Metal, dirt, and then… Rain.

This post is liable to change from now into tomorrow. My phone went dead during the night, so many pictures will be late in coming. 

I have been able to have time to make my waking devotionals and rituals, which had been rejuvenating to say the least. The smell of rich herbal water on the face has been wonderful! I haven’t been able to have this schedule in years, and my gratitude has no words. 

My forge shrine to Daughter of the Bear- The Smithy

I finished the axe head, and I am carving the handle as I type this. So, as soon as I am done I will post pictures. I am testing a small hatchet with neighbors tomorrow, so I will see how my axes handle actual labor.

The handle is coming…

I didn’t know hickory would be such a pickle to carve, that or I am very out of practice. I will persevere, regardless. I am not sure if I will paint, stain, or just wood burn the handle yet.

The sickle-shaped knives cut beautifully, right through my glove. I tried to take a picture, but…

The focus is not strong with me…

Despite three rain showers, I will keep working for an hour more (Or until my neighbors say something). I will keep adding here, as things progress. 

I am debating on just re-opening my Etsy store, because my traded leather is still regretfully in transit. I don’t want to just sell the blades alone, seems odd to do so.

Before I started, I cast the bones for advice. I was shown, that “I need a mentor.” Well, I had been debating on fabrication classes at the college, but an old dog can always learn new tricks. So, tomorrow I will drive over there.

Well, back to things.

Well, it cuts through stalks and leather easily.

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Breaking Away

So instead of getting on with things… Life happened. I had to break completely away, and cut ties, in order to catch up to myself. 


However, I managed. Also, I have tried once again to reach out to local Pagans. It… Didn’t go so well. Many Pagans cannot handle the real, and often gray, reality that occultism is intertangled with. I was called aggressive, intimidating, shady, obtuse (kinda okay with that one), and of course: dark.

I was banned from a few online groups, because working with bones is ‘macabre.’ 

I have seen how… Campy? Childish? What word would describe the mainstream lines of… Is it Paganism anymore? Since when did anime, and cartoons become a way to express trance work? It’s almost an insult; onto itself. 

I stepped out of the online world for three months because, well, I was stunned how far the umbrella had flown. I have tried those ‘apps,’ in the gamestore. I would rather sit on my backyard stool in silence; than try that again. The Heathen Amino app seems more level headed, but still.

Even in conversation, one must be positive, PG 13, and clean. Even mentioning smoking, drinking, or drug use (besides marijuana) is sneered upon. What happened?

One Amino user spoke to me, ” Hey, you’re old school. That’s not cool anymore. Bones are bad, you’re wrong for using them.”

Wait… What? When did any bone worker… ‘Use bones?’

So, I have really said what I want to say on that. Otherwise, I may get heartburn.

As for me, I have been building my inventory, and tomorrow I will finish some trance inspired items. I will no longer make pouches, wands, or jewelry. It seems there is an abundance of that online already. So, knives, swords, an axe or two, bladed ritual tools, sickles, and the like are being put together. 

I have made several devotional Seelen Perlen, or ritual beads. Counters, both a talisman and amulet, and a ritual tool in its own right. 

When this was called ‘dark,’ I started shaking my head.

Some of these will be up for sale. I am attempting to make even smaller ones.

Also welcomed some new additions, and I am out gathering wild plants for rauchstocks.


Just getting started.

A utility knife, that is bound in water proof rubber.

Male Bear Skull, and a Canine Skull

My Seelen Perlen

Tomorrow is going to be a massive day, full of forging, carving, sharpening, and leatherwork. The eclipse is not too far off, and I aim to meet it.

Ferdtide is coming. It is a warrior/ Veteran day of honor. Also, it is when I celebrate the birth of the Divine Twins, Daughter of the Bear – The Smithy, and Her brother/ Husband The Ploughman. I think it a most potent time as it occurs beneath the eclipse itself. 

Then, of course Herbst is just after that. Sigh. I don’t know if I will catch up with myself. It is good to be busy, and productive. My fictional novel was published (The Odyssey of Ojea). So tomorrow’s post may simply be pictures, and I apologize for that. Onwards!

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Coming in November…

Firing up the forge. But this time, there will be less leatherwork, save for sheaths. Maybe a pouch or two. Just, not as much as before.

I am in the works of axes, short spears, edged ritual tools, and other metalcraft. I have my molds to make bowls, spoons, and jewelry. I have my sand, so let my casting begin!

There will be stainless steel, iron, brass, copper, and pewter jewelry. Silver knives, copper knives, and steel axes. I may make a mallet or two, with carved handles. We’ll just see how far I get in a month.

