Home as Temple/Temple as Home

"Every object in a Lodge should be a symbolic representation of the different aspects of force functioning upon the plane which is is intended to raise the consciousness of the candidate... Form, colour, movement, sound, and incense make their appeal to the gates of the physical senses, each of which is an analogue of the subtle senses..."

That quote is from Dion Fortune in her Esoteric Orders and Their Work from the chapter on The Use and Power of Ritual.  Most of the book is just Fortune acting superior, but that chapter at least has some points I agree with; I don't think anyone who has studied and practised magic for any length of time would disagree with the idea that the physical can influence the mental and spiritual. A ritual space induces a magical state of mind.

For most modern witches and magicians, our homes are our temples. City dwellers usually don't have the luxury of a back yard (or even a balcony) and if you live alone chances are you don't have a spare room you can dedicate solely to magic. While I do harbour fantasies of having an attic with a permanent ritual circles drawn on the floor, I don't mind having my living space function as magical space because I do feel that it helps integrate my occult practice with my day-to-day life. I am not a kitchen witch, but I understand the appeal of everyday magic that is not set apart as something lofty and 'other.'

The home, then, as temple: your decor becomes your symbolic representations. Form and colour set the emotional tone not just for the mundane but the spiritual as well.

This brings me back to my snarky post the other day about ugly couches. Artists, I think, often possess a magical mindset and so I am even more baffled by those who don't spare a thought for what their home looks like. One of my good friends has an apartment that has the feel of a haunted smoking room - you walk in and expect to be handed a brandy by Vincent Price. It's a magical house that cultivates a particular atmosphere.

It is atmosphere that's been on my mind lately, as a few people I know have moved or are planning to.  In an attempt to be helpful, and also simply because I love home decor, I've spent time looking at Gravity Interior (especially the studio apartment tags), and Tiny-Ass Apartment.

 Perhaps not shockingly, I decided to move the apartment around again last week. (The last time I did so was in the summer, which was long ago enough for my tastes.)

Moving the bed into the bedroom was an ordeal, made not at all easier by the fact that I decided to do it on my own. At one point I did wind up trapped against the wall, trying to figure out how to lower the bed frame before my arms gave out. In moving the bed I also discovered that my heater had been leaking and so rotted part of the headboard - it doesn't seem dangerous and so will have to wait until I have enough money to replace it. When I do I may get a new mattress as well, and if I do that I plan to downgrade from a queen to a double to get a few more inches space in that tiny room.

The living room now seems palatial to me. I gave my sister and her boyfriend my old dresser set in exchange for one of the Ikea wardrobes they had - their bedroom was being dominated by two of them and was not comfortable. I had worried it would do the same in my space, but after some fiddling with location I seem to have found a place for it where it doesn't look too much like a huge fridge. It helps that my apartment is predominately white with wood accents.

My apartment has an old fireplace that has been sealed up, and a little electric fireplace stove was placed there by the landlord. Mine broke a few months back and I never got around to asking it to be replaced, and with winter on the wane it seems silly to bother with it now. Instead I put some flameless candles I found on sale in there, although eventually I want to get some bigger ones. I also want to replace the old black bucket chair now by the mantle, but these are things that can wait.

The living room now has ample space for me to dance in, and I think I could even lay down a properly large circle. My sister says it feels 'airy' and I find myself pleased with that. "Form, colour, movement, sound, and incense make their appeal to the gates of the physical senses" after all, and for me an atmosphere of calm is essential.

As for Fortune's "symbolic representations of the different aspects of force" I considered what artwork to keep up, why I wanted it present, and where in the house it worked in harmony with other pieces.

I'm lucky in that I didn't have to buy a lot of new stuff - I bought some drapes, a floating shelf, some candles. It all came in under a hundred dollars and the reward is a space I feel comfortable both living in, and having others visit. It can function as studio, temple, sanctuary and library. There's space for new objects (a ram or goat skull someday, hopefully) but in the meantime it doesn't feel empty - everywhere I look I see something that reminds me of the life I want to lead.

As for Miss Frances, she's just happy she has her special chair.

A change is as good as a rest.

