High-Flying Witch

I'm constantly amazed at the talent in this world, and especially the talent among my Pagan friends. Laura Wyrd is an old colleague from my active days in Reclaiming Collective who now distinguishes herself as an aerialist, among other things. I don't know her well, but we always appreciated one another and we renewed our friendship at the Spiral Dance this past Samhain, where she invoked the element of Air from the high in the air. Here's a video of her recent work. Enjoy!

Statement re: Ethics & Boundaries

Some of my colleagues in Reclaiming and myself have come up with this statement which we now make public:

As a group of Witches who have all been active in Reclaiming for 10-25 years, we want to voice our concern at the new consensus reached which says that all Reclaiming Witch Camps are autonomous and can make their own decisions regarding drug and alcohol use, or sex between students and teachers.

We will not move to alter the consensus, but want to go on record as being against this new policy. We are not opposed to alcohol and drug use in private or non-ritual events, but we are against it in open rituals and Witch Camps. Reclaiming events often include transformative work in which people are already significantly altered, and it can be disruptive, even dangerous to add drugs and alcohol to the mix.

While we are certainly sex positive, we do not think it is wise for teachers and students to have sex at Witch Camps. Both parties have power, but there is also present a spiritual and psychological openness that can be easily manipulated by the person who has taken on the role of guide. We are against polices that allow for this possibility. Magic is not safe, but certain safeguards are still a good idea.

Anne Hill, Dawn Isidora, Deborah Oak Cooper, Fern Feto Spring, M. Macha NightMare, Medusa, T. Thorn Coyle

I signed this post not because I have any connection with Witch Camps, but rather because these stated policies are consistent with my feelings and belief. I choose not to involve myself in public Reclaiming activities, or in Reclaiming teaching, where these policies are not expressly agreed to ahead of time.

Gripes

I cannot be the only person who's sick to death of defining and redefining and going over the same stuff over and over and over and over again. This comes up particularly in the environment of Reclaiming (and CoG as well, for that matter), when topics have been discussed to death and then beaten some more, something more or less suitable has been written to memorialize the discussions, and then, lo! six months later that same topic comes up again like it's brand new, like no one ever thought of if before. Aargh!

This bears, to some extent, on what my friend Katrina claims is a lack of respect for elders, in the sense that elders carry the history. It also arises from people not bothering to learn their history or to care about whence they sprung. If you don't respect your ancestors and your heritage, and pay them the courtesy of learning something of their experiences and what they know, then what kind of movment are you?

WTF is Reclaiming? I don't know what Reclaiming is but I do know who I am, and that I practice a form of Craft that I clearly see as Reclaiming tradition, at least the trad as I learned it, helped to create it, and continue to practice it. Which is not to say that trads, or any other living thing, don't evolve, and that Reclaiming hasn't evolved or isn't evolving. But one might think that a good working description (as opposed to definition) might work in a general way, at least for a few years. Sheesh!

I'm just running this off the top of my head right now because of recent posts in various communities that have been irritating me. Obviously this is not a considered essay of any sort.

Am I just a crotchety old fart, or do you, dear reader, appreciate similar experiences?

Second question: why would I care? Why would anyone care?

Love Blooms in Cyberspace

I can't help crowing about this lovely turn of events. These two fine Pagans found each other in a class called "Call of the Dark Mother: Working with the Dying, Death, and Grieving," originally created and taught by me at Cherry Hill Seminary. Among many other things, they went on to found the Washington-Baltimore Pagan Clergy Association. They recently married. Long live love!


Angela Roberts and Michael Reeder

FAWR Launch

The official launch of the Foundation for the Advancement of Women in Religion took place tonight at the Grand Hyatt Washington Hotel. Lots of folks came and all appeared to enjoy themselves. The Pagan contingent was noticeably strong. It makes me happy to see Pagans supporting each other and supporting important projects. Please consider going to the website linked above and joining. It's not expensive and the potential for good work in the world is great.

Below is a photo of the Board members who were able to be there.


