Ex Penna

After much deliberation, I've decided to close Quill's Occult Supply on Etsy.

This wasn't a flippant decision, nor one based on monetary reasons. On the contrary, the shop was doing quite well and I was finding it difficult to get orders out in a reasonable amount of time. After over 1,000 sales and over 530 followers, I was enjoying interacting with customers but not feeling able to do justice to their trust with my shipping issues. My other projects--including manuscripts still in the pipeline for publication--were suffering while I tried to keep all these separate plans orderly. As you can imagine, it didn't work very well.

So let's talk about where we're at now...

What's Happening to the Shop?

Quill's Occult Supply is no longer with Etsy. I'm relieved about this for the above reasons but also because they've been cracking down on their new rules about metaphysical products in a firm but totally random fashion, and it was starting to eat away at my listings. I had a rather devious trick planned to ensure that customers still got to hear all the details about what my products can accomplish and how to use them (Etsy's main grumble was the descriptions; absolutely no insinuation that magic actually works is allowed), but it was looking like a long-shot that they still might pick up on. If that was the case, I could end up banned from the site and lose everything without warning.

So, instead, we're hitting the road! From my love of working Comic-Cons with the indie comic book group with whom I collaborate, an exciting plan has sprung to offer the same wares of the former Etsy shop to customers in person at live events aimed at the Pagan and magical community! All your favorites will be there, plus live tarot readings and magical advice for getting the very best from your situation.

 What About This Blog?

To keep with the new goal of streamlining my public practice I've chosen to switch things up around here, as well. Monday Quick Links, Wednesday Witch Tips, as well as the long Friday articles you're used to will be replaced with shorter, quick-read pieces once a week plus event schedules, photos, and observations from traveling in the magical world. Hopefully this will be as exciting an adventure second-hand as I'm sure it will be for me!

In the meantime, I'm going to bring back some of the older posts you may have missed, dust them off, and pop them on the front page for you to enjoy. So look for this old/new content every Friday. It's sure to be a grab bag of unique snapshots from my earlier days!

What's Replacing Them?

The biggest excitement of all of this is that moving my schedule around this way will give me the time I need to really focus on my manuscripts! Though I indeed have a possibility of professional publication, it is a very long process that has not yet garnered much. So I will be putting all my efforts into another edit, plus illustrations and cover art for all four of them and then to a local bookbinder to create for you a homebrewed edition of my work. I believe very deeply that these manuscripts are able to provide some of the renewed vigor and beauty that the magical community is sorely needing. I write for the intermediate to advanced practitioner with a solid education and a willingness to experiment. I bet this sounds familiar to many readers!

Naturally, I'm hard at work making these books beautiful enough for all of you to enjoy at every event I attend. I don't know how long this will take, of course, so bear with me as I dig through the mountains of unused material from earlier drafts, work up countless hand-drawn illustrations, and play around with just the right wording to get these new books out to the world in the best possible version of themselves. It's just another trip we'll take together.

Something else exciting that you'll see with me at events will be a custom quarterly magazine. If you find yourself missing the articles of Ex Penna or are just in the market for more bite-sized magic than a whole book, I know you'll love what this new exclusive mag will provide! It's as yet untitled but the focus is clear: modern, upbeat, snappy articles with ideas and spells throughout for a fresh take on the magical life. You're going to want to grab a copy of this a.s.a.p.!

Also note that one of my newer projects will be stepping into the spotlight now--The +1 Pencil--a side-business my husband and I have of drawing custom RPG character portraits and painting minis. We are both gamers and also have lots of friends in the geek community (and I mean that with both respect and also a noogie) and the demand for quality representations of player characters is pretty damn high. Minis are fun to shop for and dream about painting, but actually doing it--and doing it well--requires more than patience; it's a skill requiring a steady hand, careful attention to detail, knowledge of color theory, and practical experience with portraiture. In short, it's really hard and worth the money for someone else to do it for you.  lol

My work in comics is also a part of my life to which I would like to dedicate more of my time. Deerborne, who you'll remember from her first issue available at the shop (and the piece that I both write and illustrate), has a lot more story to play out, as do the MixmeN, the neo-futuristic fantasy taking place on a defunct prison planet (in which I am the illustrator). There's so much to explore in these stories that I really want to get more time to dig around in their respective universes! Happily, with this shift, I can.



As you can see, now matter what comes and what goes, I will still be available for the same purposes, just in a different space. You can write me anytime through this blog, Facebook, Twitter, or by email and I will faithfully respond. In time, I'll have a printed catalog available for old-school mail order and possibly a stand-alone website from which you can find Quill's Occult Supply alive and well online. In the meantime, however, I can't wait to come straight to you, in person, with armloads of spells to enliven and enrich your life!

