ounces dried cinnamon bark;
add to two pints of 75-proof alcohol and let stand nine days.
Mind you, this is taken from the Ross Heaven book, so the accuracy is a little dubious.
(Memory prompt via The Sacred Cookbook of Abramelin the Mage) |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 7th, 2004|07:23 am] |
This morning: a pretty half-assed LBRP and ten minutes of meditation, which made me strikingly aware of the large energy blockage at the center of my chest. My cranio-sacral therapist called it "the sheild", since it is literally sheild-shaped and protects/blocks the central area of my breastplate, including my heart. That sucker is screwed on tight.
Frustratingly, I know the inciting incident that anchors the blockage, but not how to detach it. Cranio loosened it a little, but at $90 a pop, that route is out of my reach. Perhaps reiki? |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 4th, 2004|04:38 pm] |
Why do so many occultists feel the painful urge to design their sites with teeny white letters on a black background? Making information difficult to read is not the same as keeping it secret, folks. If you want to keep "mundanes" from dabbling in your ideas, then don't post 'em to the Internet.
Sigh. Anyway, following the lead of a BoingBoing.net article that mentions, of all things, the Voudoun Gnostic Workbook, I came across this review and this hypercube article, plus this voodootronics article which inspired the above rant. These are being posted for later reading, and may well prove to be crap. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 21st, 2004|12:35 pm] |
Yesterday I found an Ellegula head. I've been looking for one for several years now, but no luck before now. Further hints that I'm on the right track, or less-than-surprising coincidence, seeing as I was stopping into a botanica for hyssop and florida water? Either way, he's very cute, in a concrete lump head kind of way.
Feeling horribly stalled in all areas of my life except this one. Work is just meh; I'm sick of being a professional nag and taskmaster, tired of juggling so many little projects and racing to keep on top of things. The computer switch is still throwing me off, I feel like I need to hire someone to pay attention to my increasingly needy cat, and I'm not anywhere near to where I wanted to be at this point of my life.
Ah well. This too shall pass. |
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| Mostly research |
[Jul. 20th, 2004|02:40 pm] |
( Research: French Illuminati in Port au Prince )
I research in between tasks at work, and this is the most convenient place to store the results. Probably not of great interest, unless you've got a yen for Masonic lineages (which I really don't, to be honest).
This is insane, but in a potentially entertaining way. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 20th, 2004|10:47 am] |
Archived link: Allen Greenfield's record of Gnostic Voudoun workings, 1992-1996
Musings on what I'm shorthanding as Thelemic Voudoun are coming along nicely. I've decided to take Kraig's Modern Magick as a starting point on the ritual side, and Deren's The Divine Horsemen as the voudoun launchpad. Even if nothing comes of the system, it's a good focus for delving into the logic and structure underlying each of the systems, since trying to match across both is already demanding some mental acrobatics.
Starting with Liber Resh, since a small daily focal point is always valuable. My initial thought was Legba at sunrise, Ghede at midnight, but it doesn't really map out, since Legba (at least in the Haitian system) is an old man: late afternoon setting, rather than dawn rising. Also, the Liber Resh is strictly a Sun invocation; as such, I'm thinking it makes more sense to go with four aspects of Legba instead. Carrefoure for midnight, Legba Attibon for noon (perhaps), but I may have to look to the Santeria Orishas for a dawn/youth Legba aspect...
See what I mean? Pulling up enough detail on the Legba family to determine the right attributions may be outside the scope of research, and into the realm of diviniation, and other such dodgy tricks.
At any rate, things are coming together in way that suggests I'm on the right track, at least in a general sense. Stumbling across clues in strange places, time and resources freeing up, potent and repetitive dreams.
Most significantly of all, after more than a decade of hedging about and never quite finding the right note, I've stumbled smack into my motto. It's a precise summation of both past-path and future-focus, and it sums up nicely into an outdated girl's name: Avae. |
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| Gnostic Voudoun |
[Jul. 18th, 2004|12:17 pm] |
“Esoteric voudoo is the science of the orientation of the temple of consciousness, which you must create with your will, mind and imagination.”