Ben Hamlin, Assoc. Exec. Dir.; Cyra Choudhury, Founder and Exec. Dir.; Jan Willis, and yours truly. Photo by Leslie M. Ortiz

AAR - Contemporary Pagan Studies Consultation

Note this is not the Conference on Contemporary Pagan Studies which precedes the AAR Annual Meeting. It the Contemporary Pagan Studies Consultation, an offical designation of the AAR, sponsored by the AAR and listed in the program.

More photos cuz it's 1:45 am and I plan to attend the New Religions Movements Group at 9 am. "Group" is the AAR's term for a more established area of study, while "section" is the big heavy.



Above, Murph Pizza reading her paper “The Fourfold Goddess and the Undying God: Anatomies of Minnesotan Bootstrap Witchcraft Traditions.” I might add that it was the folks of Paganistan (Minneapolis-St. Paul) who paid for Murph to get to the AAR so her papers could be heard. So huzzah for Paganistani Pagans for supporting their local anthopologist!!!!!



Laura Wildman-Hanlon on “Children of Converts: Generational Retention in the Neo-Pagan New Religions Movement.”

Conference on Contemporary Pagan Studies

I know I said I wasn't gonna post photos often, but I feeling proud and going by the old saw that a picture is worth 1000 words, so here's a photo taken today here in Washington, DC of our Cherry Hill Seminary presence at the second ever CCPS preceding the AAR Annual Meeting:


l-r, Michael York, Judy Harrow, Patrick McCollum, Macha NightMare, Laura Wildman, Murph Pizza, and Marion Mason. Photo by Sarah Whedon

Murph (Univ. of Wisconsin-Milwaukee) gave a paper called “Sharkey’s End: Paganism’s Public Challenge and the Limitations of Legitimacy in the Minnesota Twin Cities,” and Judy Harrow presented an utterly brilliant panel discussion with Amanda Wolfe of Georgia State Univ. on Paganism and the psychological establishment.

Reclaiming also had a strong presence, both among the attendees and within the context of papers read. Laura Zwissler, Univ. of Toronto, referenced Reclaiming in her paper, “Public Spirituality, Personal Religion: Pagan Activists and Political Community,” and SpiralHeart's Pam Turtle Detrixhe, Temple Univ., spoke on “Performing ‘Religion’ in Public: The Pagan Cluster at the Interfaith,” in which she spoke of Katrina Messenger.

Besides Macha (CA) and Pam (PA), other Reclaiming folks in attendance were Katrina (DC), Ishtar (NY), Endora (VT), Yarrow (VA), Grove (MA), Jone (Norway), Sarah Whedon (CA) and whoever else I may be missing.

My thanks to Cat McEachern for organizing the conference, and to everyone there for joining in this ground-breaking work.

I’m having so much fun!!!!!

How To Die

Friday night Patrick and I managed to meet to conduct some CHS business, socialize as friends are wont to do, and catch a theater piece together.

The theater piece was How To Die, by and with Keith Hennessey, Jules Beckman and Seth Eisen. How to Die is the second on a three-part series called MANIfesti-VAL, Dance Brigade's Festival for Social Change at Dance Mission Theater in San Francisco's Mission District.

I've been a fan, and distant friend, of Keith for many years. He's frequently, sometimes with friends, invoked God at Reclaiming's Spiral Dances as well as taught workshops to folks in the wider community and at WitchCamps. I admire his Circo Zero, and especially loved a production called Spell, which really was a spell, a pre-election spell in 2004, in which he collaborated with Krissy Keefer and The Dance Brigade, the fabulous Copper Wimmin, and the goddess Hekate.

I warned Patrick this performance would be edgy, and indeed it was. Inspiration for the piece arose from the endemic phenomena in the cities of this country of homelessness, so shameful in a society of abundance; AIDS; suicide; and tweakers.* Among the unusual amalgam of media used were photos of homeless men in the immediate neighborhood passed among the audience; recorded statistics about suicide, suicide by train decapitation in particular; helium voices and condoms; digital self-photos taken and then slide-showed on an iBook; strings of shiny CDs; dance and costume.

