Geol Recap For Saxnot’s Hearth

 fainings and rites  No Responses »
Jan 132013
 

Glorious Geol altar.

 

Geol (or Yule as many Heathens call it) is arguably the most joyous celebration a modern Heathen can hope to take part in. Geol is a way to “wrap up” the year so to speak, and take some time to reflect on how the year went, as well as a chance to make some plans for the future. Many kindreds/ hearths/ theods et. al. Like to have their Geol celebration for their kin only, but this year we opened up our stead to our friends Aaron, Matt, Paul and Dave. This made for much merry making and feasting on the evening on December 22!

Per our Hearth’s tradition, we dedicated our faining to the god Woden. Woden is the proverbial “allfather” of the N European people and is associated with creativity, communication, magic, herbalism and war. I have identified with Woden for many years now, so Geol is always a very emotional faining for me, although as time goes on, I do find myself less attracted to just one god and more drawn to then entire pantheon of Anglo Saxon gods and goddesses. With that said, Woden will always have a special place in my heart and my practice, as it was his calling and advice that led me down this path initially.

Although we always try to incoroporate several traditional elements into our Geol faining and symbel, we like to add our own personal touches to it as well. One historical account (albeit quite a biased one) that I found interesting was the following quotation which my hiredmann Joe posted on our Hearth’s Facebook page. After reading this I felt inspired to try and add some elements of anthropomorphism and animal spirits to this year’s Geol faining. The passage states:

‘Not only celebrating feasts in the abominable places of the heathen and offering food there, but also consuming it. Serving this hidden idolatry, having relinquished Christ. If anyone at the kalends of January goes about as a stag or a bull; that is, making himself into a wild animal and dressing in the skin of a herd animal, and putting on the heads of beasts; those who in such wise transform themselves into the appearance of a wild animal, penance for three years because this is devilish.’

 

-Theodore, Archbishop of Canterbury, 668-690

 

The “kalends of January” may very well be in relation to the Heathen holy tide known as Modriniht (mother’s night), a post Geol ritual night where sacrifices would have been made. Since we all had standard Christmas obligation to our families on the 24th and 25th, we decided to try and add the element of a deer skin into our Geol faining, by placing one on our altar that was gifted to us by our friend Sam (one of the “controversial” hides I spoke of in my last post, no less!) For as much as the prospect of donning actual hides and/ or skulls appeals to me, our Hearth generally practices in our regular clothing, so we opted to add the hide to the altar’s bottom tier instead.

 

Also present on the altar is our ritual bodhran (drum), hammer, wreath, Geol lanterns, horn, and some personal décor I added for effect (a slate painting of a rather Heathen looking Old Man Winter and a sonnenrad/ sunwheel I crafted out of scrap metal.) I felt that the sun wheel was important, since Geol represents the end of the longest days of the year and the return of Sonna. In addition to my metal sculpture, a wreath was burned for Sonna as well, adorned with weeds that I usually put on from any number of herbal tinctures I have laying around. Their alcohol soaked leaves usually have the wreath almost exploding when it hits the flames!

Geol is always a most joyous time for my Hearth, and this year was no exception. I felt privileged to have so many great folk and friends in my midst, not to mention, some amazing food and drink later on. For most of my adult life, I openly loathed Christmas, deeming it a very consumer oriented ripoff and not spiritual at all. Once I learned of the true Germanic origins of Geol though (and the many “borrowed” elements used by Christians, such as the tree, wreaths and gift giving) I decided to look at the whole thing in a different light. It has since become one of my favorite times of year, and I look forward to celebrating many more of them with kith and kin. Wassail!

And of course, the ritual fire!

You Can’t Cheat Destiny

 rites and fainings  No Responses »
Dec 112012
 

A friend of mine was recently the cause of some minor controversy where she rents a house. Adjacent to her house are many barns where horses are boarded, and she has quite a bit of land (both pasture and wooded) to explore and utilize for various DIY and primitive skills projects, two things which she is passionate about and quite good at. After taking a buckskin tanning class, she’d been talking quite a bit about tanning her own hides, and she called me up very excitedly once she was able to get some from a nearby butcher. Hunting season has been quite prolific here in RI this year, so deer hides are certainly not in short supply.

The only problem was that after a few days into her hide tanning, one of the neighboring horse boarders (who described themselves as an “animal rights activist”) complained about the “spectacle” my friend was making. Keep in mind the major gutting and butchering had already been done elsewhere, so the amount of blood and gore was minimal, but this woman felt as though she needed to prevent my friend from finishing her hides because the visage of them was offensive to her.

 

A hex painted as a gift for a bowhunter friend of mine. The symbolism is to secure a safe and successful hunt.

 

My friend was understandably upset. She pays a lot of money to live on this property, which is in rather poor condition, and what she was doing was in no way cruel. The woman boarding the horse though, wouldn’t hear anything of it. My friend doesn’t know how serious this woman is about her commitment to animal rights (and in my opinion, unless she’s a hardcore vegan, she really has no right to complain about anything) but she is yet another example of how distanced our culture has become from the natural world, and the cycles it is predicated on. Namely the circle of life and death.

My friend is not a Heathen, but much like myself, she has a spiritual practice which believes that humans, animals, plants and the natural world in general are all imbued with spirit energies of various complementary (and often overlapping) frequencies. In my own Heathen practice this is not uncommon, as many of the gods had animal familiars, such as Woden with his ravens, wolves and horse, Thunor with his goats, Freya with her hawks, boars and cats, and Ing Frey with horses and boars. This belief seems to be consistent throughout most indigenous, tribal religions, and only seems to have gone out of vogue since the advent of monotheistic religions. This is something that I find rather disheartening, and one of the many symptoms of our separation from the natural world.