- Michael Bertaiux, Voudoun Gnostic Workbook
Yes, I'm still holding out for the reprint, although my curiosity is peaked. More than that: my imagination is peaked. I suspect from my research so far that Bertaiux is overly attached to his convictions, which will frustrate my open-minded approach (much like the way I want to smack Christopher Hyatt every time he swings into his anti-Christian blinders). His structure seems heavily dependant upon Gheude, rather than balancing the loa, and the eight directions / spider thing has an element of testosterone power-grabbing that turns me off.
Still, the basic idea makes sense: voudoun is a syncretic religion that bridges the primal energies of the Yoruban etc traditions across the Western Catholic rites. Catholic rites are mostly a watering-down of Gnostic rites for consumption by the masses, at least as I see it, so if the Voudoun system maps well onto the "hermetic lite" structure, there should be a method of mapping it onto a more complex/complete version of that structure for enhanced results.
Which is mostly a round-about way of saying that something's got to give, on a spiritual level. I feel as if I've been standing still for far too long: my daily practice keeps falling away under the pressure of my lunatic schedule, and the lack of connection is starting to errode my faith and focus.
So, an experiment. What does a voudoun tree of life look like, anyway? |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 14th, 2004|04:12 pm] |
The past weekend bore a sensation I associate with consuming large quantities of low-grade chocolate: theoretically satisfying but ultimately disappointing, with a hollow quality that left me unsated and vaguely sorrowed.
Much of that comes down to the two sides of the 90% conversational element. Either people don't bother to ask how I am, or I'm stumped for a response when they do. I mean, I am fine, provided you discount the rushing creative highs that strike when a story is going well, and the near-crippling loneliness always hovering on the edge of my perception.
Luckily, most of them just don't ask. It makes me hate them a little bit more, but at least it skips out on the awkward pauses.
* * *
I am moon chasing sun, seeking the source of the light I reflect but can never quite catch. For brief moments we share the sky, but then I am a pale reflection, not really myself, and it never does last. I wax and wane through shadow and wholeness, always vestal, always pale with distance from my star.
* * *
I've bled once in the past twelve months, only once. Jumping from maiden to crone without the stop in between: all my children will be magical ones now.
My happiness for you is like the little mermaid's feet: it carries me into the world, it brings grace and light, song and wonder, but it daggers. |
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| Quick update |
[Apr. 27th, 2004|12:50 pm] |
Dream recall is improving, although I'm no closer to lucidity. It's definitely easier to recall and function within dreams when I'm not exhausted, but my recent schedule doesn't provide for enough sleep-time. Or enough any-time, for that matter: work is a problem that needs to be fixed, just need to find the key to maintaining income while devoting less hours to non-productive engagements.
I've decided to take up singing lessons - Opera Sara has offered to barter with me, although I think it might be easier to simply pay her, since barter will require doubling the time investment of the original lessons. The handfasting ritual last weekend made me realize that singing is something I'd like to be able to do better, both for enjoyment and for ritual work.
( John Lilly's Beliefs Unlimited exercise from Center of the Cyclone. ) |
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| Dream Journal |
[Apr. 7th, 2004|10:08 am] |
Since I recall dreams more strongly when I'm well-rested, I settled in early last night with a copy of Stephen LaBerge's "Exploring the World of Lucid Dreaming". Pre-sleep meditation on my desire to recall dreams resulted in waking four times over the course of the night: the first time, I didn't write anything down, and so that dream was lost, but the other three I made quick notes and was able to flesh them out with added details in the morning.
Strangely, bonemother appeared in two of those three recalled dreams, and I have an impression she was also in the first, missing dream. This is strange because, as much as I like and admire Bonemother, I don't really know her very well, or interact with her often.
But then, my hermit lifestyle means that I don't interact with many people very often.
Repeated pattern in all of my dreams: frustration over not being able to find what I need, but instead only finding things that are close but not right (shoes I want to buy in all sizes except mine, scraps of paper that have already been written upon). Had a vague sense near the end of each dream that it was a dream, but nothing approaching real lucidity just yet. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 6th, 2004|03:33 pm] |
Continuing to feel wiped out. Work is crazy busy but I just don't want to do any of the zillion tasks set out before me. I'm cranky and cold and I want chocolate, damnit!