The intimacy of the Mission Dance Theater performance space lessened the separation between performers and audience, which I assume was what the creators desired and which is something I prefer.

Perhaps three techniques were most unique. The first was a bathing in a galvanized tub, using tattered underwear as washcloth, followed by the character standing on head and hands in the washwater for a seemingly interminable amount of time. I can say that throughout this performance, as disturbing as it was at time -- as it was intended to be -- the performers held every audience member captive.

Second, and perhaps strongest, was having the primary character literally strung out with a string across the entire width of the performance space through his septum.

Keith is known for pushing boundaries, going beyond 'normal' limits. Tweakedness, dancing, glitzy over-the-top costumes and mock intercourse were not unexpected, but I must say that I could have done without the many spotlighted displays of Keith's asshole. That's the third.

I know to expect strong statements and kick-ass displays. Keith's tendency towards exhibitionism is one of his greatest strengths as well as one of his weaknesses. Yes, it certainly commands people's attention, but is also tends to undercut his message somehow. I haven't quite figured out why that is.

No surprise, I saw a few Reclaiming folks in the audience, and Patrick encountered some people he knows from St. Mary's College. I spied Erik Davis in an upper row as we were filing out of the bleachers and wanted to speak to him, perhaps remind him that we'd met before at the launch of Modern Pagans at the SF Art Institute when I bought his Techgnosis and asked him to autograph it, not that he'd have any reason to remember me. Anyway, for whatever reason, I passed on that. I eventually got around to reading Techgnosis and loved it, and at SheShamans this past June I bought his most recent book, Visionary State (with photographer Michael Rauner). I've browsed the photos and read bits and pieces of it, but have not yet gotten into it with both feet (or eyes, I guess).

If the reader finds oneself in San Francisco at a time when Keith is performing, one would find attending a performance stimulating, thought-provoking, perhaps disturbing, certainly promoting of reflection, and hopefully well worth the effort.

(More of the promised SD postmortem anon.)

* From the program: "The following drugs are somewhat or very tweakish, i.e., chemical assistants to speed and multi-tasking: caffeine, sugar, Ritalin, prednisone, crystal meth, ecstasy (mdma is almost always cut with meth), mda, OxyContin, Wellbutrin, Prozac, Ephedra, Sudafed and anything contgaining ephedrrin/pseudoephedrine, Vicoden, Lorcet, Sustiva, Red Bull, and the many herbal speeds that are so comon now including ginseng, maté."

Colored Poppies & Election Celebration

I don't intend for this blog to be a photo album, but sometimes you just can't help it if you have something visual you want to document or show off. Today it's the latter. My left arm is just about completed; it may only get some minor touch-ups.

This first photo shows both arms, one with only the outline, as shown in a previous entry.

The second one shows the color, except that my skin is still traumatized and a bit swollen because it was only completed hours ago. At it heals, the shadings will become more distinct.

For the next little while, I'll be posting mostly words.

On a different matter, I'm really happy about the election results. Most of the candidates and propositions I voted for won. That's a novel experience for me, since usually my vote is the kiss of death. The Dems have the House; the Dems have the Senate. Nancy Pelosi is the first woman Speaker of the House and third in line for the Presidency. (Does that give you any ideas?) Now if the Dems would only show some spine. We need more than the few like Barbara Lee and Lynn Woolsey to speak for constituents of my sentiments.

More, we have the first Socialist Senator in many, many years. Of course, you've read all this a zillion other places, but I wanted to join the rejoicing.

Now it's time for the Greens, my party of choice, to elect people to fill local and regional offices, and work their way up the way the religious right did. We cannot afford the luxury of not being organized and well-funded.

Here's to universal health care, living wages, good educational opportunities for all, improved public transportation and other infrastructure, fewer jails and inmates, a more equitable division of wealth, clean water, clean oceans, clean air, sacrosanct wilderness, alternative energy sources, nutritious food for all (preferably locally grown and organic), and peace, blessed peace.

