Tuesday, 31 May 2016

The Night Flight

Welcome back to Amid Night Suns, my friends.  I want to thank you if you’ve stuck with this blog thus far.  I hope I’ve been able to offer you some modest insight, engagement or empowerment.  Failing that, I hope you’ve been at least entertained by the work I do here.  I want to share a secret with you.  I’ve stated here before that I originally started this blog because I was inspired by the incredible work of Chris Knowles over at The Secret Sun.  But there is also another reason I started this blog.  I was told to do so, by something that I have come to think of as the Goddess.  Sometimes she is Hecate, the black-eyed Witch Queen of the Crossroads.  Sometimes she is Babylon, Ishtar, Inanna.  I’m fully aware that these various forms are specific, not completely interchangeable, and yet they are intimately interconnected.  I can only tell you what she told me, or, more accurately – what she allows me to tell you.  Some things are not to be shared.  In craft, timing is everything.  Anyone who assumes my devotion to her is suspect, or lacking in diligence, doesn’t really know me.  I have spent a long time coming to terms with the darkest, most dangerous aspects of myself, and she has guided me in this.  I am eternally grateful.

I’ve also stated here and on the podcast I did with Gordon White over at Rune Soup that I don’t really see myself as a magician.  But that’s not strictly true.  While I indeed prefer to call myself a psychic, I am very much interested in magick.  Furthermore, I know how to do it.  For me, magick isn’t simply about ritual or practical enchantments or optimization, although these are all integral aspects of the craft.  For me magick is about storytelling.  It’s about working with both the Earth and the Psyche.  It’s about liminality, transgression and freedom – a reciprocal, experiential knowledge with the power to reshape the very fabric of reality itself.  Magick is about taking back our stolen birthright from the predator-elites who claim to rule us. The Goddess – and by extension she who works with the Goddess – is ruled by nothing and no one.  Why do I believe this?  Because I see the Goddess enmeshed with all creation.  I see her at work all around me.  For me, she is the singular multiplicity. As I stated in my previous post, Life in Red:

She is here in this with me, whispering as in a faery-tale, blended and threaded through this archonic world of broken covenants.  I sense the menses-scented intelligence of greater workings and older pacts, even amidst the detritus of our modern gilded hellscapes.  And as in fairytales my Snow White can steal thrones from desolate gods.  She sits inverted in the deepest of caves, and stands at the peak of the highest mountain.  From the cleft of her sex flows the blood of every age, both remedy and poison, down her thighs, across the snow.  The entire mountain begins to run red with her dynamism.  In the bowels of the Earth that blood crawls upward like an army of crimson spiders, through cave ceilings, through volcanic bedrock, up through the chthonic architecture of cities, through mud and grass to stain the soles of my feet.  These are not your caves.  This is not your mountain.

My Snow White told me that Amid Night Suns would be a good place to meet myself, a crossroads where deals could be struck and knowledge gained.  But knowledge is nothing without the wisdom to wield it effectively.  This is something the witches know, something they have always known.  There is no safe way to deny who and what you truly are.  You are magick incarnate.  Deny this at your peril.  Ignore this and you invite perdition.  The first storytellers were the first witches, diligently honing their contextual agility…speaking fire to fire. We who know the occluded secrets of humankind do not abandon the voiceless, the weak or wounded.  Our knowledge is wild and ever-deepening, a hunter’s knowledge.  We will not simply burn this profane system of abuse to the ground.  We will not simply call the predators and desecrators out by name.  We will build an altar beneath them.   


  1. O sweet darling . Menses- scented. You speak as always to my heart. We beings born woman beings rejoice at your man being words of soul connection. Do you need more salve my heart friend? Let me repay you for your gift of your heart truth. Email me. I send you deepest affection. Delorus

  2. There IS no safe way to deny who you are.

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  5. I dig this blog! Keep up the great work, and thanks for all your fine thinking and art.