Divorcing ourselves from the natural world is certainly not healthy. How often do you hear someone say they “just want to get away from it all” and plan a getaway where they go camping, hiking, or some other similar activity? This seems consistent with just about everyone I know, yet very few people actually devote any significant portion of their lives (sans a few weekends per year) to actually enjoying the natural world, and even fewer are vested in the conservation of it.

Fewer still are invested in any kind of spirituality that has a connection to the natural world. I find this tragic because without the trees, water, plants and animals we wouldn’t be able to survive on this planet, yet it seems to be almost part of the modern worldview that it is perfectly ok to exploit and ultimately destroy nature in the name of human “progress”. To me it seems far more logical to revere, protect and honor the natural world rather than try to destroy it for monetary gain, as it is one of the only things “they aren’t making more of” so to speak. The short term payouts for such activity can never, ever equal the long term consequences of destroying the very planet we live on.

My spiritual practice gives much reverence to the natural world, particularly to our winged, furry, scaly and sometimes swimming companions. When our tribe (Saxnot’s Hearth) had to bury our Hearth protector Isa Bjorn, it was heartbreaking for us all, and as I delivered her final rites, we sent her off, not as a sacrifice or pet, but as one of the tribe, a warrior’s burial if you will. In my time with her, I learned a lot about how our canine and lupine companions communicate with each other and with us, and I knew very well when I looked into that dog’s eyes, that our souls were intimately connected through the fibers of Wyrd.

These experiences are invaluable to our growth as balanced, compassionate, sane people. What we are really lacking here in the western world though, is any healthy or coherent dialog about death. You can see this everywhere in our culture, from our obsession with trying to stay eternally young, to our obsession with keeping the elderly alive for as long as possible, while quarantining them in nursing homes. Death is something that terrifies us, and something that we simply cannot handle.

I too, once held some very juvenile opinions about death, particularly in regards to how I viewed animals. I was raised in a semi- rural part of New England, and I often witnessed my father’s side of the family treating animals as though they were expendable objects and nothing more. Later on as I got older I became fully entrenched in the animal rights movement, and was a vegetarian (and on/ off vegan) for about 15 years. I embraced this lifestyle as a way to deal with the often traumatic visages of animals being abused (and sometimes killed) in my presence when I grew up.

When I brought this up to my father some years later, he informed me that I would thank him later on for teaching me some valuable survival skills. While I can see his point, what was completely missing from his DIY boy scouts program was a sense of duty to anything higher than his stomach and his ego. It was simply, kill the animal, cut it up, and then eat it, with no reverence given to the animal’s spirit at all. I would have much rather been taught reverence for the animal and THEN the nuts and bolts of hunting and butchering, but at least later on in life I was able to find the deeper, more intrinsic meaning behind the slaughter of an animal than simply sport and nourishment.

Reverting back to a meat eating diet was as much about survivalism as it was about personal choice for me.  For about the entire time I was a vegetarian, I suffered from extreme depression, mood swings, an inability to concentrate on anything for any length of time, and a constant battle with alcoholism. I don’t advocate for any dietary choice, as people are free to do as they please, but I will say that if I hadn’t started eating meat again I would have most likely ended up institutionalized or dead.  I certainly can’t attribute ALL of my past emotional and addiction issues to a lack of protein and essential fats, but I’m quite sure that for someone already predisposed to depression, anxiety and mood swings, my vegetarian (and especially vegan) dietary choices certainly weren’t doing me any favors in that department.

Falling out of vegetarianism was difficult for me at first, as I still had quite a bit of guilt for going back on (what I thought) was a lifetime decision.  After I became almost completely re- programmed by my ancestral faith however, “primitive” practices such as hunting, meat eating, survivalism and other old world skills seemed as much a part of being a Heathen as lore study and the actual practice of the spirituality itself.  I definitely noticed a difference in my overall mood and mental well being almost immediately, and so did many of my friends.  They commented that I seemed more relaxed, more focused, and was generally much more pleasant to be around.  For those reasons alone, I knew I had made the right choice, and no longer felt guilty about eating meat like I did initially.

Once I reconnected with the circle of life, I decided the only honorable way to do so was to experience the death of an animal I would be eating first hand. This led to quite a few bow hunts, as well as quite a few butchering and barbecuing sessions dedicated to the preparation of venison, something I have since become very good at. My initial feelings of apprehension were quickly replaced with excitement, and finally gratitude as I cut up my first deer. From the moment of the arrow connecting, until the deer was in my mouth, a cycle had begun and was finally completed.

This is, in essence, how nature works. Nothing dies in vain and nothing goes to waste, it is only our modern, western (lack of) “consciousness” that feels as though we can somehow cheat destiny (not to mention rudimentary biology) and skip over the necessary components of the cycle. These are the unsavory, not so pretty, blood, guts, piss, shit and death parts of the cycle, but they are an integral part of it nonetheless. At some point in all of our lives we will lose someone we care about deeply, and we will also leave this mortal coil eventually. We must remember that the cycle will go on infinitely, and we must embrace that, no matter how difficult it may be.

Yule Cards For Sale

 artwork  1 Response »
Nov 292012
 

These are two Yule cards I had printed up years ago.  If anyone is interested in ordering them from me, they are high quality laser offset prints, printed on heavy stock.  Cards are standard 5.5″ x 4″ postcard size, and the prices are:

$7 ppd for six cards
$10 ppd for ten cards

You can mix and match any amount of either or get all the same card. Email me for details if you’re interested and I’ll give you my paypal as this site is not set up with a shopping cart.  Wes thu hal to all, and happy holidays!

 

 

Honoring The Dishonorable

 Uncategorized  No Responses »
Nov 162012
 

A collection of family heirlooms and keepsakes, bookended by a small replica of the Sutton Hoo helmet and a skull. These altar pieces represent and celebrate my Saxon ancestors from Wollaston, Northamptonshire UK.