Vote Clean Sweep

Michael Moore urges voters to bring a broom and sweep 'em out of office. I did my part.

Photo taken at San Rafael, California by Corby Lawton.

From Peak to Pits

Honoring the Dead:

My day started out high from last night, when about 30 of us met on the hill to dance with the ancestors. It turned out to be a beautiful night, cold with a bright gibbous moon and wisps of clouds.

Starting with kEATH being an excellent gatekeeper, to Prudence’s witchy challenges and admonition to keep solemn silence, to the exquisite magic of those witchy voices (Corby, Pasha, Patti, Denise, Nicole, Maenam and whoever else I may be forgetting), the the purifications done so carefully by Juliana and Karen, to the partially lighted broken steps, courtesy of Kirk and Tansy -- no one had any accidents, thank the gods! -- to the welcoming and everything that came afterwards.

I loved the way people came together with salt and water in the absence of tools and supplies: plastic cup from someone, green tea, and flakes of salt and pretzel from a snack bag of pretzels.

I love the silent walk through the dark tunnel. I love the opportunity to sit in silence at the top of the hill while all, living and dead, gather.

This was the first time I heard every single name. I found myself leaning forward and listening intently to every soul Victoria called. The widdershins walk and chanting “what is remembered lives” fostered a trancelike state of mind.

I loved the silence while we communed with the dead before we danced the spiral beneath Moon and the swirling spiral of clouds.

The energy of that spiral dance Denise led, for me, was a sweet as they come. Utterly lovely, and loving.

I like seeing who actually turns up. If they don’t want to make the effort, they miss the magic.

This was the first year without Vibra; we missed her. I also missed due to last-minute crises in their prison ministries, Patrick and Barbara, for whom this is the only ritual of the year they have no responsibility for and can simply surrender to.

Surprise Package:

So when the doorbell rang today and the UPS man delivered a surprise package, I was in a good mood to receive whatever it was. It turned out to be a five-volume series of religious studies textbooks called Introduction to New and Alternative Religions in America, edited by Eugene V. Gallagher and W. Michael Ashcroft. British scholar and eco-Pagan Adrian Harris and I co-wrote a piece called "New and Alternative Religions in the United States: Ritual and Neopaganism" in the volume entitled Metaphysical, New Age, and Neopagan Movements." I note that several other colleagues from the Nature Religions Scholars Network have also contributed. I must say it's a heady feeling to be in a textbook. This is my first text contribution, other than encyclopedia entries. I'm working on another for a high school textbook now.

Perhaps I'll finally meet Professors Gallagher and Ashcroft at the upcoming American Academy of Religion Annual Meeting later this month. I know I'll finally meet Adrian face to face.

Ending in Sorrow:

Yesterday in my fit of Hallows posts, I scanned a photo of my paternal grandparents. I also emailed it to several family members, including my cousin Gerry Gregorio. Gerry and I had recently renewed our close childhood friendship -- there was never any falling out, just poor correspondents and life getting in the way. She still lives in the same town where our grandparents and fathers lived all their lives, Moorestown, NJ, across the Delaware River from Philadelphia. Last November her husband Joe brought her to Philadelphia for a brief visit at the hotel when I was there for the AAR. She had been suffering from colon cancer. She put on a brave face, but I could tell that the visit was taxing her. It was clear that Joe was devoted to her. We had fun catching up, we took some photos, and then I lost my camera later that night. That was the last time I saw her.

This evening I received an email from Gerry's daugher, Nicole, telling me that Geraldine Frances O'Brien Gregorio had passed away on September 17th. In the confusion of grieving and making arrangements, the family had forgotten to notify the few of us here on the West Coast. Here's a photo of her taken last May with daughter Nicole and grandson Chaz at the latter's confirmation.



I'm very, very sad she's gone. I didn't have her name to call last night. I'll dance with her next year.

