It started simply enough.
I've been a Harry Potter fan since before it was a fad. As I drank in the magic of a college quarter of Physics, Astronomy, Chemistry and Calculus – science freak that I am! – the HP series was right alongside in my imagination (and my bookbag), spurring me on to study, and to appreciate the delicious and fantastic in everything. Meanwhile, Professor Severus Snape was that one guy who, through his greasy aura and subtle sarcasm delivered like a main course of exquisite agony, could make my skin crawl. The kind of teacher I thanked the stars I never had to endure, and I assure you, disgruntled high-level Norwegian bachelor physics professors with tenure were bad enough. Like so many others, I consumed the books quickly, through Harry's eyes, and Snape, the sleeping snake, slithered in the background. And waited.
A few years later, an odd thing happened. I bloomed, and bloomed late. Lost my way in the steaming, creative, open-minded brew of a new city: Portland-effing-Oregon. (Check out the T-shirt!) Plans A through E fell through. And finally, my dear Mom and best friend, Leta, soared joyfully away to her own light-filled freedom, leaving one very confused, empty young woman and her very sad, equally confused, snarky Dad.
They call it the Quarterlife Crisis. What did I want to do now? Out of school, what did I want to study now? What did I want to live for now, truly and passionately, with all my heart? The cold, day-by-day persistant plodding! To find a way out of the blindness! Then along came a guide, an Animus figure, an inspiring mental and spiritual companion, as has happened before in my life. Sliding out of the darkness with a smirk on his lips, along came someone who knew all about bitterness, pain, regret, loss, emptiness, and death. Along came Snape.
THE CHANNEL: Magical Shape-shifting
Unleashing the inner Snape
Harry Potter is a series that frequently deals with themes of death, which can no doubt be a great asset for helping young people, especially, cope. While I'm fairly stoic, I still count myself fortunate that my mind latched onto Snape as a guide to pull myself back up by the bootstraps after this very sudden and close family death. Anything I get into deeply soon comes back out of me, visibly... just like Ginny Weasley with Tom Riddle's diary. So it wasn't long before Snape started pouring a little of himself back into me, and what with my being an artist, I made an art out of letting him do it. My hair, so long bleached blond, turned black and greasy, and I rejoiced at its health and silky feel. Half my wardrobe turned black, and I felt strangely free. As I whipped down the street, the rude catcalls ceased, replaced by admiring stares and teenage whispers of, "Man, that thing's badass." Proudly I claimed what I'd been all along, since beginning magic studies as a tomboy witch-girl at age 9 – a female warlock.
Makeup magic: a warlock in every witch
Best of all, resurrected in me by Snape's powerful influence were oft-buried loves and interests. The precise, analytical, yet sensory joy of chemistry. Secret languages, codes, and ciphers. Magical, healing plants. Ancient hermetic practices of evocation and alchemy. At last, a reawakening of passions. Thanks to Dr. Snape, the hungry young mind that once concocted dreadful mixtures in Mom's bathroom sink is now a practicing professional potist and Apothecary intern, on her way to more chemistry classes and a Certification in Planetary Herbal Medicine.
Preparing a potion
Being back in science is great. And "channeling" Snape, portraying him in all of his complexity, brilliance, and rich archetypes, is just plain fun. For me, he is both external and internal – a world-wide character sex symbol, yet a facet of myself: an Animus. I shape-shift into other forms, of course, but the Snape form really does fit like a velvet glove. (Potter-heads will note that all this, combined with a pride in a family lineage I can trace to a.d. 1066, sets me snugly in Slytherin House, but on that note, I have two mottos – our family's motto, "If they don't like it, f*** 'em" and "Pride, not hate". As Snape testifies, we may be clever and ambitious... but we're not all like Tom Riddle.)
So there you are! The story of The Woman who was, and is, Snape.
Friends have requested a blog, so others can see what my closest buddies already have – pics of me channeling Snape. It's basically just cos-play. But I can and do wield Photoshop, like a lot of folks do with altered Rickman portraits. I try to keep it minimum, so the clothes and makeup are all me, but I DO have to cheat on the nose (too much makeup, else!). My Snape tends to be less Rickman-esque, and more like Mary GrandPre's bearded Snape and/or J.K. Rowling's more bitter, 5-o'clock-shadowed Snape. This, of course, helps disguise the fact that I am, in fact, a transvestite Snape.
A different shape – Snape would dig nothing about this "M-Juice" hip-hop form I sometimes assume... except the snarl, that is!
I hope you enjoy these pics and tidbits as much as I am enjoying "coming out of the potions closet" finally – just in time for HP 7 #1!!! (Although I've heard he's only in one scene. Shucks.) Also on this blog will be little fics, poetry, and, yes, real potion recipes from a Master hopeful.
Disclaimer! –– Snape may be at large in the world, but I don't own him, he's still J.K.'s baby, so any Potter/Snape-related pics, writing, etc. shall not be claimed as my own or for profit.
Also, rude people – if you must, but keep it to creative criticisms and sophisticated snark, not this pathetic trash on some 'Net flame-threads. You may want to refrain from commenting thus at all – it wastes everyone's time, plus this poison-brewing warlock bitch will appreciate the opportunity to test her skills and sharpen her lenguum scalprum on you. Mmmmmm-yum.
The fun has just begun, sports fans!!!!!
BENE FACIS • • • SANCTUS SEVERUS BENEDICIMUS