Miss Frances the cat has a favourite sort of toy: foam balls. She likes them because she can pick them up with her mouth, and she can bat them easily with her little clawless paws. The problem is that she would roll them under the bookshelf under my window, and so get them caught under the radiator. I'd have to pull the shelf out to rescue them. Today I was trying to find a place to move the bookshelf to that would solve this problem. Buuuut....

When you have a small apartment, there's only so many places you can put things. So I wound up moving the entire apartment around. Of course.

There also happened to be a thread on the pagan forum I frequent about "your faith in your home decor" today. I'm not a hugely religious person, but there's ample evidence of the shit I'm into all over the house.

This is where keys and spare change go. Cheap plastic tray + modge podge.

Yeah, take that, Pinterest.

Working in animation means that you sit at a desk all day, and that desk is always directly next to another desk and another and another... Picture IKEA tables in rows, each with a computer tower, a monitor, and (if you're lucky, which I am) a cintique. There's not a lot of space, and most people bring in things to put on top of the computer towers to make their tiny space a bit more theirs.

I really wanted a plant on my desk, but we get absolutely no natural light where we sit and I also want to be mindful of people's potential allergies. So I hit google, and google popped up this article on Lifehacker about moss terrariums.

"Moss!" I said. "Moss is free! I live in Vancouver, moss is fucking everywhere!"

So I took some moss and stuffed it into a mason jar ($2.23) and, because I'm a hippy, tossed a quartz crystal point in there and BAM. Terrarium for less than the price of a latte.

I'm going to put it on top of my computer tower tomorrow. AND LET THE EARTH ENERGY FLOW OR SOME SHIT.

I actually think I'll try this again with, you know, more effort.

Glory, glory.

Tarantino Burlesque sold the fuck out.

Insaaaanely awesome show. I'm the first to admit I fucked right the fuck up in the opening number, but it was extremely goofy so I'm not actually sure it mattered all that much. The stage was way, way smaller than we'd anticipated with the band up there with us, which was problematic for the group numbers, but all things considered I think we did the best we could.

The solos went super well. This was my first time working with Ariel Helvetica and holy shit you guys she is so good. She's going to be taking Cherry on Top's slot for classes at the Burlesque Centre (Cherry's very pregnant) so once I'm back at work I'm planning to attend. Girl is crazy talented.

Yours truly did better than she expected. I was shitting myself a little beforehand, not gonna lie - again, a sold out show on the Granville strip. No pressure or anything.

The audience was an odd mix of totally into it and totally ignoring you. Our darling host Trixie Hobbitses of Geekenders fame was unfortunate enough to overhear some ladies talking smack about us performers outside the dressing room, which kinda bummed me out. But then I had a few different women come up to me over the rest of the evening to tell me how much they enjoyed my act. So, you know. Take criticisms when you can... but only if they're actual critiques and not just drunken declarations of bitchery. (Also if you aren't entertained by Sweetpea McGee in a gimp costume, then your taste is questionable at best.)

Overall an amazing night, and I'm still SO thrilled to have been a part of it. Blue Morris and the band are all fucking stellar to work with.

Okay, no more gushing.


In unrelated news, I finally mounted my Hand of Glory. Found a cheap shadowbox at Michael's and got some wood stain, which I also used to darken up parts of the skin because paint was just not looking right. I'm super ghetto so I just hot-glued everything in place and hung the damn thing on the wall.

Close-up of the Hand.

Eh, crooked photo. The label reads 'Hand of Glory. Supposed hand of a criminal hanged. Found 1932, Whitby, England." The Whitby Museum actually has what is believed to be a REAL Hand of Glory.

Its new home.

House of the Rising Sun

I'm pretty sure my eyebrows are going grey.  Seriously, what the fuck? Ugh. Have some fake-Instagram-filter pictures. (You know what, though? Fuck your ugly high-res crap. My favourite camera growing up was a Polaroid, and I intend to recapture the magic digitally whenever I can.)

After Diana informed me that she thought my mantle looked a little bare ("don't you usually have more of your stuff up there?") I did some rearranging. Behold the hand of glory, shoved in a jar on a whim. Also behold my totally awesome Urban Outfitters candles. SEE THEY ARE CUTE. Also pictured: The Victorian Regina Tarot. I love this deck if only because Oscar Wilde is the Prince of Wands. (Of course he is.)