Thanks for traveling with me, from the first beginning and onward into this second one.

 

Let's be clear: I love occult shops.  There was a time when I, like many other practitioners, was penniless and couldn't afford anything in them.  And there was a time when I lived so deep in nowhere-land that, even if I could afford it, none were available to me (and yes, that means I lived *gasp* pre-internet for most of my life).

Now that I am a few years older, wiser, better traveled, and more prosperous, I take every opportunity I can to slow down and walk every inch of the occult shops I find.  They're always overflowing with inspiration and you're certain to come out ready to cast your fingers off!

But what if you're stuck in my former state?  What if rarity and poverty removes such opportunities?  Then it's time to take a trip to the mundane farmer's market instead and look at it with a magical eye!

Bewitching the Farmer's Market

Fresh Eggs

Eggs are a classic for cleansings of home, self, and spirit.  They're also oddly effective at cursing, and fresh laid eggs are required for this purpose almost exclusively, most likely so that the egg doesn't retain any connections to your own home.

This story has been a long time coming but I really wanted to be able to tell it properly.  On Monday I told you about something that happened to me earlier this month but now we're going to go way back and talk about a experience I had last September that I thought might never be possible.  Please note that absolutely none of this is in chronological order, but perhaps if you too have visited New Orleans you'll understand why that isn't important at all.

On a long-awaited day that seemed to arrive quite suddenly, I and my sister and niece took the long highway trail that leads from north to south, from Pennsylvania to Louisiana, and the bright, hot, magic-infused city of New Orleans.  Being a northerner through and through, NOLA seemed as distant as the moon so when the opportunity came up, I leapt at it.  Without any expectations (which is my favorite way to travel), I packed my things and hopped in the van to spend a week under the influence of the bayou and its ways.  I was not disappointed.

First, I'd like to note that though I am a witch and have been driven primarily by magic and Pagan thought since I was an early teenager, I chose not to explore the city in the standard way.  So I passed up the magical shopping (I'm already well-stocked so to do so would have been just the lookie-lou shopping that is a waste), I took no ghost tours, and I didn't have my fortune told.  There were, of course, a multitude of opportunities for each of these, but I enjoyed coming to the experience with an eye to find magic in the places that presented themselves to me without being bidden.

To that end, I took in the city as best I could in one week.  We saw both the rich and poor neighborhoods.  We walked quietly through the cemeteries.  We enjoyed street performers and jazz parades, ate at small restaurants, and talked with locals.  It was a scavenger hunt for all the particulars that make New Orleans its own beast.

What was most surprising to me was that even without hitting the standard magical scene, the city itself hums with magic.  Though the look of the place was fairly modern, the feeling one gets is that of the often yearned-for past ages when magic was accepted as obvious and ever-present.  Voodoo, Hoodoo, talismans for every purpose, spells, curses, occult symbols...they are everywhere.  Like my first trip to Salem, MA, I was confronted at every turn by images that I previously felt were so individual to my sub-set of society that it was a delightful shock to view them openly.


The juxtaposition of tall, sleek hotels and tiny mom-and-pop shops; the modern facades and old wrought iron railings and decorated window casings; icons of African diaspora and Catholicism, the well known business brands next to houses painted with touches of shocking tangerine and turquoise details.  Everywhere were bits of the profane and the sacred, the mundane and the magical, the thrill of a party town and the peace of classic Southern repose.  Though they surprised me at first, they never came across as contradictions, as though NOLA never learned who she was, but rather a sign of the variety and combined cultures who formed the city and grew with her.

The House of Blues was a temple to music.  What seemed like a simple venue from without quickly revealed itself within as an homage to the blues, jazz, and the kind of camaraderie that both seem to evoke from its fans.  We spent an evening in the parish and the signs of the building's former life
were like little eyes peeking from the shadows.  The likenesses of saints looked on from their alcoves lined with Hoodoo novena candles, the parchment colored walls and painted ceiling accommodating modern stage lighting, the stage itself festooned
with the painted inscription "Unity in Diversity."  I've never been in a lovelier church.