The tradition of toasting can be found throughout cultures the world over. A toast is usually given at a feast or other formal event, and is usually given in honor of someone and their achievements. Toasts are often given in honor of people who have passed away, and it is this type of toasting which I’ll be talking about, specifically in the Germanic Heathen tradition known as “Symbel”

Symbel is a three round drinking ritual where toasts are made to various gods, heroes and ancestors. Although I am almost never at a loss for words when toasting gods, goddesses or heroes, it is the ancestral round which I often have problems with. Mainly because a lot of my ancestors weren’t necessarily the nicest, most honorable, most sane, or even the most vaguely admirable people at all. It is arguable if some of my ancestors are worthy of a toast in the first place.

This is an especially difficult conundrum when in the presence of other Heathens who extoll the past accomplishments and honorable deeds of their deceased family members, particularly during this time of the year (known to many Heathens and Pagans as Hallows, Samhain, Winternights and Winterfylleth) where ancestral rites are performed.  Sometimes when the mead horn is passed to me I’m at a loss when I reflect back on people like my parents. People who gave me life and were supposed to have loved me unconditionally, but who often chose to be careless, selfish, and downright cruel instead. Add to that, my father’s side of the family who (for the most part) stopped talking to me after my parents got divorced in 1987, and my grandmother on my mother’s side who I never really got along with, the amount of ancestors I can honestly raise a horn to with any bragging or praising becomes quite diminished.

In a nutshell, the ancestral round can often be like running a spiritual gauntlet for me. I’m never tongue tied when speaking about my maternal grandfather, as in my entire family, I consider him to have been the most honorable and admirable. There is only so much airtime I can give to him without starting to sound really biased though. The rest, well… they often present a very difficult challenge when I think about how they behaved while they were still here on this earth.

Sometimes the past comes back and bites me with a vengeance, and reminds me of who and where I come from whether I like it or not. This was totally apparent three years ago when I attended a party in my hometown in suburban, central MA. I have only set foot in my home town on a handful of occasions over the years, and always for very brief periods of time. One summer after getting re- acquainted, and quickly de- acquainted with a high school friend, I traveled up to my home town to meet up with her and her family for a Fourth of July party.

What I noticed right away is that my home town looked a lot like “the land that time forgot”. Virtually nothing had changed since I moved away from there 18 years earlier. Even though it was cool to see most of the local businesses still up and running and most of the woodland still in tact, it was really bizarre to see that the actual landscape and architecture of the town itself had remained almost completely the same.

Most of the people I met at the party were aging Boomers who had lived there their entire lives. They all seemed to know each other, had grown up together, and seemed to be REALLY interested in each others private affairs. It reminded me of exactly why I got the hell out of there in the first place. I couldn’t help but be amused though, and later on when a fire was lit and someone broke out an acoustic guitar, I decided to sing along with a few of the classic rock songs he was playing.

After I’d sung a couple of Beatles songs (which is ironic, as I really don’t like the Beatles very much) a man approached me and asked. “Hey, you look familiar, do you know Denis Morrissette?” When I heard this I froze. Denis Morrissette was my father, and was still alive when this man inquired with me about him. He had also grown up in the town I was hanging out in, but had moved to a neighboring ‘burb shortly after my parents got divorced in 1987.

My father was one word- nuts. Growing up with him I’d witnessed him kick cats, shoot dogs, beat up my mother, beat up me, knock my sister unconscious, get fired from almost every single job he had, and generally be an irrational, destructive asshole well over 90% of the time. He didn’t need to be under the influence of booze to do any of these things, in fact, it almost seemed like he was actually less of a jerk when he was inebriated. Later on after he’d been out of our lives for over a decade, my sister and I determined that he must have suffered from some type of multiple personality disorder or schizophrenia. At any rate, our memories of him were far from pleasant, and when he decided to make an encore appearance in my life in 2005 after tracking me down on google it took several very calm and patient people to talk me out of driving to his house and beating him to death. It seemed that he felt it was an appropriate time to write me several six plus page letters calling my dead mother every name in the book.

I must have turned every shade of green when this gentleman inquired about my father, but fearing that he may report back to him (my father had a bad habit of stalking people, namely my mother after she divorced him) I decided to lie by saying “Oh yeah, that’s my dad, he’s doing great!” The gentleman then continued to expound upon the fact that I looked, spoke and sung EXACTLY how he’d remembered my father singing, as well as having the same smart assed sense of humor. He’d remarked that my father and my aunt were always a lot of fun at parties, due to their musical and story telling talents, and that many of his old friends missed hanging out with them.

The fact that my father was at one time considered to be the “cool guy” at the party was something I just couldn’t get my head around. On the ride home later on I was completely at a loss. Was there something about my father that I missed? Had I been too harsh on him? Was he really that bad? Did my mother, my sister and I somehow MAKE him act like an abusive lunatic? All of these questions ricocheted in my brain to the point where I collapsed in total exhaustion once I’d gotten back home to RI, only to wake up feeling even more confused than I did the previous night.

After many torturous internal discussions over the years, I finally had to come to the resolution that my father actually did have some positive characteristics, although I had chosen to ignore and deny them after I stopped talking to him when I was 18. My father was indeed very talented musically, very charismatic and very intelligent. He was also very funny, and I can actually recall a small handful of times when I did enjoy his company. The overwhelming amount of cruelty in his actions though, was simply unforgivable.

So how do I honor someone like this? Or more importantly, why even bother honoring him? Well for starters, the resemblance between himself and I was apparently strong enough to get an entire group of his former high school classmates to remark about it, so the fact that he and I were of the same blood was pretty obvious. Do I simply pick and choose which aspects of him I find honorable and try to ignore the rest?

The answer to that question is difficult. I feel that any individual is the sum total of their deeds, and there is no way to undo the cruel treatment that my father showed me. I can however, speak of him honestly during a toast, and decide at that time if I choose to focus on his positive characteristics rather than his negative ones. A toast is never a time to be dishonest mind you, but it can be a time of healing, a time to vent, a time to heal, a time to laugh and even cry.