Old projects set down before, now being picked up where I left off. Got a brand new dremmel, and I blessed my forge for the forging ahead.

Ritual mirrors, iron bowls, horseshoes… All sorts of metal will be up for sale in my Etsy store by November. If you have requests, let me know.

For now, the forge is still going. Time to get back to work!


Getting some things done. My next series of projects will not be typical knives, but edged ritual tools.

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It is now autumn, and the season of the dead begins anew. I was blessed to have the day off to celebrate, and for that I am also thankful. I began my day with hanging citris in my window, chanting to keep illness away. My house smells wonderful.

After, I began to prepare my last meal with my adopted bear cub.

I roasted bison, after searing it for flavor. It was delicious. Along with nuts, fruit pies, home made stuffing, and mashed potatoes, I had a hearty meal for one.

I prepared the pyre to send the adopted cub home. For the second time, can use the rauchstocks for their intended purpose. I love this!

And when it was ready:

 I sat down and dined with the Gods, spirits, and Ancestors. Selig Herbst!

Then, after procession through the house singing farewell songs, I set the cub onto the pyre. I had soaked the pyre with herb infused vodka, and away the cub went.

Farewell little cub! Speak well of me!

The air filled with the scents of cedar, native sage grass, wormwood, elm, cinnamon, anise, sweet grass, and chamomile. The smoke enveloped my entire house, it was wonderful. 

I sat next to it, and as the sun was setting I sent the cub back to the Bear Mother.

After, I headed inside for some Fate work.

I warded my house and home anew for the new season ahead. 

And so, the remainder of my day will be spent in divination, to see what lies ahead in the dark. I hope all of you have a wonderful evening filled with good news, good company, and good food!

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Round and round we go…

Boy, it’s… Been. 

I have changed, one night in February, after my sacred feast, I went into trance. Once there, the Bear Mother proceeded to rip me to shreds. Then, I blacked out. 

When I came to, I was on my floor in my bone room with a bloody nose. I felt different. The room was still, the candles were still burning as stumps, no noise. It took the rest of my weekend to feel somewhat normal again. The tiles in my ceiling fell in, and I looked around wondering…. What just happened.

I felt like a cold soda can fresh from the vending machine.

So, a week later I venture forth again. I found out, my kith was changed. It is now a weasel. I am still to this day adjusting, and the permanence of this is hitting me quite hard. We’ll see how this goes.

I moved. I live in town now, with a nice private area to work outside. I planted a backyard garden, and blessed a skull to The Ploughman to guard it.

So, after I gave the rites to The Ploughman, my yard went from dirt…

To the frakkin’ Jungle Book. Baloo? Mogli? Ya there?

My landlord was stunned. Well, that’s The Ploughman for you. That, was two day growth. Just… Boom.

So, my bone room is running nicely. Lost a bone on my book yesterday after my outside Work, sigh. On my conjure table is my bone box, for my mink. It works superbly well.

Made my Nothing Post, or Niding Pole. One name is already there, I really hope it doesn’t grow in numbers. We will find out, one way or another. Sadly, knowing how folks are… Probably.

Learning a wonderful wind instrument. It works well in dealings with the weather. Unless… The Avian Lord gets angry. And plus, Zelda yo.

Yes, for two months my area was racked with tornadoes. He was pissed, livid. I heard the sirens in my dreams. I tried with mink to find out why, but his angry silence prevailed. One night, while bunkered down and the angry winds screamed, a flash of lightning hit my eyes and a quick image showed itself. I saw a pool of blood, and feathers. I hadn’t a clue what it meant at the time, but I was sure as shit going to find out. 

I asked around, and a rumor of a couple visiting parks at night (The Avian Lord’s time), and taking a machete to the geese and putting them in the trunk to take home. Geese, are one of His sacred creatures. I informed several officers, and from what I hear they were caught weeks later. Now, the weather is rain, with some flooding in the region. I don’t know if my part did it, but his rage is in fact lulled. I’m glad it wasn’t me that angered Him. Phew. 

Firing up the forge again now that the angry thunder isn’t forcing me to bunker down. Been wanting to scratch that itch for some time!

And, in my new home and new town I met a very different kind of spirit of the place. A cricket spirit, that was happy I was in the area. Spooked me at first, because I have learned that many spirits who are nice right up front have talons hidden beneath. But, after being here for some months, she actually is a nice spirit. Huh. How rare is that?

So, it would appear that I am in an alright place, as long as people can stop murdering park animals. Hunting is one thing, this was just bizarre.

