A Chakra Opening for Imbolc

Stagnation be gone!

The Creepy Little Box

It's official: I am a Scrap addict.

Scrap is the creative supply reclaiming warehouse I visit all the time when I go downtown (usually right after picking up my paycheck). Rarely do I leave empty-handed. But what a better thing to be addicted to, short of the actual process of enjoying these things and making artworks? I've gotten everything from spinning fibres, to Sculpey bricks, to pottery tools, beads, candles, and potion bottles there. Scrap is a crafty-witch's paradise.

Today it was this delightfully creepy, dingy golden-olive green vanity box, which looks like it once belonged to some Victorian era Slytherin great-grandmother.

I could never in good conscience clean this box. The grunge is part of its somewhat Gothic appeal, like the tone of a bell just slightly off-key enough to make your neck hairs stand up. However, its hinges are broken, and I do plan to fix them, since that's a functional issue. After visiting Scrap, I also nipped over to Ace Hardware and got an antique bronze hasp for it.

And oh, dear! What is this? I know for a fact Scrap volunteers love to write humorous things on their price tags often, and the store has a "haunted" section for items that may not be haunted at all. Still, I think a good smudging wouldn't be amiss in this situation.

The inside most certainly looks haunted, even without the antique grumpy baby photo someone, probably a volunteer, stuck in there. I think leaving the broken mirror "intact" and adding some of my witchier items for atmospheric safekeeping will honor whatever spirit might live in this box nicely . . . and although I'm no great shakes at spirit communication thus far, being so well-anchored to the Earth plane, I still may attempt to see if anyone is in fact residing here.

The creepy little box wasn't my only score today (yesterday, now, as I work the graveyard*!* shift and posted this post-lunch, which for me is midnight). I also found some beautiful Victorian-style scrap cutouts, a vintage chocolate box, and a couple small "potion kits" with bitters for making cocktails while on an airline flight. The bottles of bitters had leaked, hence them being donated to Scrap. This is one of the problems plaguing those of us who work in potions!

Finally, I got a bunch of these tiny perfume or sample vials. Whether for poison, perfume, or oils for medicine or magick (hoodoo spiritual oils or portable aromatherapy kit, for example), these are just way too useful to pass up. The part of me that shares a soul with Severus is rejoicing!

Bad Chemistry at the Arsenic Ball

"Did you breathe any of the fumes from that green potion?"
"No, Professor Snape . . . I merely wafted a tiny bit of it toward my nose to smell it, the way Mother taught me. . . ."

Fashion has always run the risk of becoming brutal. Already driven by trends, it took on a special kind of wicked when backed by the power and ingenuity of the Industrial Age. Today it's the excessive use of fossil fuels, early and mid-century it was a focus on furs . . .

In the Victorian era, it included a passing craze with fabric dyes made from toxic ingredients, notably Paris Green, which was compounded from arsenic.

A chemist named Scheele invented the first reliable green pigment using arsenic. While the Victorian-era populace knew it was poisonous to ingest, they didn't realize arsenic was so toxic that merely touching it, or being near its offgassing vapours, could be fatal, especially for children, elderly folks or the generally weak of constitution. Tragically, some families lost three or four children in a matter of days.

Two safe modern replacement pigments for the lethal Paris Green, which even back then was used as an insecticide!

Arsenic is not even the only toxic green pigment. Verdigris is another (and copper and arsenic are often mined together; hence one of the sordid facts behind the efforts of copper magnate William Morris' attempts to discredit naysayers of the use of arsenic in paints and dyes). My own egg-tempera pigment kit today includes a traditional powder made from another toxic metal element: chromium.

Unfortunately, even with arsenic's dubious nature already known in some circles, the color green in various vivid shades was rapidly coming into vogue in the mid-1800s, and there was money to be made: by couturiers, by home and decorating companies, even by health and medicine quacks. . . . Had Sherlock Holmes been active then, he would quickly have discovered multiple cases with one thing in common, such as distinctive, lovely, but mysteriously garlic-scented wallpaper.

Above: Poisonous Victorian wallpaper.
CREDIT: 2016 CROWN COPYRIGHT, THE NATIONAL ARCHIVES, KEW/ CORBIÈRE, SON & BRINDLE, LONDON, UK, 1879

So began one of the most notorious of chemical danse macabres, extinguished only as both a critical mass of fear surrounding arsenic spread and green, well, everything started falling back out of vogue. As the engraving below suggests, people weren't intellectually stupid about what was happening. But, as we've seen today, humans have a kind of regressive survival urge to cling to habit that can make them slower to change than planet Earth's climate . . . literally.

This weekend I attended the Arsenic Ball, mainly to hear my friend Hide (pronounced 'Heidi') sing with her band Seven Cake Candy for my first time. But it also presented a great excuse to dress up for a woman who typically wears the same outfit a week in a row working factory night shifts.

And what did I wear? Why, a nice radioactive, arsenic-invoking, Slytherin green, of course! It's actually not a perfect Paris Green, but more of an emerald shade, which in fact matches my birthstone. The thrift store maven strikes again!