The short bookshelf. That little bottle under glass there is an extremely thoughtful gift from the gentleman known in Vancouver's more theatrical corners as Aleister Crane. It's the Elixer of Life. No, seriously. I have not opened it.

This isn't mine. It has to be returned to Clown Boss. Until she remembers this, it stays on the wall.

This greets you as you enter my apartment. Saint Death, motherfuckers. I have not lit it since my sister gave it to me. Presumably this makes me a giant chickenshit.

In other news, elderflower martinis rule.

PBP: A is for Altar

My first altar was a cardboard box in a closet.

It was a painted cardboard box, thankyewverymuch. Black, of course, with a silver pentagram painted on the top. I had a dollar store incense burner and dollar store incense to go with it, and that went on the box along with a candle or two and my athame. (By which I mean a letter opener.)

I was sixteen years old, living in the Bible Belt, and I habitually wore fishnets and combat boots*. I'd just finished Bucky's Big Blue, and it said you needed an altar. A cardboard box seemed better than nothing.

Except even at sixteen, I knew it was pretty ghetto.

Now. I'm sure there are a lot of people out there for whom a cardboard box with a badly drawn star on it is perfectly serviceable. Hey, I did use mine... it was just that the entire time I did I couldn't help but think, "holy shit I want better." Maybe it's because I'm a Libra. We like things to look pretty.

In the first apartment my sister and I lived in in Vancouver, we had a HUGE altar. It was an old dresser, painted black (sensing a theme, here?) with pretty much every witchy thing we owned piled on it. This monstrosity was kept in the living room. There were also a bigass Celtic wall hanging on the wall behind it. At the time, it all seemed very romantic and gothic. In retrospect... well. We were in our twenties! The whole apartment was ugly! The couch was velvet and the bathroom sink fell off the wall!

I've had several altars since then, most of them quite small. Not cardboard boxes, but generally very small tables or the tops of old radiators. The apartment I currently live in has ample space, but with the exception of the ancestral altar, I have moved all my various magical spaces to my bedroom.

I no longer have a hardon for Celtic knotwork. I've expanded my decor to something besides 'black' and I'm at a point where I can afford to buy myself decent quality supplies.

Hilariously, my altar is back to being a dresser. My working altar anyway - the space that I use for magic and for the bulk of ritual and offerings. It's kept quite clean both because it is my dresser, and because I like things to look tidy. I keep most of my supplies put away, but certain things are left out: my mortar and pestle, the slate pentacle I bought years ago in Aldergrove, my Morrigan candle, and a cigar box full of sigils.

A good number of my supplies are kept in a cabinet in the corner. More pertinent to this topic is the top of the cabinet, which is used as another space for ongoing spellwork.

The top of my bookshelf, behind the door, holds more devotional objects: a statue of Ganesh, the crow skulls my grandfather Jimmy carved, and on the shelf below a statue of Thoth. (By the Tarot books, natch.)

My bedside table functions as an altar of a sort... it's where I keep my journal, and whatever I happen to be reading. It also has Dream of the Endless in the corner, keeping an eye on all my nocturnal wanderings. He and the little Wicked Witch were gifts - from my sister and mother respectively. Maybe not magical in the occult sense, but special to me.

Pictures and more after the jump:

Rapeseed

I'm a big nerd for home decor. I like to blame this on the fact that I'm a Libra, and therefore my personal space needs to be welcoming and delightful, but whatever the reason, it means I spent too much time browsing websites like Apartment Therapy.

This morning I stumbling across The Evolution Store. They sell actual skulls and skeletons! Including raccoon penis bones! They also have a selection of really lovely botanical prints that I sort of absolutely adore, including one for 'rapeseed.' I had no idea 'rapeseed' was a plant. It sounds very sinister indeed.

Far, far too many of these items would not look out of place in my bedroom. And not in a super creepy way - my room is all woods and leather, glass and plants. A toad skeleton would not look weird on top of my bookshelf.

...there's a taxidermied piranha! Okay, that could match the Tiki theme in the living room! He could sit by the remote for the TV!