Saturday, a gray and white saturday with a hint of rain, but besides hanging out at home with a hot drink, I felt the urge to go on some long-awaited ventures. Magick-related ones, specifically.
One project I've had in the back of my mind is more of the delicious-smelling, Cleansing Fire oil I actually created a couple years (or year-and-half) ago while living at Grandmas' House, while Pluto was doing its retrograde bit. (Sometimes I really miss that house!) It's why I got all that sulfur from my friend Will, in addition to possible sulfur candles. But my other herbal ingredients for the recipe . . . are of course packed.
Moonshadow is a store in the Belmont district that I'd wanted to visit for awhile, to restock said ingredients (I knew I'd end up with dupes of some, but that's okay). I also read a couple weeks ago that the proprietor Deborah's mate passed away on June 6. Time for a visit.
I came out with a lot more than a few pouches of herbs, although I got those too! I skipped the Galangal because she'd stocked a different source of dubious quality, but I got the rest, including the inarguably genuine Asafoetida (Debbie clapped a hand over her nose in disgust when I mentioned it, it was hilarious; and she's right, sweet mother of night, does it smell), plus a few new things, like flammable Vesta powder and Voodoo Lilies.
I also got some scented oils. Again, more than I'd intended; previously, I'd only gotten Road Opener for my work a couple autumns ago, when I moved. But there are a lot of little oil bottles on that shelf, and I was curious. As with the Road Opener, where had they come from? What went into them? And what, specifically, were these ones labeled as containing "pheromones"? I know what pheromones are, and they play a small part in a book I'm writing, so naturally I was interested. (Not to mention I'm into both Biology and Potions.)
Debbie told an interesting tale. Apparently, the maker of these delicious-smelling oils was none other than Aleister Crowley's grandson. He'd moved to Europe some time ago to become a monk of sorts, but before he did, they'd bought out the rest of his stock and were slowly selling them off. This fellow had been to Europe earlier in his life as well, when he learned the art of perfumery. When I mentioned that to me the most valuable thing was the collecting and preserving of recipes and, thus, it was a shame if this bloke couldn't be contacted, Debbie lamented that a couple of people had approached him asking about apprenticing, but he was one of those sorts of sorcerers --- demanding and rather impossible to get along with; a bit toxic, it sounded like. Debbie herself had been around him for only a few moments before deciding No! No! Definitely not someone she wanted to be around long. (The most successful of the apprentices lasted only six months before packing out.)
And so the formulae remain unknown. Unknown too, or so Debbie said, is whether the guy's even still alive. Formula deduction, it seems, will have to rely on trial, error, analysis, and/or a trained perfumer's nose. But apparently they work: "We were told you shouldn't wear Caliph's Beloved unless you want your boss following you around!" she said. I figured it's hard enough for me to afford regular perfumes or their ingredients, and it could be a fun experiment. Albeit one to do with caution, and maybe not at work (I don't want to waste these oils anyway!). But I like the idea of using them to connect with Jezebel magic, or with my own inner fire. If even this late-blooming, man-freezing, elitist and intellectual avoider of encounters can benefit, we'll really know they work!
Caliph's Beloved was out, but I got four others as a start --- I can't afford them all, and it's important to pick ones that smell good to me, anyway. Now, I plan to use just a precious drop or two in other bases or blends to "stretch" them. Is it true I could draw men with bacon grease and high-octane better than with perfume? Let's mix some with "Forbidden City" and find out!
As often happens these days, especially what with Pagan paraphernalia, oils and statues around, my conversation rolled around to Aliria-Naftha. "You're weird," said Debbie, when I said I didn't mind the smell of Asafoetida, and I grinned and said, "Wanna know how weird? I have crude oil on my altar . . ." I showed her my statues on my blog. "You know what you should get?" she asked me. "There are crystals with petroleum in them!" I told her I knew of them, but hadn't got any: I'd seen them online. The problem is, they tend to be expensive and rare, and it's hard for me to buy crystals without seeing them in person.
No matter. She had them. By the gram. I was thrilled. This type of crystal, also called a Golden enhydro, was one of the last types of mineral I dreamed of collecting for my work with the Earth devas, and I realized they represented a type of union of Gaia and Naftha, petroleum sequestered inside of earth material. A reminder that the two are in fact one. Only inconvenience and expense stopped me from getting these. Now Debbie picked out a couple from a whole pouchful, two perfect little herkimers, one with threads of blackest oil inside, the other containing the color of gold. I trusted her judgement . . . and bought both for a mere $1.10.
That night, I looked at each crystal with my geology hand-lens. I saw for myself the tiny bubbles, drops and veins of oil trapped in the clear matrix of crystal. Such magick! I'm totally thrilled of course, by their beauty and novelty alone, but I also know I'm holding something intensely powerful and special, and that I have lots to learn about how to work with these crystals (and all my wonderful fossils and tools!) for my best spiritual growth and for the good of the world. Sadly, I don't feel I can do that in my current space: I have no privacy, too much energy from other people flying around, distraction and judgement. . . . Soon, I hope that will change. My dark and beloved Naftha is calling, and Gaia our Earth Mother needs our focus and help more than ever. It is time to step into a space of more personal power!
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