I have not forgiven my parents and I’m not sure I ever could. I am well aware that being angry at two people who are gone and can never be spoken to again is not healthy, but the damage they caused in my life as well as many of my other family members and even some friends of my family cannot be ignored or undone.

But, I can honor them for the gifts that they did pass onto me. The gifts of creativity, intelligence, resourcefulness and honor. They didn’t always display these virtues, and often failed miserably when it was imperative that they did, but I am grateful that they passed these gifts on to me. I still feel obligated to nurture those positive attributes while trying to starve the negative ones, even though the damage they did to me is far from repaired. I do this because I have no other choice, and I will not make up an alternate version of my childhood to try and suppress some very real issues and baggage I have.

I will not play the victim either though, or at the very least, I will try not to. I realize that if I were to go tit for tat with sob stories that there are a lot of people out there who have suffered far worse treatment from their family members than I have. In a way, I guess I am lucky to be surrounded by my mother’s artwork and to hear stories about my father’s entertaining teenage antics. I hope to someday be able to remember them as those people, rather than people I grew to excommunicate and eventually despise in my adult life. Perhaps one day I’ll be able to toast them, and in complete honesty say “Mom, Dad, I forgive you.”

I am still a long way away from doing that, and for the time being I aspire to merely accept rather than forgive my parents. I often wonder if forgiveness is a virtue worth lauding in the first place, and struggle between thinking that it is actually a very self centered act of capitulation, essentially a way of taking control of a situation in a very passive aggressive manner. I’m also skeptical of how sincere people who make statements like “I’m not angry at you, I’m just disappointed” and “you are beneath my contempt” actually are. These often come across like halfhearted attempts at trying to circumvent a situation where there is a perpetrator and a victim. A situation that the victim rarely feels comfortable with, and the perpetrator rarely admits to, yet a dynamic that our culture seems to fuel itself on.

This dynamic seems to be perpetuated by our modern consumerist culture that I hope to witness its demise of before I leave this mortal coil. This dynamic sadly seems to have infiltrated every single facet of our lives, even in places where it has no business rearing its ugly head.  It is the profane idea that everybody and everything essentially has a price tag.  This is an idea that is completely antithetical to people becoming self aware and empowered.  It is so pervasive in our society, I think people propagate it completely unconsciously.

I often felt like my parents put an actual value and exchange rate on their love and acceptance of me, thinking of me as yet another accomplishment or possession of theirs rather than an individual.  By the time I had reached adolescence they had changed quite a bit from their hippie days.  They seemed to equate their embrace of that status quo as a sign that they had grown up, when in fact, I’d argue they had actually regressed to a much more self centered, primal “id” state.

I find it tragic that neither of them ever gained the self awareness to realize the folly of their self centered behavior.  Perhaps it is my duty to try and cultivate alternatives to this unhealthy (and downright unnatural) programming now that my parents have passed on.  And to once again speak of our ancestral connection, perhaps in some way, they are actually cultivating their own self awareness through me.

Exploring The Os Rune

 artwork, divination  No Responses »
Oct 272012
 

The god is the creator of all language

wisdom’s foundation and consolation of sages

and every man’s joy and trust

 

-Old English Rune Poem, for the fourth rune “Os”

 

 

 

 

 

The “Os” rune in the Anglo Saxon Futhorc is a rune I draw frequently, often as a rune which illustrates future events. This rune is a bit complex, as it refers to simply “the god” and not any particular god in the Anglo Saxon pantheon by name. The rune poem was penned after the Anglo Saxons converted to Christianity, so the “god” referred to may very well refer to the Christian god. Upon closer inspection though, the god in question seems likely to be Woden. Woden is the “allfather” god, associated with communication and magic, so associating him with this rune would make sense. The Old Norse cognate of the word os is as or the plural aesir. As most Heathens know, this is the name for the family of gods whom Woden (Odin) presided over as the allfather.

What is significant about the Os rune to me is its association with communication and magic. Working off of Alaric Albertsson’s translation of the Anglo Saxon rune poem (as explained in his book Wyrdworking), the meaning of the Os rune can be elaborated upon as “Communication, inspiration and divine guidance”. I feel that description fits this rune well, particularly in terms of how it would be used magically.

Any magical, ritual, or simple act of creativity can be seen as an attempt to communicate information or ideas. When one is drawing or sending runes, or giving an offering to a god or ancestor, one is essentially petitioning otherworldly energies in hopes of a return in the form of blessings or information of some kind. Conversely, when one draws a picture, or writes a song, story or poem, one is releasing their own unique information and creation into the Multiverse.

 

An old flyer from one of my gallery openings, featuring a heraldic griffin superimposed over a Cen/ Os bindrune. This was later painted onto a sign I have in my “sculpture, woodwork, other” gallery.

 

A creative act, in essence can be seen as an act that is god like, ie- a divine creation which is unique to its creator. An object, tome, story or epic that was hitherto non existent in this world is now the divine progeny of the person who has brought it into existence. The Os rune exemplifies this divine inspiration to me perfectly. The “language” spoken of in it can mean any number of things from verbal to visual and even musical. The sages spoken of can be wise men or women who possess advanced knowledge in arts, literature, divination and healing. The allfather Woden seemed to have dabbled in a bit of all of these disciplines.

One cannot dismiss though, the importance of clarity and coherence in ones speech, which Os defines to me as well.  The user’s intent must be clearly stated or understood, and this is especially important in matters of magic, healing and divination.  Becoming acquainted with Woden and the Os rune has definitely made me become more aware of the power of language and communication of all kinds.  Hasty words and a loose tongue are things I try to be aware of in my own speech at all times, and my artwork and writing often go through many modifications and edits before the finished product is released to the public.