The other house of worship on our tour was Bourbon Street.  I'm not much of a drinker but the ever-present party spirit was enough to change my mind for the week.  Naturally, this lead to a case of too much too fast and I found myself regretting the pleasure I took in choosing the biggest and most colorful drinks available.  I couldn't have been alone in that state, though I saw only happy faces as we moved through the throng that filled the streets.  The scent was quite another matter.  In the halls of decadence are many pleasures and, I would suppose, few bathrooms.  We were told that the whole area had to be hosed down every night to wash away the vomit and urine, and the pungent evidence of this hung in the warm air.  Always the optimist, I prefer to think of this as one more inhibition shed: society forces us into a nearly constant state of discomfort that only a good party can properly loosen.  I kept myself within arm's reach of societal norms on my visit, but I don't mind those who didn't.

To me, the most important stop on our journey was a visit to what seemed to me to be the very heart of the city, the cemeteries.  Easily the second most recognizable "attraction" of New Orleans (right
after Marti Gras), the cemeteries are a lovely reminder of how this city has suffered but also how it has absorbed such suffering and made it beautiful.  The magic that feels like lifeblood in NOLA pulses through these places.  A respect for the dead, and death itself, is a permanent aspect of events.  The lurking underworld
spirit is actively invited into daily life, talked about, talked to, painted and sung, honored, even loved.

Walking in the gates at St. Louis #1 was strange mainly because it was so popular--great clusters of people regularly filtered through, a man at the gate was selling cold drinks, the tour guides proclaimed loudly to their wards.  A cheerful lady asked us as we were leaving if we knew where to find the tomb of the mass murderer Madame LaLaurie.  It was all too much.  Much like I feel in the local city library where "library voice" has been completely abandoned-- even by the librarians--I felt compelled to be extra quiet and meek to make up for the bustle.  But then we went to one of
the smaller cemeteries and found ourselves completely alone.  There the silence present needed no help from me.  I wandered silently in that still place, as though I had entered a painting.  I took sparse photos only out of hopes to capture that uncanniness, though with every snap I felt as though I shouldn't.   It was lovely, though, and so easy to make beautiful in film that I couldn't help myself.  Everywhere was whitewash and black wrought iron, potted plants on the steps of tended tombs and scruffy wildflowers growing atop those untended, all stretching out in the bright sunshine of a cornflower blue sky.  If this was a painting, someone had done a masterful job.

Coming back out again was a weird experience.  The rest of the city was so busy, even in the back alleys, that the contrast of the peaceful cemeteries felt impossible.  I don't recall hearing the traffic from the nearby streets while we were inside those gates.  Perhaps that's part of the mystique of such a place--it entombs you with all the rest and while yet living you may understand the peace of the dead.

Indeed, coming back to Pennsylvania after this trip seemed much the same.  There is a rich history and blend of cultures in my own home state but nothing quite so vivid as what I discovered in Louisiana.   I had entered the gates a student of experience and emerged again no scholar but certainly wiser and with one eye open to the underworld.

March has barely begun and I'm dreaming of the warm weather.  Not really for myself, however.  I don't mind winter weather or winter grey.  I like the snow and the ice, even when it's on the ground in front of me.  Just last week I slipped while shoveling and landed flat on my back on the pavement, shovel still in hand, while cars drove by and admired my form.  lol  But that's not the winter's fault; it's just that thing that sometimes happens to people when they think they're being bright by shoveling wet snow and cooking dinner at the same time.

But I do think about the warm weather for you.  Or, at any rate, those of you who loved my dried wild herbs so much that my supply is all gone!  When the weather is fine I'll be back out the the woods and fields near my home, hopping across moss-covered stones in creek-beds, wading through briars and underbrush, kneeling by a deer path, seeking out the very best of what the land is offering.

And maybe I will find something new!  Isn't that a crazy thing to hope?  I don't buys shoes or purses and I can't see the excitement in going to the mall unless there is something I'm particularly wanting to find, but I love the treasure-hunt feeling of walking in the woods and not knowing what may be there today that wasn't there before.  And that is one of the wonderful things about owning a shop: I do for myself as I do for you, and vice versa.  When I'm gathering herbs to sell, I'm also learning more about those herbs, their habits, their preferences, colors, and variations.  When I find something I've never seen before, I identify it and learn its name, it's habits and all that, bringing it into the brood with the others and selling it to those who need its virtues.  

But winter still has a little more time left before any of that.  Punxsutawney Phil predicted an early spring and the whittling away of snow has not been replaced with fresh cover, so though we may not have too long to wait, we do yet have time to plan and dream.


Image from:  http://uknowispeaksense.wordpress.com

Okay, so I wasn't able to write from Salem.  But that's not for lack of thinking about it.  It was such a whirlwind of activity, that if not for the thousands of photos and bags of swag, I'd think I never went at all!  So let me break it down a little, for you and for me.