What a riot! Recall that hideous green, tipsy layered cake that Captain Hook attempts to poison the children with? Hide and the band all dressed thus, in ostentatious Victorian gowns and ruffles in various and vaguely noxious shades of green. Songs with lyrics like "Pure filth -- serve it up!" were belted out with passion.

In between songs, a bodacious drag queen MC recited dark poetry and read history lessons about these toxic times (as if arsenic gowns and wallpaper weren't foul enough, ladies' dresses trailed in muddy, horse- and human-feces-filled streets, inviting tuberculosis and worse). Other acts included some burlesque dancing and singing, or both in one act, including a couple that featured props of chemistry lab shenanigans and dubious beverages, with the song "Tainted Love" sung live. It was decidedly a Goth and genderfluid friendly event. Of course, no Goth event isn't improved by people appearing to die of poison onstage, which several did, including finally the MC, who lay there as the band did one of their final numbers. Get the smelling salts!

One reason I don't run exclusively with this crowd, however, is both toxic and quite unhumorous, though it isn't limited to this crowd. A lot of them smoke. There's absorbing toxins into your skin or sucking them into your skull because you either don't have a choice or don't know better at the time . . . then there's knowing better but choosing to be totally fucking stupid. It sounds odd coming from somebody who honors a deity of crude oil, sure; but my oleophilia is rooted in multiple truths, not all of which are bad, and some of which are born out of an awareness of the very changes that must occur for our health and lives.

Long story short? I'm willing to put up with that piss-poor, foul-smelling smoke (I mean, bitches please, you could at least pick a classy toxic smoke, the cloves are fine!) to support a friend.

There was also a photo booth, and Hide's friend Morgan, who also looked fabulous, took a picture or three of me, and one of us both:

I have to admit, it was a bit of a self-esteem boost to be lauded and recognized by people like Morgan, who seem a lot more into fashion and "practiced" at it than I am on a regular basis! Playing diva now and then is fun. It just feels harder sometimes to pull an act together when you're moving and have, like, no space to work, including on fashion. But this time I managed it!

With much of my things still packed and little room, I didn't make my dress this time. But I did make my lip gloss, for which I'm proud. The dress was a thrift find, and the best part is that I can wear it for other events. Movie star in green sequins, yass!

Don't forget the eyeshadow. But also don't ask me to wear eyeliner --- even if it's not as toxic as arsenic, and "suffering for fashion" is a mantra, applying and removing that stuff creeps me out.

"It'll do for now!" Cauldron Score!

The thrift store strikes again! I went in looking for something else, of course, which I also found: In this case, a green gown for the upcoming Arsenic Ball. But when I saw this cauldron sitting there, I immediately grabbed it! I mean, a metal cauldron this size?

This thing is 17" across. A small label on the bottom reads, "Threshold (the brand name), by Target Llc. Food safe. Not dishwasher or microwave safe."
It's made of a thin type of sheet pot-metal, I'm sure, like a low-carbon steel. A certain Percy Weasley would no doubt begin railing about the risks posed by thin-bottomed cauldrons. It's definitely not as sturdy as my smaller cast-iron models, nor the massive cast-iron equivalent I hope to one day afford on eBay.
I did a quick bit of research, and it seems this type of black finish is a powder-coating sprayed on and set at about 400 degrees F. So, cooking in my new score may pose a toxin risk! Brewing may be possible IF an internal liquid path keeps the temperature to water's boiling point. Otherwise, it's best to use this cauldron for pre-made punch or other cool foods, and save the heavy brewing for a genuine, use-tested model.
Still, my coven of silly witch-women might get a lot of fun out of this.
As I'll add: It may not be top-grade, but it'll do for now.

The cauldron, along with my green gown and a small Mary wall statue I found. I normally don't go in for cheap or "sappy" imagery, as it were, but something about the artistic lines, obvious age and general feel of this piece spoke to me. Besides, who knows how many prayers were made with its help?

Earlier today, I bought three tinctures from my fellow herbalist friend Monica, who needed pocket money for a Mexico trip. I focused on tinctures I both had more difficulty making, felt I needed energy-wise, and had never tried. Usnea is an immune and respiratory strengthener, a cleansing forest herb. Yellow Pond Lily has a drying effect and energetically is in the same family as the Lotus, known for rising out of the mud to bloom, carrying the power of an ascending spirit, and can help redirect excessive sexual energy (or fluids!) into creative power, which is precisely how I need to channel mine.

Other items of note include my finishing this small Earth goddess statue out of Play-Doh, mostly for fun because I'm totally on a statue kick right now, in terms of working with, acquiring, and making.

This beautiful print was also at the thrift store, and while I wasn't about to pay what they were asking, I took a photo so I could either print it or paint it myself later. It has a wonderful healing energy to me.

Finally, I keep finding these little Fireball liquor one-shot bottles everywhere, of the same kind we brought to the Inanna ritual and drank as offerings. Why leave them when they're so useful? If not for potions, then for filling up from a Fireball "mother bottle" at home so I have some any time I need it --- whether as a pick-me-up, goddess offering, or whatever!

Festivals of Light