Os is essentially the same rune in all three of the Futhark rune rows, albeit with a slightly different appearance in the Anglo Saxon Futhorc (the rune known as Ansuz in the Elder Futhark is known as Aesc in the Anglo Saxon Futhorc, and roughly translates to “ash tree”.) I feel that the Old English translation for Os clarifies much more of the rune’s nature than the Icelandic or Norwegian poems do. The Icelandic poem simply states:

 

aged Gautr
and prince of Ásgarðr
and lord of Vallhalla.

 

With the Norwegian poem’s stanza being completely different than the old English or Icelandic poems.

 

Estuary is the way of most journeys;
but a scabbard is of swords.

 

To me, the Os rune will always epitomize the power and inspiration of the god Woden. A god who espouses creativity, divine inspiration, and advanced wisdom in all its forms. As my heraldic mock up illustrates, this rune almost looks like an ascendent figure, actually reaching towards the heavens (Asgard) in acceptance of greater wisdom and insight, yet still grounded here on Middle Earth through the rune Cen (which translates to pine tree and fire- the fire of the hearth and home). Os represents the wellspring of Woden’s advanced knowledge, and the power of communication and creativity. Hail Woden!

Finally A Cult Worth Joining- NY’s Cult Of Youth nail “it”

 Uncategorized  No Responses »
Oct 142012
 

Cult Of Youth picture, taken from lastfm.com

The “it” being the collusion of punk rock aggression and neofolk classicism. Normally I wouldn’t devote this space to promoting the creative endeavors of another artist, but I have been moved, transformed, and downright impressed by the band Cult Of Youth from Brooklyn NY, and feel that they deserve mention here due to the hours of listening enjoyment they have been providing me with lately.

First, a disclaimer- I am extremely picky about music. So much so in fact, that if one element of a particular band is just a bit “off” or lacking in my opinion, I’ll usually discount the entire project completely. I am also very particular about bands which I find to be inconsistent, which is exactly the reason why I can’t stand most “crossover” genres, such as folk metal, screamo, “Irish” punk, etc. Musical efforts like these often seem labored, contrived and overdone, with me thinking “yeah, that was a pretty good song until the bagpipes came in”. There is a lot to be said for simplicity, coherence and yes, even predictability when it comes to art.

At the same time, the over simplified nature of a lot of today’s “neo” or “apocalyptic” folk bands can grate on me as well. I am a big fan of Death In June and Sol Invictus, and have enjoyed their music for a few years now, but I have always thought (particularly with DIJ’s later period acoustic material) there was something lacking with many of these bands.

In all fairness though, I love what they’re doing, or at least trying to do. I consider them to be the best genre for the promotion of indigenous spirituality, in addition to great atmospheric/ ambient bands such as Wardruna, and more traditional folk bands like Frigg. The ability of these artists to create an appropriate ritual and festive tone to accommodate my spiritual practice is something I am very grateful for, but for a long time now, I’ve been thinking to myself “I wish SOMEBODY could get this 100% right.”

Cult Of Youth has done that, and they have done that in ways I didn’t think anybody was going to be able to pull off unless I commandeered musicians to do it myself!

What makes Cult Of Youth such an amazing band is that singer/ Svengali Sean Ragon has accomplished the task of putting together a band that captures both the primitive/ classical feel of neofolk and mixes it with the aggression of punk. The end result is driving, aggressive, catchy songs that grab your attention, but also have the mysticism and dark poetic elements that draw me to neofolk.  A mystical, occult image and lyrics coupled with the no bs execution of early punk rock seems like an unlikely combination, but Cult Of Youth pulls it off effortlessly.

Compatible bands that come to mind are obviously the neofolk outfits such as Death In June and Sol Invictus, as well as post punk such as Joy Division, early Bauhaus, and even Irish folk standards and a bit of early 80′s UK anarcho punk. The thing is though- they sound like all of this and yet none of it at the same time, which is the earmark of a great band. Predictable enough to keep you interested, yet varied and innovative enough to sound fresh, new and relevant without sounding derivative. In essence, when something new breathes fresh new life into an already existing tradition, or to quote the almighty Hex magazine, “old ways for a new day”.

And I feel that it’s worthy of mention that I was not at all surprised when I found out that Mr. Ragon originally hails from Cambridge MA, and cut his teeth on the punk scene in Boston before relocating to New York. There’s a certain, sturm und drang that Yankee punk rockers like Sean have that I picked up on immediately, being a former native of Massachusetts myself. Sean is almost a modern day re- interpretation of great, hyperactive Boston hardcore punk front men like Springa of SS Decontrol and Bryan Jones of Jerry’s Kids, albeit reborn with Heathen aesthetics, and real, classical, not-to-be-fucked-with artistic sensibilities.

Cult Of Youth are one of the few bands I would ever approach to play at one of my gallery openings, and not have a doubt in my mind that they wouldn’t fit in perfectly. I hope they inspire an onslaught of bands like them to start playing aggressive, no bullshit REAL music, because it is desperately needed in the current dismal state of the underground here in North America. We need more real life artists who approach their craft with the same viscera, courage and intent that these guys do, because good money says they’d be willing to fight, starve, bleed and possibly die to defend what they’ve created. In the handbasket we’re all in, anything less is unworthy of my attention.

 

Cult of Youth \”The Pole Star\” Music Video

 

Interview:

http://www.agitreader.com/features/cult_of_youth-02.28.html

 

 

 

There’s Something About The Runes…

 divination  2 Responses »
Oct 092012
 

I may come across as a rather mystical, superstitious person, but I am actually quite skeptical of anything and everything which qualifies as “supernatural”. Although I identify as a Heathen (which is a type of Pagan who follows Germanic traditions) I am usually far more dedicated to the accurate, historical, nuts and bolts reconstruction of my practice, and far less concerned with the mystical, personal, UPG (“unverified personal gnosis”) aspects of it. This is mainly because a community largely comprised of pragmatic, motivated, “git er done” types tends to be far more productive than a community comprised of cosmic witchypoo types who see elves, gnomes, sprites, etc. around every corner. I am happy to say that the former, rather than the latter describes the majority of Heathens I associate with in my area, and (I would like to think) largely describes myself as well.