What is remembered lives.

Summoning the Ancestors

Summoning the Ancestors

M. Macha NightMare
© Samhain 2005 C.E.

Oh, mighty, many, myriad Ancestors, as we spiral in and out of time, we call to you.

You who first stood upright and walked the savannahs of Africa.

You who explored the inland waters of all the continents in curragh, canoe and kayak.

You who ventured out onto the open sea in triremes, galleons and long ships. You who crossed the middle passage in the bellies of slave ships.

You who learned to read the stars, to harness the trade winds, to ride the oceans’ currents.

You who followed the reindeer and caribou beneath the Northern Lights. You who swept across the Great Plains with the thundering bison.

You who climbed mountains with goats, hunted with dogs, worshipped cat and crocodile, monkey, ibis, bear and eagle.

You who rode great distances on the backs of animal allies – the horse, the camel, the elephant.

You who gathered in the wild rice. You who planted wheat and corn, beans and squash, orchards of olives and apples. You who found the precious seeds that give us chocolate, dark and rich.

You who kenned the healing properties of vines in the Amazon jungle, of roots and barks and mushrooms in the deep, dark forests, and of the flesh of cactus in the burning desert.

You who spun flax and wool, gifts of field and sheep, into garments both cool and warm.

You who shaped clay into pots; dug ore from Earth’s depths and pounded metal into tools; painted cave walls.

You who clustered in the Fertile Crescent, in Sumer and Akkadia, erected cities and wrote laws.

You who built the Great Wall of China, the great pyramids along the Nile, the great passage graves in the Boyne Valley.

You who fashioned flutes from reeds, and drums from skins. You who danced and rhapsodized.

You who brought us every gift, it is your DNA that thrives within our bodies tonight. We thank you, dear Ancestors, and we bid you welcome.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

For your use, if you choose.

My Irish Grandparents

This is a photo of my paternal Irish grandparents. I never knew my grandfather, Edward Joseph O'Brien, because he died before I was born. He was born into an Irish immigrant farm family in Moorestown, New Jersey.

My grandmother, whom we called Mom-Mom, was Kate Reilly from Ballinasloe, Co. Galway, Ireland. An orphan taken in with her siblings after her parents' deaths by her mother's sister Una, who already had a houseful of kids to feed, Mom-Mom came to Moorestown when she was about 19 or 20 under the sponsorship of a loving Quaker family. She served in their household until she worked off the cost of her passage.

Her sisters and brothers went to Philadelphia and Pittsburgh, PA, and to Australia. Kate married Ed and together they had nine children, six girls and three boys. My father was the second boy, but one of the youngest children, just before John and Catherine, both of whom had bright red hair and freckles. My dad took after the black Irish side, with that light creamy skin and dark hair and eyes.

Although Mom--Mom was old and wrinkly and frail when I knew her, I always felt close to her and felt I resembled her a bit. She grew up speaking Gaelic. I often asked her to teach me, but she never did. They were nice Roman Catholics who probably preferred to assimilate.

What is remembered lives!

That Quote I Mentioned

Versions of this sentiment have arisen in many conversations with Sparky and Steven over the years. It's now been set down. This is accurate according to my conversation with Sparky today:

Whether we are creating a ritual, writing a poem, or building an altar, the point is to honor the gods and not to stroke our own egos. Then our priorities will be properly in place and we will generate worthy art.

~ Steven Posch and Sparky T. Rabbit

I intend to keep this in mind whenever I do sacred work, and it is with this in mind that I critique the Spiral Dance in past and future posts.

Spiral Dance and Other Samhain Press

Here's a fine article about the Spiral Dance, written by a reporter who is brand new to Pagan ritual. It features photos of Lauren Raine's glorious goddess masks embodied. I created a fine ritual employing 13 of these masks several years ago, performed at PantheaCon and later in a more refined form at New College. I have use of these masks should another opportunity and sponsor present themselves.

And here's another interesting series about Halloween by some young writers in Vermont.