And I have a lovely fire pit that I can use my rauchstocks with. This fire was to cleanse the pit from its origins. On Litha I was able to cook all of my food on the sacred fire, and had a very sacred meal. 

So, there you have it. I hope I get time like this to blog again, it would seem They are giving me a much needed reprieve. And, I am going to soak it up like a dry sponge, this go-round. Now, if you shall, I am off to play my ocorania. 

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My Folk Magic

I have been reading some blogs, and my brain is whirling. What is my own magic in actual words?

It is my ritual blacksmithing, the chants and work that I do to create ritual tools, knives, spears, and now hatchets. Once my freight arrives my metalworking will be taken to a new level. It is my ritual powders that I use to work with the world around me, inhaling my sacred smokes and sharing them with my Ancestors, feeding my Artificer that works with me and protects my home. It is the coffin nails imbedded in my Nothing Post, whiskey imbued with mugwort, wormwood, and mullein stalks to drink with the wandering dead. It is my ritual beads being used in chanting as I walk down the street, of visiting forgotten crossroads by the light of the stars above me. It is the art of being primal in a country setting, on the fringe of society – tucked out of the way.

And even that doesn’t cover it. My brain will be swirling for a bit on that. Such a simple question cannot be so simply answered.

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Emerging from the Madness

Well, it has been pure madness. New career, new schedules, new people met. The month was a whirlwind, and now that I have a moment to myself, I figured I would update this blog. Much has been happening lately.

I have been studying Uert, or fateful weavings in my reality. Divination, and trance work to follow the tender web. Realizing the in-depth correlation between myself and the wider world has been illuminating. I am not some small person, but one strand made of many connected to theirs. One action can upset the web, and sitting still can be thunderous.

Looking into the web also showed me how much I have left to re-balance my own Uert. It is the most permanent way to change your luck; however one’s end fate cannot be altered. You can change how you get there, but you will end up there. There is much interaction and one can change the shape of the web, but the final Uert is just that.

The final cleaning of my new skulls is nearly complete, and I will be welcoming my new additions. I am prepping my old temple room and turning it into a proper Bone Room, complete with full rennovations. And, I couldn’t be more thrilled. Working, working, and more working. It’s going to take some time, but I am fixing the problems in my life. Finally.

Finished many projects:


Finished another knife, and it’s extremely sharp. The temper on it took wonderfully.


Finished another chain, and I really like it.


My ritual beads, with the addition of the songbird foot.

Got more earned tattoos. I earned them in previous years, but I was unable to get them until this past month. So, on the Cold Moon of January I sat on the bench, and had those sacred prayers inked into my skin.

IMG_0973IMG_0972Sorry but the content of them will be kept private.

And on the eve of February, as I did in October I did here, but with His fair lady, Daughter of the Bear. I feasted on eggs, steamed vegetables, fish, and offered milk, honey, sugar, red wine, and tobacco. I drummed at sunrise, and searched for any heralds of spring: the rabbits. Sadly, I did not see any foretelling of a long winter.


Hail to the Sacred Smithy! Shine on Daughter of the Bear!

IMG_1008IMG_1010I blessed my new seeds that I will be planting in March, and I played my harp in tribute to Her. I hope your spring is fruitful, bright, and pleasant. Hail to the Daughter of the Bear!

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Rauhnact/ Yuletide

My Rauhnact was spent in solitary fashion; quiet and peaceful. I had a few gifts to open, and time to myself.

Rauhnact means “Rough Nights,” and it is the darkest night (we all know) of the year. The Bear Mother gives birth during these nights, as the winds howl in her stirring. They will rise at the New Year at Ostern. The Antlered Weaver turns to Huntress of Souls, as it is the apex of the ‘Season of the Dead,’ of which Her hunt rides in it’s fury. I spent time with family and friends, which equated to quite a bit of driving. While I did not want to be outdoors, I didn’t want to be anti-social (though I am). It is a twelve night celebration of gifts, merry-making, laughter, and story-telling.


Fumes of yarrow, pine, cedar, lavender, and chamomile filled my home.

It was a night of oracles, divination, and I dined with my Ancestors. I laid out my prognostication for the next twelve months for weather predictions, and I lit my tri-wick candle (because I am still without a fireplace sadly).


Bones and Beloved Dead.

I dined on slow-roasted duck, steamed vegetables, and mashed potatoes (I was by myself mind you), and I saved the heart for future workings. The duck was filled with a cranberry, hazelnut, and chestnut stuffing. I did my best to play ‘Hock,’ which is an old game of stacking hazelnuts.