Symptoms which point towards a mild depression of the "I want someone to take care of me" variety. Whiney and childish, yes, but there are moments when I just get so fucking tired of having to take care of every single detail myself. And I can't even talk about it, because then people jump up to insist that I can trust them to help... but saying you want to help is a billion miles away from actually helping, and I've yet to meet the person who knows how to effectively cross that divide.
My need is a black hole, somedays.
Last night I dreamt about lizards and watches: the lizards being used to sell the watches. Warning from my totem about how I've been spending my time (in pursuit of money)? Seems likely. |
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| Control and Precision |
[Apr. 5th, 2004|11:52 am] |
Precision: the Bolex is not a Reflex model. Until I started playing with it on Saturday, I didn't quite realize what that meant.
Non-reflex Bolexes do not allow through-the-lens focusing. Instead, you have to measure the distance from object to camera and work out the appropriate lens and focus settings based on a series of mathematics and guides. Initially I was dismayed, although on reflection I think this is the perfect challenge. I am prone to doing things in a sloopy, untechnical manner: ease-of-use means that I can bypass learning the detail of how and why things work, but that also deprives me of the motivation necessary to push my skills and understanding farther.
The camera goes away for cleaning on Wednesday, with hopeful return the following week.
Control: My chocolate and sugar consumption has been spiralling up towards absurdist levels over the past few months. I have slipped into the habit of starting my day with intense caffiene dosing, ending it with a chocolate feast in place of dinner. As a result, my energy levels are in perpetual flux and my body is cranking up the "not happy" signals.
As a result, I've started back on Atkins. I'm not really interested in losing weight, just kicking the sugar/caffiene crutch. Without the focus of a disciplined diet, it's too easy for me to indulge "just this once", without acknowledging that once=every night. There are some slight cravings, but I've cut back to half a cup of coffee already and the headache is minimal. I figure I'll give it a week and then re-evaluate if I'm happy with the process. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 2nd, 2004|09:42 am] |
Maya Deren on At Land:
"The universe was once conceived as a vast preserve, landscaped for heroes, plotted to provide them with appropriate adventures. The rules were known and respected, the adversaries honorable, the oracles articulate. Today the rules are ambiguous, the adversary is concealed in aliases, the oracles broadcast a babble of contradictions. One struggles to preserve, in the midst of such relentless metamorphosis, a constancy of personal identity."
I like this quote, although I object on two points: constancy of personal identity is less of a critcial goal than constancy of archetype, and the landscape hasn't changed, only our capacity to interpret and interact with it within that meaningful context. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 2nd, 2004|08:53 am] |
Watched House of 1000 Corpses last night, which completely fell flat for me: at no point did I give a damn about any of the characters, either good or bad, which made the film an exercise in dislocation.
Also watched two of Maya Deren's short films: Meshes of an Afternoon and At Land. The later was especially striking for me: I love Deren's disjointed narratives, although her editing is too distended for my hyperkinetic 21st century media velocity. It astonished me how often the shots, framing and narrative themes in At Land matched the footage I shot in Nevada/California last fall.
Also amazed at how creepy the mirror-faced figure in Meshes of an Afternoon remains after 60 years: far more disturbing than the overt gore of Rob Zombie's work, certainly.
Picking up the Bolex tonite: feeling a temptation to have the phrase "Speed Stop Focus Finder Motor" tattooed on my left inner forearm in white, but I know that's mostly because I'm itching for fresh ink, despite having no fixed ideas about what I really want. Aside from white, that is. All white: ghost spirals of almost invisible messages pressed into pale flesh. |
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| Ritual Object Dedication |
[Apr. 1st, 2004|02:07 pm] |
The real reason I wanted to keep this job: they play The Cure on the office stereo system. And not just any Cure, but old skool Cure. Faith-era Cure. I'm trading off about $6K a year for decent backgound music.
Yes, I am crazy. But I'm also right.
Picking up the new camera tomorrow night. Excited and nervous: hoping the camera is as functional as described, eager to start playing with it.