Where I often throw people for a loop are the rare times when I describe what I do in my own personal practice (rather than the rites I perform in a group), particularly when it comes to my use of runes. Runes are initially what brought me to Heathenry, and when I read about them in Egil’s Saga, I finally decided “I NEED to learn what these symbols mean.” Chapter 73 of Egil’s Saga, states the following:

‘We had some runes carved,’ said Thorfinn. ‘The son of a farmer who lives close by did it, and since she’s been much worse. Do you know any remedy, Egil?’
Egil said, ‘It might not do any harm if I try something.’

When Egil had eaten his fill he went to where the woman was lying and spoke to her. He ordered them to lift her out of bed and place clean sheets underneath her, and this was done. Then he examined the bed she had been lying in, and found a whalebone with runes carved on it. After reading the runes, Egil shaved them off and scraped them into the fire. He burned the whalebone and had her bedclothes aired. Then Egil spoke a verse:

No man should carve runes
unless he can read them well;
many a man go astray
around those dark letters.
On the whalebone I saw
ten secret letters carved,
from them the linden tree
took her long harm.

Egil cut some runes and placed them under the pillow of the bed where she was lying. She felt as if she were waking from a deep sleep, and she said she was well again, but still very weak.

What has happened in this chapter is that Egil found an incorrect “prescription” of sorts being used to treat a girl who had fallen ill. When I read this, it became apparent to me that runes were actually used magically at one time, in this case for healing purposes. Previous to reading Egil’s Saga, I had only ever heard of the runes being used for divination, in a way which seemed very new agey and not traditional at all. After their historical significance had been confirmed to me, I set about the task of learning as much as I could about them. This has become a bit of a Pandora’s Box , as the more I use them and (think) I know about them, the more complicated they actually become.

I am now on my third set of runes which I use primarily for divination, although I have also employed them in healing and protective applications. The two preceding sets I had both worked out great for me in the beginning, but ended up being problematic after awhile. Although I always recommend that people craft their own ritual and magical items, sometimes a good argument can be made for the precision and uniform nature of machine made cards, game pieces, etc. The reason for this is that it is far less likely that cheating can occur if the objects being put to use are all of similar size, shape and texture.

Due to the hand crafted nature of my runes, the imperfections and idiosyncrasies present in many of them ended up with me being able to cheat with them after awhile. Once this started to happen I knew it was time to move onto another set of runes, although I didn’t get what I consider to be a “fool proof” set until I made the ones you see in the picture, which are made from wooden craft disks, all of completely uniform size and texture.

I’m not certain that I began cheating consciously, but after awhile I was able to discern the different irregular edges of the runes in my previous rune sets (the first set was carved into discs cut from the branch of a crabapple tree, and the second was painted on beach stones). Eventually I could tell which rune was missing just a tiny bit of bark from its edge, and which runes had a bit of a jagged top which hadn’t been rounded quite as much from the waves of the ocean. Add to to that, the carved surfaces of the individual wooden runes were easy to decipher after awhile, much like braille, as were the raised surfaces (due to the use of Testor’s model paint) of the stone runes I’d made to replace the wooden ones.

When I finally switched to a set made from uniform, machine cut wooden discs, I knew that cheating would be next to impossible. Add to that, my method for marking them was with black drawing ink, rather than thick paint which could end up as a raised surface on the top of the disc. The black ink soaked right into the surface of the wood, leaving no three dimensional effect at all.

Now that I have a more or less iron clad set of runes, I’ve become more confident in my readings, and strangely, they’ve been no less accurate than they were when I thought I might be cheating with them. When I do my daily past, present and future reading, they frequently re- order themselves the next day in a way which is congruent with what they were the previous day, with the previous day’s future rune becoming the present day’s present rune, and previous day’s present rune becoming the present day’s past rune. This happens to me on a regular basis, so much so that I began to get a little frightened by how consistent and accurate my readings were.

Since my daily rune readings started to become a bit more intense than I felt comfortable with, I decided to try my hand at a different divination system. I did this mainly for the purpose of providing a litmus test to see if I do in fact have a talent for divination, or if it is simply “all in the runes” themselves. I actually read tarot cards for a number of years starting in my early teens after inheriting a book called The Tarot Revealed from my mother, but I no longer have any affinity or aptitude for tarot . I am also largely disinterested in crystal balls, tea leaves, hazel nuts, or any of the other popular divination methods used by Pagans, with the exception being the art known as cartomancy, or divination by using a deck of standard playing cards.

 

A recent nine rune reading, beginning with the elusive Calc (chalk) rune and ending with Thorn. This spread illustrates conflicts at my workplace, with hidden allies working behind the scenes.

 

Cartomancy is a bit of a family inheritance of mine, as my memere on my father’s side used to read our fortunes using a regular deck of playing cards all the time. Since card games were popular with members on both sides of my family, and being that I’ve become an avid cribbage player over the past year, it made sense for me to pursue this as an inexpensive, alternative divination method to my runes. The familiar, iconic visages of card suit symbols have a mystical and innate power unto themselves, so utilizing them for divination as well as gaming purposes seemed like a good fit.

After some research I finally decided to buy a cheap deck of Lenormand cards and give them a try.  The Lenormand deck was engineered by the French mystic Marie Anne Lenormand in the late 19th century (around the same time the tarot was gaining in popularity) and since it is based off of a regular deck of playing cards, it seemed like something that was worth looking into. With the stark simplicity of the images (verses the often overly grandiose illustrations of most tarot decks, especially contemporary “theme” decks), it seemed like a decent accompaniment to my runes.  The standard Lenormand deck is 36 cards, and the runes I use are the 33 rune Anglo Saxon “Futhorc” runes, so the amount of symbolism in one verses the other is about even.