My husband and I set out 2 hours later than we'd planned.  Damn.  And I had to turn around after a mile because I forgot to bring shoes.  So not a very fortuitous beginning.  But after several double-checks of the house, many blessings, candle-burnings, and chanting (as well as a rockin' orange paisley dress that just refused to be found!  Grr!), we were off.  A cheerful and surprisingly speedy drive slowed to a halt at every exit in Boston, but with a constant flow of chants, we made it through without problems.  I have used the same chants since I first started practicing witchcraft at age 16.  By now they're thoroughly ingrained in me--just the first few words and they set to work.  That was good news for me because it was about this time that I remembered that I wasn't carrying my usual traveling companion--a handwritten book full of practical charms.  Rats!

We checked into our posh hotel with just enough time to change for the Witches Ball and be at the front door for the shuttle.  What perfect timing!  In previous years we drove into the city, which is not so bad...until you need to park.  Sadly, at this time of year Salem has one parking space for every 200 people seeking it.  But the shuttle is totally the way to go (Hudson, by the way.  Just remember Hudson).  We even got there in time to get the goodie bags that they give to the first 100 in the door.  Every year we fear we won't make it and every year we have with plenty time to spare.  That's a kind of magic, right there!

The High Priestess outside of her temple, the Boston Marriott.

The Ball was a flurry of excitement--people crowding every square inch of the ballroom, music loud enough to wake the dead, dancing, drinking, laughter, smoke, and lights...it was, as always, a sight to see.  We crowded to the front to watch the amazing Dragon Ritual Drummers as they called love and honor for the dead and worked a rhythm to make it impossible to stand still.  Now I'm no dancer, but they manage to get me moving every time.  There's a wide range of dance styles at the Ball (and pretty much anywhere Pagans congregate)--the I-go-to-nightclubs-every-weekend swagger, the sexy come-hither, lots of pseudo-bellydancing, wild arm thrashing, the I'm-also-talking and/or kissing sway, the drinking/head bobbing combo, and then moderate dancers like me.  Because of the available variety, it's quite easy to blend in no matter what your style.

And here's Mickey before we left home.  That head wasn't easy to hoist, so he requested no photos before the Ball unless absolutely necessary.  lol

Christian Day (our host) announced that the tables had been removed this year (as I noticed because it meant less to trip over.  After all, I was wearing a moon at my feet and a large headdress on top!) to eliminate wallflowers.  It worked quite well.  I had no intention of sitting still the whole time but the lack of rest space meant that nearly everyone was mingling the whole night.  For a couple who rarely get out like this, it was perfect!  Hubby and I made the rounds like bold souls, meeting new folks, seeing new costumes, getting pictures taken, and finding new enthusiasm for the dance.  A couple of drinks and a few fancy nibbles were surprisingly all I was interested in, despite the wide array available.  It was warm, wild, and much too much of everything to spend my time eating! 

To clear things up, this year's theme was "Witch and Famous," well-known historical and fictional witches and wizards.  My husband was the Sorcerer's Apprentice and I was the High Priestess of the tarot.  These were the most wildly original costumes we could manage after months of contemplation.  Naturally, mine was not original.  lol

That's me on the right, all aglow, and a sympathetic sister on the left.  Great minds think alike, I guess!

Though I was a shining beacon in the darkened ballroom, my husband was the one who got the attention!   As we had discovered earlier this year while visiting Disney World, the mere sight of a walking, talking Mickey Mouse does something strange to people.  Children flock to give hugs and high-fives.  Grown men and women throw themselves in his arms with love, laughter, and lavish kisses.  And tonight was no different.

Handfuls of pretty young women (and an enthusiastic young man!) took turns dancing with him like rock groupies.  It was quite a sight!  I took it as well as any wife can who watches her surprised and embarrassed hubby as he is worshiped with erotic dance like a golden idol.  Maybe it was Mickey's magnetic power of celebrity, maybe the familiarity of a good-natured character, or maybe it was his permanent smile of excitement...whatever it was, it was magic!

Of course I was thrilled when, in the midst of all the dancing and mingling, he was asked to come to the front of the room.  The winners were finally announced and he'd won 2nd prize--$200 to Pentacle Press!  What a thrill!  What bliss!  Mickey danced and smiled from the stage as I clapped like mad for his big win.  First prize went to a woman dressed as the Wicked Witch of the West who rode a broomstick atop an 8 foot pole.  For sheer dedication, misery, and boredom (there's no drinking, talking, or dancing when you spend the evening at the top of a pole), she is welcome to it.   