My friend Victoria writes movingly about her experience in the center of the spiral when I offered her arms to a mother who wanted to dance but was holding her a sleeping baby

Blessed Samhain!

SD Postmortem -- Altars

As always, the altars were beautiful. The Quarter altars were in different places than they were last year; guess someone used a compass.

Teri Compost, Mallory and others erected their usual glorious North altar in memory of all our Beloved Dead but specially dedicated to the woman who created the original North altars, Judy Foster. I had brought my big copper pentacle made by Yuri Toropov years ago, and its stand. This pentacle has featured in many a SD North altar.

I was perplexed to see one with a big Latin cross or crux ordinaria on it until I saw upon closer viewing that it was an altar in memory of those who've died crossing the U.S.-Mexican border.

Last year saw the first altar to the unborn and newborn deaths: miscarriages, stillbirths, abortions, etc. Suzanne Pullen initiated the practice of having such an altar last year, and boy! is it ever important! So many women were moved by it last year that it had to have its own on-duty priestess. I know it has been an important part of her own healing. This year she spoke a "Blessing of the Babies, alive and dead."

Ivory Fly and friends did another Fire/South altar this year. Last year Ann Flowers from England made herself invisible and controlled the magic technology that made smoke issue from the volcano on that altar.

The only problem with the altars, all of them, is one that can, and hopefully will, be remedied in the future. That's one of lighting. No candles or other open flames are permitted in the building. Many altars were strung with garlands of holiday lights in different colors, but they didn't offer sufficient illumination to make the altars really stand out. I hope future altar builders will consider more lights and maybe using those cool new battery-operated votives and tea-lights.

Spiral Dance '06 Postmortem, Part I

Let me preface this entry by saying that it's gonna end up being several entries. I have too much to say to say it all at once. I want to be as honest as I can be, while knowing that many people I love may feel criticized. I hope that they can appreciate that even though I may seem caustic, I am saying what I'm saying out of love. I'm speaking from my heart as well as from my mind. I don't love them any less or more just because I may sound critical. I strive to hold us to higher standards.

My friend, ritualist, songwriter and performer Sparky T. Rabbit in Illinois has often said to me: "If it's worth doing at all, it's worth doing well." And "Does your ritual work honor your gods?" Everything I say concerning the Reclaiming's annual Spiral Dance Samhain ritual is said with these in mind.*

I attended the 27th Spiral Dance ritual on Saturday night. I had a small role proclaiming the feast. This is something I usually like to do and do rather well, if I say so myself. It's a beautiful piece written by Starhawk and modified just a wee bit over the years by Robin Weaver and myself. The last time I delivered it was in 1992, the last time, I think, the ritual was performed in the SF Women's Building. I remember its being a good one. Those I remember as being good are rare, and have gotten rarer as the years have past.

Last year the organizers rented a smaller venue, Kezar Pavilion, a basketball stadium with a very, very, very live floor. It's much homier. Last year's ritual took a 180-degree turn from exhibitionistic spectacle to community celebration. It's that spectacle part that I've felt so uncomfortable with. For me, Samhain is not the time to show off, even if you do invite the pubic; it's the time to honor our Beloved Dead. It's the time to mourn the loss of our loved ones, to share our grief, to have our losses acknowledged and respected with and among our larger chosen Craft kin.

Because of this emphasis on spectacle, some of my more cynical friends have taken to calling the Spiral Dance the "Spiral Dance du soleil." I think the term is apt, or at least has been apt when applied to many performances of the basic rite. It seems that some organizers adopted the bigger is better notion so prevalent in the overculture. That's not a way I've ever viewed my religion. I don't think it's for everybody. I'm happy to welcome people who choose this path. I'm happy to offer teaching, guidance, counsel, feedback, whatever. I even rejoice in my religion. I'm as proud and enthusiastic as the most zealous of the newly converted when asked about Witchcraft and Paganism. But I don't expect everyone to be and I don't expect everyone to resonate with it, and I don't want to be in anyone's face or convert the masses. I think people can share our values, such as a recognition of our interconnection with all of life on this planet (and probably beyond), our obligation to steward our precious resources, from whatever religion they find comfort in. They don't have to be Pagans in order to appreciate the mandate to care for our Earth. We all breathe the same air, drink the same water, rely on Earth's riches for our food.