The comparison of a few three rune and three card readings after a period of about five days were all pretty much dead on, but I decided to do a larger spread of each to see if there really was any correlation between the two systems. The summary of the rune reading was essentially that I have had concerns about my current employment and will meet up with opposition and challenges connected to that. However, behind the scenes, some friends and colleagues are working in my favor, even though all eyes/ spears (the Gar rune) are on me for the time being.

Comparing this with my Lenormand reading, (where the cards read like a sentence) was essentially the same. In the end, both readings indicated potential problems and conflicts at my job, but also indicated that friends and allies are looking out for my welfare behind the scenes. The rune reading is far more intuitive (and obviously far less illustrative) than the Lenormand reading, but both readings drew essentially the same conclusion. The Lenormand also got it right with the fact that I work nights, and travel is involved in my occupation, as illustrated by the interplay of the top line of cards.

 

A Lenormand five card reading, with an additional five cards below for clarity. I am new to this system, and may not be 100% correct in my reading, but the outcome compared to my rune reading was VERY close.

 

After investing so much time into rune reading, I certainly do not intend to replace or combine them with my Lenormand cards, but comparing the two was an interesting experiment. Again, I still remain rather dubious of the efficacy of anything related to divination, seeing, psychic powers, etc. but I’m starting to believe that the sheer amount of man hours I’ve invested in these pursuits is starting to come to fruition. Since I am of the opinion that the tools used matter far less than the ability of the user him/ herself, in the end I am actually not very surprised by the similarity between the two readings that I did.  I am also happy to bring back a bit of my memere’s cartomancing, albeit with newly produced (yet classicaly illustarted) Lenormand cards rather than her Bicycle standbys from my youth.  This was actually therapeutic for me in a way, because as a practitioner of my ancestral spirituality, my French side has certainly been lacking!

As an endnote- I am VERY curious to hear from any other diviners out there who have ever done a comparative test like I have.  If your results were anything like my own, you provide further proof that finding potency in a system has more to do with the user’s abilities than the system itself.

 

 

A Proper Burial

 rites and fainings  1 Response »
Oct 012012
 

“It is believed that Valholl had the Unique Warriors (Einherjar), the elite. It is easy to understand why the Germans dreaded to die bedridden; if they were of risk of this, they asked those close to them to mark their bodies with spears.”

C. Lecouteux The Return Of The Dead, p. 148

I had just finished yet another of Claude Lecouteux’s amazing books, this one entitled The Return Of The Dead- Ghosts, Ancestors and the Transparent Veil of the Pagan Mind. In addition to some of his other great titles (Phantom Armies Of The Dead and Witches, Werewolves And Fairies) this book served as an excellent link between ancient pre- Christian Germanic traditions and later period medieval “occult” practices. Like all of the books I’ve read by Lecouteux, The Return Of The Dead was a quick read, due to the fact that I was completely engrossed in it for a manner of only a few days. I tend to be a very slow reader, and often retain only a small percentage of what I actually read the first time around. The Return Of The Dead though, proved to be a different experience than what I’m ordinarily used to.

The Return Of The Dead is a very entertaining and informative book, but there was a part of me that thought “at some point I’m going to have to utilize what I’ve learned in this book in a very ‘hands on’ manner” as the entire time I was reading it, it struck me as much more of a “how to dispose of the dead honorably” manual than just another book of academic knowledge or lore study. This book really spoke to me, and what it was saying was “someday you’ll have to actually apply what you’ve just learned here” so when I got a text from my hiredmann (kinsman) Joe, I knew that soon I would actually be put to the task of performing an honorable Heathen burial rite for the newest member of our tribe.

Joe’s text informed me that his beloved Malamute pup Isa Bjorn would have to be put down. Isa had been suffering from epileptic seizures which have unfortunately become more and more common with Malamutes in recent years, and he informed me that she recently had one which had lasted over two minutes. When a seizure lasts over a minute, permanent brain injury can result, and since Isa’s seizures were becoming more common (and more severe) Joe and his wife Nina decided to have Isa put down. Being that I am the ealdor of my hearth, they both decided that my presence would be necessary at the time of Isa’s departure, and this was not something I was about to argue with.

I will admit that I do not handle death well at all. Over the years I have lost many friends, loved ones, three out of four grandparents and both of my own parents, and I have still only gone to the funerals and wakes that I absolutely had to attend. Any situation where I could get away with skipping out on the services of a casual acquaintance or friend of of a friend, I most certainly did.

I’m not sure exactly what puts me off so much about the way the dead are commonly disposed of in our society, but I think the fact that their passing is almost always put into the hands of the medical community is something I have a lot of trouble dealing with. Almost everyone I’ve known who has passed on (with the exception of those who took their own lives) spent their last remaining moments in a sterile, cold, unwelcoming hospice or hospital setting, to later on be transported to a church or funeral home of equal, unwelcoming sterility. At no time was anyone allowed to die in their own home, much less be buried, cremated, or otherwise disposed of in the way they probably would have WANTED to have been, much less in a way befitting of the vibrant, creative, active and inspiring personalities of many of those close to me who have passed on.

I felt it would be a crime to have this happen with Isa, and I was relieved that Joe and Nina felt the same way. Rather than have her put down by a vet (once again, in a sterile, unfamiliar, uncomfortable and unnatural environment) we opted to have her put down on Joe’s family property by a friend. Her coffin was prepared by Joe and I, and marked with a valknut and the runes Ear, Ior and Daeg (death, transformation and happiness). I prepared these at the last minute in hopes that they would be appropriate markers for her journey into the otherworld. We also buried her with runes, her favorite toys, food, and the same knife I splashed mead on her with as a blessing when we welcomed her into our Hearth. To once again quote Lecouteux; “Even in the nineteenth century, Swedish peasants placed the pipe and knife of the deceased- and sometimes even a flask of brandy- in the coffin with him.” (p. 159) We wanted Isa to be happy and content on her journey, and these elaborate grave goods were our way of trying to make sure she had everything she could want or need, once again, a tradition which was common to the funerary rites of our ancestors.