Two more things made this event huge.  The biggest was that I met Dorothy Morrison, who, oddly enough penned quite a few of the charms I used on the trip up to Mass. for safety and traffic woes.  On Sunday, I even did her charm for a parking place and we easily slid into a spot on a crowded street.  I was really looking forward to getting a signed copy of her newest book, "Utterly Wicked," but, alas, she was in the midst of a longer trip (including a Pagan festival in Florida) and didn't carry books with her.  Instead she offered to send me an autographed bookplate to put in my new copy.  Eeep!  So dang cool...   Now I don't think I'll be able to read her without hearing her characteristic voice.

And the second thing to make this such a special night was the way Christian Day--normally a sassy and somewhat aloof type--seemed to fawn over Mickey Mouse!  It was very sweet.  That's when I knew that the magic of the mouse was upon us all.  Just look at this smile---



The way back to the hotel seemed long and chilly compared to the loud and crowded Ball.  However, knowing the next day was all ours, with no schedule or plans, was very exciting!  So much of my thoughts had been wrapped up in that night that I nearly forgot the rest of the weekend! That and getting out of slippery satin and into an overstuffed bed to unpack our goodie bags was all new fun.  Hooray! 

Hotel breakfasts are always wonderful.  I think that if there were only one way to wake up every morning, I'd choose a hotel breakfast.  Ours was well stocked and we ate heartily so that we wouldn't have to stop for lunch.  We hit all the hot spots that day: all the shops along Essex (with special attention to my favorite shops, The Magic Parlor, Hex, Omen, The Barking Cat, Harrison's comics, and Witch City Consignment and a trip through the Psychic Fair) and some new goodies on Pickering Wharf, including a peek in the new Magica , The adorable Wynotts wand shop, and a great little place Arcana, whose very cool owners I met the night before.  The evening was chilly and my feet were sore.  We decided to have dinner at Life Alive for heaping bowls of udon miso and salads.  Warm and fed, we headed back to the hotel again for an unconventional night of cable TV, napping, waking, and delivery pizza. 

Sunday morning was a bummer.  Great breakfast, great weather, but always the shadow of leaving.  *sigh* But we managed to squeeze in one last jaunt into the city for shirts and other goodies to take home for other folks.  One last treat, a dandelion-chicory latte with rice milk and vanilla from Life Alive, and we were off.  I was happy for this last visit even though it set our schedule back.  Though maybe that was a mistake because right about then a lady named Sandy was terrorizing the East Coast, unbeknownst to us, and we were barely ahead of her. We left New York just as they were evacuating cities and the highway was stuffed with the cars of fleeing residents.  

We made it back in time to gather our kids from family and return home.  School had been cancelled for the next day, due to the impending storm, so time was no longer an issue.  But, quite happily, not a single drop of rain entered our house unbidden and not a single bit of damage was done to anything belonging to our loved ones, either.  Blessed be!

Salem this year was as it always is--beautiful, joyful, and surprising.  I would say that I could happily live there, but then, that might take away the pleasure of escaping to that lovely place every time autumn comes and life permits.  It could never be four walls and a roof, it is only ever a door.

My trip to Salem is coming closer by the minute.  I can almost hear its footsteps behind me.  How can I possibly feel like sighing in bliss and running in terror at the same time?  To begin with, this is the biggest event of our year (though possibly tying with Yule, a huge deal around here)--the Salem Witches Ball.   I am excited/petrified in a few different ways.  It's interesting to consider them all individually:

1. I'm thrilled to be attending the Ball for my third year.  It's an amazing event that's always different!
2. This is my chance to "get away from it all" and do something strictly relaxing with no goals for accomplishment nor productivity.  Ahhhh!
3. Working nonstop on our costumes (plus normal household stuff and working for my shop--updating listings, helping customers, mailing orders, etc.) has left me rather burnt out.  I need a vacation.
4. I am a nervous wreck about the costumes.  A happy, terrified, proud wreck.
5. Everything considered non-essential (like dusting, mopping, and sleep) has taken a back-seat to all immediately important activities.  I don't think I'll fully grasp the level of disarray it has become until after things settle down again.
6. My to-do list is still dangerously long.  So long, in fact, that if it were a snake, it could easily crush me to death.  My only hope is to slash away at it with a pen.
7. I am happiest when I'm busy, and I always bite off more than I can chew.  This time is no exception.

As you can see, at the moment I'm one mixed up sonofabitch.  lol  Right now I could use all the well-wishes you can spare.  (I will be sure to update this blog with lots of photos and news from the Witch City as repayment!)

Thinking of you as I pack up the broomstick and head North,

Quill