The Spiral Dance has for many years experienced what I liken to an identity crisis. It doesn't know if it's a ritual, a political rally, a circus, or a rave. It has had elements of all four, and has done no single one well. For some years, the SD saw giant puppets, stilt-walkers, people twirling fire batons, people on trapezes or coming down from the girders of Herbst Pavilion on ropes. Now these are all fun and interesting things to watch, very entertaining. But are those who perform them being priest/esses? Some perhaps are. Others have been hired for their particular performance skill, have left the ritual after they've been on, and I cannot think that they've considered their participation anything along the lines of priest/essing, or helping to move and shape the energy of the whole. (The notion of "priestess/ing" requires another tome. Suffice it to say that here I mean performing sacerdotal roles.)

Last year, however, a different crew took on the task of planning the ritual. Although I was invited by two of the main organizers to participate, there was miscommunication between one of those individuals and the cell, as the planning group is known, that resulted in my not participating at that level. I was, however, asked to invoke the Ancestors, the Mighty Dead of the Craft, and the Beloved Dead, who were not being individually named that year. A daunting task, I thought.**

I was pleased with how I met that challenge. I think I did right by them (the Ancestors, the MD, and the BD). I loved the whole ritual, nearly every little part of it. And believe me, I'm known to be quite the evaluator of ritual, not always a good way to be known.

In any case, I had hoped this year would improve upon last year. Both last year and this year I tried to persuade some of our more alienated kin to attend. Some did; most didn't.

* * * * *

* I may be misquoting slightly, so as soon as Sparky calls me back I'll correct these to read exactly as he says them. Steven Posch also says this. I have so many lively conversations with both of them about Witchcraft, Paganism, scholarship, ritual, gods, ancestors, and the like that I may have run together who said what. I'll clarify who said what and how and make corrections in a future post.

** Not calling the Beloved Dead by name is also fodder for another long exposition.

El Dia de Los Muertos Altar

I took this after a Dianic coven's Samhain ritual last night at Victoria's house. This altar stands in her shared courtyard, where neighbors and friends add to it. I took several shots without flash, but I don't have a sophisticated enouch camera, or maybe a sophisiticated enough photographer, to have gotten much detail and all you can see are the flames in the novena candles.

Here's a darker one:

Triple Goddess

This is one of my favorite photos. Taken by the late Ken Willard either before or after, but not during, the Spiral Dance in San Francisco's Women's Building in 1982, it features Sequoia as the Crone, an eight-months-pregnant Cerridwen Fallingstar as the Mother, and the Maiden will remain unnamed because I suspect she's in the broom closet back in her home state in Dixie.

This year the Spiral Dance number 27 is in Kezar Pavilion, a basketball stadium in the Haight-Ashbury District with an incredibly live, bouncy floor, a delight for dancing. I'll be proclaiming the feast.

Global Orgasm Spell

On December 29, 2002, a chilly (for these parts) Winter day, Corby and I participated in a project called Baring Witness for Peace. We were among many local folks who stripped and posed for photos on Drake's Beach.



I'm the last woman on the far right of upper part of the final "E" in PEACE. By the time we women were photographed by the photographers on the cliff above us, the tide was turning and my skin was being lapped by the income surf.

Corby is the man on the vertical just above the upside-down "V" of the peace symbol.

Friends and I have posed in a couple more shots, most recently "VOTE" on Love Field in Point Reyes Station in July 2004, when Victoria and Prudence and I drove out together. I'll let you guess where Victoria and Prudence are; I'm on the top of the "E" again.



Now our friends at Baring Witness have come up with another of what we Witches might call a "working." Global Orgasm on December 22, 2006. Join us!