Also trying to figure out the right timeframe and techniques for consecrating the camera. Where does it fall into the elemental division of ritual objects: Air for Sword and the intellectual process; Water for Cup and the subconscious capture of flow through image; Fire for Wand, transformation of Will into Being through Action; or even Earth for Discs, the artifact of dream made physical. |
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| Musing on Cinema as Advanced Time Theory |
[Mar. 31st, 2004|11:41 am] |
24 frames per second becomes continuous motion under the human gaze, specific instants that we mistake for a connected flow. Animation forces the artist to consider all aspects of each moment, each frame carefully created and isolated as a distinct Now within the film's flow.
Julian Barbour models a universe where time is a function of perception, a misundertanding of the individual Nows that are in fact timeless and eternal. Change, not time, is primary.
Animation is the process of controlled change: each frame a slight shift, a minor modification which leads the audience to the illusion of time where it does not exist. Film as quantum modelling of the universe: an overlay of eternal Nows into a linear flow that can be dissected and rearranged at will through the process of editing. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 30th, 2004|05:14 pm] |
"More than anything else, cinema consists of the eye for the magic — that which perceives and reveals the marvelous in whatsoever it looks upon."
- Maya Deren
This camera was made in 1947 (based on the serial number), the same year that Deren began shooting the footage that would eventually be edited into The Divine Horsemen. And now, it's going to be mine.
Speed Stop Focus Finder Motor |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 29th, 2004|11:53 am] |
Mom bends over the roses with a hopeful gleam in her eyes, reading wedding invitations in the folded open petals. "Oh, are these from an admirer?"
"Yeah, me."
I've gotten more flowers from myself than I ever have from the men I've dated. Hell, I've given more flowers than I've gotten, if you count daisies drunkenly pulled up by their roots, petals and dirt mixed into the bedsheets in the morning.
Starting to let go of doing and focus more on being. If nothing else, my stress levels have reduced dramatically. Although I'm still dreaming about film non-stop, there's less failure and more just mucking around.
Posit: Crossing the Abyss is not a phase one passes through, but a state of awareness that one learns to integrate. Most people seem to approach the Abyss as something to be passed through to the "other side" where the Abyss does not exist, but that's a dualist separation of experience into Abyss and Not-Abyss. If duality is illusion, then the Abyss is perpetually present - and the processing of Crossing could more accurately be described as adding another layer to the hologram of your individual, known universe.
Being in public places has become increasingly disorienting over the past week. Unless distracted by conversation, I am frequently overwhelmed by a sense of connectedness, the lack of separation between my Self and the local Non-Selfs is disconcerting. Not telepathy or other parlour tricks: just a perpetual sense that there is no difference. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 20th, 2004|11:32 am] |
The more I remember about my dreams, the less I'm sure that I want to recall them clearly: it's all serial killers and failed film projects so far.
Also: eight and a half months. I'm starting to wish that I'd made that celibacy oath official, instead of just contemplated. At least then I'd have an excuse aside from lack of libido and interesting opportunities.
My Mom says I'm hot. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 19th, 2004|10:04 am] |
Aujourd'hui est St. Joseph Expression de la juridiction Legba: tonite's plans involve candles and carpentry, as appropriate. My Poppy (maternal grandfather) was a carpenter, and I traditionally honor him during Ghede work, but the father/carpenter connection seems like a nice linkage.
Besides, I miss my Poppy. Always.
Tomorrow is Legba Zaou, which traditionally involves the sarcrifice of a black goat. I could probably get away with giving Standley a ritual blow job, but I'm thinking the animal sacrifice would be a lot more appealing. Hrm... maybe there's somewhere in St. Laurence Market where I can snag some goat meat.
Finally got around to digging out the copy of Milo Riguad's Ve-ves: Diagramme Rituels du Voodoo from the Reference Library. I'd thought it was French-only, but the text is trilingual, with a couple of brain-bending essays on the geometric structure of veves. Also, someone has gone through the French text and added "corrections" and comments - going to have to brush up on my francais in order to assess their notes.
On a personal level: annoyed by almost everyone these days. |
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