I donned my bearskin, and put on my ritual attire besides, and Sannion would’ve been proud of the estatic dancing I did around my house to the beat of my drum, long into the night.

Offerings were given: butter to the Midnight spirit to prevent mischief; Red Wine to the Huntress of Souls, Cream for the wandering souls, saltless bread for the returning dead, and milk for the Good Neighbors.


Offerings were blessed and set outside. This is a terrible picture, you can’t see all of them!

I blessed my house and home, from summit to stay, base to ceiling beam – and the combination was done in two stages, of which the second (done with bones) I didn’t feel comfortable taking a photo of.


Steeped rosemary water, Florida water, yes I had a tad of ‘bluing’ to it, and three oils. Spread by a freshly cut pine sprig.

My Rauhnact isn’t over. There will be another post soon. After much divination’s my decision is made clear. In the next ensuing months I will be pursuing something near and dear to me, and I know the Gods will be with me on this. I know my Ancestors support this. I know my spirits.. Well, want to see what happens.

I hope your celebrations are filled with laughter, funny stories, new stories being written, love, righting wrongs, and as the Bear Mother stirs – may your inspiration stir as well!

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December Moon: Rough Nights Moon

My month has been busy, and spent in a whirl. Working, running around, and in the chaos I have spent communing with my Gods, spirits, and Ancestors. The world is spinning around me, yet I feel that at times I am standing still. Seeing the dark side of good people, and the good in bad situations. The wisdom is coming slowly through the trials, and I learned long ago that true wisdom is never free.

I am no superhero, but I have done my best. I’m still standing… That’s got to mean something.

Spent my time walking in awesome places, the dust of forget gave the air a linger of sorts, and I relished it. It was wonderful to walk through history, and even better to reach out and touch it.


A projector window in an old theater, which is now a furniture store. Still, hearing the steel doors creak made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Epic.

Went off to the Gem Show, to view the beauties hidden within:


Jackpot. I almost bought the entire bin.

IMG_0769IMG_0772Greeting the new additions:


Allowing my new bobcat skull to cozy in with the others.

I am letting my altar settle with the new additions, and everything is going quite smoothly. My first working with my male bear skull was wonderful and enlightening. I learned how to allow the snow to fall off the branch, and how to allow time to flow simply observing. Sometimes, sitting still is the wiser action, for many things will come to you. I hope that makes sense.


My bear claw addition to my stange. With the mink skull, and wolf fur, my steed is more potent than ever.

Got my metalworking itch scratched, as I am still debating on re-opening my online store. I closed it due to the chaos my life had taken, and it will remain closed until I feel everything has settled more fully. However, private commissions are still available. Just ask!


Some will have oak handles, some will have antler, and others will be the simple wrapping.

Finished my amulet choker to protect me in both my Workings and in daily life. Made of bear teeth, wolf teeth, one horse, and mink teeth it was blessed during the December full moon.


Potency at it’s finest, and it sits so wonderfully on my neck. I adore this piece!

And during the December full moon I enacted some… Harsher rituals.


Because sometimes shit’s gotta to get done.

And on the eve of Rauhnact I spent my time playing my violin and harp, offering milk and food to the Wild Hunt, threw the bones, and hailed to the Antlered Weaver’s assembly.

Hail to the Huntress of Souls!

I will post on this tomorrow. For now, my plans are not yet finished. Selig Rauhnact!!

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Dark of the Year

I walk outside, and feel the air.

I can almost hear the footsteps here and there.

I do not give in to my inner fear,

As I walk outside, during the dark of the year.

I think of the faces, of the silent hosts,

What does one do? With living, breathing ghosts?

Hollow shells that I encounter far and near,

As I walk outside, during the dark of the year.

I work my rituals, and hear a knock,

I pause, like a frozen clock.

Into the darkened atmosphere, I peer;

And I look into the veil, during the dark of the year.

At a crossroads I leave an offering, in the dead of night,

I pull up my hood, to fight the snowy blight.

An offering for the Gods, and Ancestors I revere;

As I whisper my troubles, during the dark of the year.

I turn around, homeward bound,

I pause every so often to listen, and look around.

I can see the shadows of Those most austere,

And I realize: I should get myself home, tis’ the dark of the year.

Home, I drink darkened tea,

And warm my bones, quite calmly.

I add some whiskey, for some added cheer,

I open a book, warm my toes by the fire,

Memory’s souvenir.

I think, I remember, I ponder,

During the dark of the year.

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