Isa passed without incident, and had no idea when the bullet was fired. Dispatching her in this way was congruent with the general theme stated in the opening quotation by Lecouteux, as Isa was a warrior, friend, hunter and true member of our Hearth. Nothing short of a battle wound would have been an honorable way for her to go. Her death was incredibly sad for us all, but also a bit of a relief, as her high energy spirit could never be truly happy if she was kept artificially animated by pharmaceuticals and routine hospital visits. The unfortunate situation in our modern world is that quantity of life is often chosen over quality of life, and for one of Woden’s wolves, that is not an acceptable position to be in.

So with Isa gone, we forge ahead, and although I wasn’t very well prepared when sending one of our kin off, I was glad to have read Claude’s book when I did, and honored to have given Isa her final rites. Death is never fun, glamorous, or easy to deal with, but I do have some comfort in knowing that Joe and Nina’s beloved wolf was sent to the otherworld, not as a sacrifice or a pet, but who she truly was- a warrior.

Hail Woden’s wolf! Protector, hunter, friend of the Hearth!

Halletan Isa Bjorn,

Hail Isa!

The Seed Of Creation

 artwork  No Responses »
Sep 272012
 

My previous website was called badgerhexart.com, but when the hosting ran out on it, I decided to retire not only the content, but the site name as well.  The reason why I did this is because I am uncomfortable with titles such as “hexenmeister”,  or other such PA Dutch related monikers being connected with myself.  In the past I have railed against cultural appropriation (particularly in the pagan community where it runs rampant) and decided that I was indeed, being a bit of a hypocrite be presuming to have some stake in a magical practice I had no genuine  connection with.

Since then I have made the acquaintance of a man named Rob Schreiwer, whom I met at a Troth event I vended at in June of 2012.  Rob was an energetic, dynamic individual and also the head of his own kindred (or Sippschaft as they call it) who gave a fascinating presentation on the PA Dutch Heathen practice known as Urglaawe.  Knowing that the proliferation of this criminally overlooked tradition is in the good hands of Mr. Schreiwer, I have decided to back off from “hexes” a bit, and concentrate on other writing and artwork- particularly pen and ink illustrations.

Does this mean I’ll never paint another hex sign?  Of course not!  Much like mandalas, hex signs are an art motif first and foremost, and most of the PA Dutch Heathens I spoke with claimed to be flattered to see them gaining in popularity.  When and if the urge strikes me again, I will indeed create more of them, but they will always be done in my own personal style.

What I took away from painting so many hexes is the significance of some of the really ancient symbolism many of them have, particularly a shape known as the rosette.  The rosette is a six pointed floral pattern which can be drawn by adding six sweeps of a compass inside a circle drawn with the compass’ same radius.  Since this can easily be replicated by using a bent stick, and either scribing it into the ground or burning one end and drawing it on stone (or a cave wall perhaps?) it is highly likely that rosette shapes date back to Paleolithic times.  When the rosettes overlap and repeat, they make the popular “seed” or “flower of creation” design seen here.

 

Flower of creation

Since the beginning of my experience with Heathenry, my practice has been concentrated mostly on Anglo Saxon traditions, with other Germanic influences inevitably creeping into it as well.  From here on out though, I’ll be leaving the PA Dutch and continental German traditions alone, sans the inevitable overlap they have with my own Anglo Saxon practice.  PA Dutch and German traditions are much better represented by those who specialize in them, and as a non German boy from New England, trying to wangle my way in on them would be quite pretentious on my part.  Not to mention, I have met and corresponded with some really great people in the Anglo Saxon Heathen (ASH) community (Ron Boardman, Fred Bowen, Thorbert Linleah and Alaric Albertsson) whom I consider to be some of the most dedicated and dynamic Heathens today.

The haunting, hypnotizing, fascinating hex visages become nothing less than an obsession after a while.  Their geometry and balance will leave an indelible memory on both the conscious and subconscious states of the viewer, as they effectively stimulate both the right (creative) and left (analytical) brain processes simultaneously.  I see them as timeless- combining the ancient with the modern and transcending into the future.  A tribute to just how ancient they are, with particular regard to the rosette, is illustrated in this series of prints I did called “La Naissance De La Conscious” or “The Birth Of Consciousness”.

 

A tribute to the primordial spiritual awakening of my French ancestors.  Available as a screenprint for sale.  Contact me for ordering info.

Hex signs will of course always comprise a very important part of my artistic repertoire, but the time has come to expand and move on.  The future will see me creating many more visages dedicated to the old, the new, the natural, the ethereal, and of course- to consciousness (including the sub, non and un states).

 

Wassail,

Badger

 

Freyfaxi 2012

 rites and fainings  No Responses »
Sep 232012
 

On the evening of the Autumn Equinox (September 22, 2012) my inhered and I celebrated our annual faining for the god Ing- Frey.  Being quite thankful for the bounty of gifts he had bestowed upon us for the last year, we honoured him with herbs, runes, mead, seeds, fruits, and a special wreath for our fallen canine compatriot Isa Bjorn.  We decorated a special ve for him, with a great stag candle holder being the centerpiece.

Side view of the ve we made for Ing Frey.

Ing Frey is a special god to us, as his circulation throughout the ancient Germanic world is fairly widely documented.  Many medieval English kings claimed to be his descendents, and he was also thought to be the father of the land spirits, or alfar.  We associate his visage with horses, stags, and of course- all things green.  He was indeed a very multifaceted deity, much like the majority of Germanic gods and goddesses.

 

And what is an ancient rite without a fire to go along with it!?

Once again, we ask our beloved Ing Frey to bless us health, wealth and the strength to persevere.  Frey is truly a god of kings and a god of the earth- Hail Frey!