The Attic Witch of 13th Street

I just love this sign. I love the catywompus, candy-coloured cacophany of it, both literally and how it speaks of life. It appeals to my inner child, my sense of fun, as well as my understanding of life as a constantly unstable balance, a dance of change. This past year has been such a year for me. How I wish I could approach all my life's trials as I do this sign, with humour and a sense of adventure!
(The sign also reminds me of a wild woman character in one of my books, Slick 66, who completely took over my life last September — but aside from her ample and fantastic knowledge of every kind of grease, she's a story for a different blog.)

An interesting period in my life occurred just recently, from January 1st to July 16 of this year, 2015: I lived at the junction of 13th and Malden in Sellwood, in the attic of Essential Elements Apothecary. In other words, I got to be at the place I first interned for herbalism, and got to live out a dream as the Witch in the Attic on 13th Street! The setting was beautiful, with walks in an upbeat neighborhood full of flowers and herbs. Strolls along the upper edge of Oaks Bottom Preserve. Swinging at dusk on one of three swings on the cherry trees along the bluff's edge, which graced my path earlier this spring with clusters of candy pink. In a sense, this was an idyllic time, a last period of girlish freedom from responsibility.
Sadly, life at the Apothecary was not all it was cracked up to me. I was poor much of the time, so I couldn't spend endless money on herbs. Nor did I feel comfortable brewing all the time in the kitchen, since the kitchen was communal, busy, and at times quite full of drama. But most of all, there were two personalities also there who had little business in a healing center. To even get to the rest of the house, I had to go through the room of one of them. Their oppressive energy made it just short of impossible to feel free, secure, or to release my "inner child", as so encouraged by the owner herself. In short, I could not express myself as I wished to, which deeply sucks whether you're a writer, and artist, or a healer. I felt judged, criticized, and all the time.
Finally, while I loved that dusty old attic and the awesome, angular dimensions of its space, which made me feel as though I were living in a great dark crystal, our 90–100˚F freak, three-week heat wave of June taught me a different aspect — that attic can hit temperatures of 115˚F! It got to 110 while I lived there. I would stream sweat, even topless and doing nothing but sitting. It felt like a sauna. I sought refuge in Adsideo Community Center down the street, with their friendly by-donation goodies, high speed wireless, and supercharged A.C.; in the cool water of the river at Sellwood Park, where honeybees zinged busily in and out of a hole in their colony tree, and flowers lined my walk; and in the delicious products at Nectar Frozen Yoghurt Lounge (yes, I became a regular, for the first time in my life at a treats-place!). Anyplace cool.
Drama escalated to a peak right as I was moving out. I'm grateful to be out of there, and don't plan to come back soon, at least not unless or until the hostile personalities are gone. Severa Snape needs her space. Having said that, I'll miss other people dearly — congrats on my friends Brit and Sam for relocating to South Oregon! Etty, Marianne, Cally: I love you all. Meantime, I'm looking forward to exploring the herb shops right in my new local 'hood! One especially has herbs I haven't found anywhere else, but which I tout in my new Wild Brews for Dreamy Sleep.
Bring on the brewing.

 Above and below: The Apothecary attic was truly a cool space, even unfinished. I had a few herbs hanging from the ceiling to complete the vibe, and tiny lights to cheer the place up. I'll miss dancing in that space, and waking up to a bright morning through the ripply old window. Hanging cloth completed the space, like living in a great wooden tent. But it was very dark in there, like a womb; and like a womb, it served its purpose to further my growth: It helped to inform me of what I wish my life to be like, and what I wish to leave behind. (The next time I utilize an attic, for instance, I prefer the entire house to be mine. As Snape, I say: and mine alone! Out, out!)

 Above: Wild Bleeding-Heart, which I discovered has a root with medicinal properties, grows in Oaks Bottom. Also in its company are burdock, teasel, nettle, lamb's-quarters, mullein, chickweed, viper's bugloss, cleavers, and currant. I simply love spotting multiple plant-friends I know along a single path in the woods, field, or fen!

Above: "A witch, a witch!" Enjoying the palette of color and variety of dried plants in early spring, in the field next to Oaks Bottom, while self-posing for artistic reference photos. How I love that area! I'll miss being right next door to it, so I know I'll want to plan for future excursions from NE Portland. Here, I must admit the parks are far more regulated and boring — I like mine a little wild. (Or very wild.)

 Above: My old kitchen potion cabinets before I dismantled them to move in late Dec. 2014.

 Above: The Witch of 13th Street is at it again! Shooting reference photos in the mysterious fen setting of Oaks Bottom.

 Above: I loved my little cushioned window-seat in the attic. Fortunately, I was able to replicate this arrangement, and facing the same direction, in my new smaller but much brighter living space near Ainsworth this past week. (On this particular afternoon, I had a gluten-free cupcake.) In the attic in my last month there, I spent a genteel afternoon on the window-seat knitting on a Sabres team scarf, whose creation has spanned the term of three jobs and may just see me into self-employment before it's finished! No, Severus, I won't work for a boss like yours just to get power; in fact, I'm getting tired of all bosses, no matter how nice they seem to be at first.

Above: Sweet memories of walks, ice cream, happy afternoons and breezes, at the swings under the blooming cherry trees along Sellwood Boulevard. I'd pity the groveling lives of middle managers and others who no longer take time for their spirits in this way, except they chose their path, and I am choosing mine. Amen.

Soon to be Brewing in a New Space

It's been a long while since my last post, a time filled with stress and work and two physical moves across town. Moving isn't always an easy or welcome event, especially when you have a potions apothecary to pack up and rearrange! I like to joke that being a herbalist means organizing your spice cabinet is a real b****! But my new room is sweet, the kitchen is large, and there's enough room for books and potions alike. Quite the miracle.
I'm continuing my focused work on producing my Wild Brews Herbal Series, though not as quickly as I'd hoped! Issue No. 5, Wild Brews for Dreamy Sleep, is set to hit the e-shelf of Amazon Kindle as soon as I work the bugs out of a hyperlinked table of contents. Having trouble sleeping? Dreamy Sleep offers solutions to better rest via herbs, lifestyle change, creative use of essential oils, diet tips, and more, for a holistic approach to a common problem. Like all other Wild Brews books, this one gives many angles to tackle a single topic of concern . . . and thus, plenty of room for your individual tastes.
Soon to follow will be Wild Brews to Refresh, hopefully in time to catch August's heat wave.
The dream of being self-employed lives on. As long as it does live on, and as long as I'm raging sick and tired of the status quo, then so too lives on my hope and optimism. Saint Severus, I pray for your discipline — the discipline I need to make This Thing work!