Magic, Liberation, & Loki
This is the book where my beloved muse, Loki Laufeyjarson, makes an entrance. And boy, does he ever! I can’t wait for this book to burst into the world!
The first two books, The Dire Deeds and The Witching Work, are found on Amazon and Kindle! Stay tuned to this page for more exciting news!
Perhaps never before have so many people wearing black gathered in one place at the same time in Eugene, Oregon. Yes I know the Eugene/Springfield area is chock full o’ pagans, and the University of Oregon probably contains a fair percentage of post-goth goths in its student population, but wow, I was pleasantly surprised by the crowd. Startled by a scare actor just inside the concession tent, I was flooded with a fuzzy warm feeling of belonging: “yes, these are my people…”
While it wasn’t a date-date exactly that I was sharing with my partner in prose, the esteemed science fiction and erotica writer, M. Christian, I’d say our visit to the Paranormal Cirque was one of our very best forays into the “slowly emerging from Covid-land” Eugene scene to date. We’re both ex-pats from the San Francisco Bay Area and we share a hunger for anything that reminds us even remotely of our former haunts. Even the genital-shaped waffles for sale at the concession stand were a ribald reminder of… well, I don’t know of what exactly as they weren’t gluten free (I asked) so could not sample them…but perhaps similar goodies have been sold at the Folsom Street Fair in SF, along with maple-syrup flavored lube.
M. Christian and I attended the 5:30 PM show on Sunday, April 23rd. Paranormal Cirque had set up at the Lane Events Center on 13th Avenue and parking was a breeze (or maybe I should say “a foul wind tainted by the feotid odor of evil” just to set the mood).
As for mood, as we had hoped and expected, the ambiance inside the first black and red tent was classic haunted house: mouldering headstones inscribed with the names of horror actors, iron fences tipped by pointy things, scare actors scaring, loud banging noises, skeletal remains… M. Christian noted that the food prices were reasonable, but as neither of us had cash, we could not indulge. For the same reason we had to pass on the horned masks and other souvenirs. But, hey, the same scare actor screamed at me on two separate occasions. I think he liked me.
And then it was time to enter the larger tent to find our seats. Mine was located directly under a large lighting fixture just inches from the top of my head. (Good thing I’m short.) At one point, one of the ushers, a tall fellow with long dark hair, escorted someone else to a nearby seat, and our eyes met. I was thinking “that young man could easily be cast as an Elf in one of my fantasy novels” and he was most likely thinking, “why’d they seat an old person right under that light? She/they/ze are bound to crack their noggin!” (But hey, what’s a little blood when you’re among fellow horror circus aficionados?)
Actually, someone did take a tumble on the ramp next section over and I was impressed by how quickly two ushers went to her aid. There was no serious harm.
Inside the main tent, we had time to take in the gothic horror castle stage set in the center ring. And there was plenty going on before the show started. For example, one man was taking pictures of audience members with his scary two-headed doll (or ventriloquist dummy?). It happened to me. He shoved the thing into my arms (probably clocking me as someone who would never have grandchildren) and snapped the shot. But not before I asked if there was a charge. (Remember, no cash.) Oddly, having something of that size on my lap did trigger fond memories of my own (single-headed) offspring, ever so long ago. I patted the thing on one of its touseled heads before it was pulled from my clutches.
I think it’s fair to say the audience was psyched. People had dressed in their (Black) Sabbath best and were absolutely determined to enjoy themselves. As were we. You could sense the collective shiver of an-ti-ci-pa-tion!
The entire thing grabbed me from the very first moment of the show. I wish now that I could remember every single thing that happened, in the exact sequence, but I can’t. I seem to remember the opening as vampire vixens crawling seductively on the stage, thirsting for blood and all that, and being thwarted by their master. So, yeah, kinky stuff right off the bat. Or were they preceeded or followed by the three agile zombie acrobats jumping rope? (And they weren’t just jumping rope, they were doing all kinds of things as well as jumping rope.) And just when did the two comics show up, making jokes about social media while their doom was writ large by a giant coffin and its contents?
By this point I already wanted to know who all these people were, but there was no printed program!
And then the sword swallower appeared and never have I seen a more impressive redheaded woman in red rhinestone warrior bikini! She was an exceptionally charismatic performer and probably broke more hearts that evening than I’ve broken in a lifetime. This was a great act! And I liked that she was incredibly sexy but not crawling around on the floor doing anyone’s bidding. That made a nice change. I’d much rather see presumed males writhing at her feet. I imagined she would too.
The show just kept getting better. There wasn’t one moment where I was bored. There were all kinds of comic routines, a two-man tight rope act, more tumbling acrobats tossing each other around, two matching “dolly” contortionists, and a well-choreographed Master vampire and willing victim acrobat duo. But aside from the sword swallower, my two favorite acts were the strange stalking demon on stilts who menaced an aerialist (this was very hot!) and the Wheel of Death.
The press release describes this as “jaw-dropping” and it truly was.
This act required so many feats of agility and precision proprioception that I was completely agog. Now, I’ve been to several different circuses or circus arts performances in my lifetime: Ringling Bros. (once or twice), Pickle Family Circus (several times), Acrobats of Canton, and several Cirque du Soleil incarnations. I’ve enjoyed them all. But never have I ever been so astonished as I was by what these men (not the ones pictured above) did on that twirling device without a pad or a net beneath them. Holy shit, how does one even train for such stunts? Leaping and jumping within the open-sided cylindars with coordination that must surely have taken at least a dozen vampire lifetimes to master. I was watching the miraculous made to look effortless. I could have sobbed with joy but was too struck with wonder for tears.
This. This was what I came for. Not the sexy vampires, or the ribald comic routines–even though those were fun. I came because I wanted to be amazed. I got so much more than my money’s worth.
After the show, as M. Christian and I walked down the ramp to the exit, I saw one of the two men standing at the side of the ramp, dripping with sweat. I applauded him as we passed by. And to think, he was going to have to do that all over again during the 8:30 show!
It’s not enough for me to appreciate this artist as an anoymous cog in the Wheel of Death. I do want to know about him and his performance partner. Who are they? How long have they been doing this? How did they train?
As a fantasy author and witchy blogger, I knew I needed to write about this experience. So today I called the corporate office of Cirque Italia, the parent company of Paranormal Cirque. Because there was no printed program, and nothing on the Paranormal Cirque website about the performers, I wanted to ask more about the performers and a little something about the circus itself. I spoke to a very kind marketing rep who provided me with a copy of the press release as well as some of the pictures that I’ve used in this blog. She has passed my number on to Steve and Ryan, who are the managers as well as the ribald comics. Here are the questions I emailed to the marketing rep to pass along to the managers:
1) Was this the Paranormal Cirque’s first visit to Eugene? (I thought I heard that somewhere.)
2) Is Paranormal Cirque II usually the West Coast/Pacific Northwest company?
3) Why don’t we know more about the various performers? It seems like an online program could be available as a download from the website and easily edited as performers change. Knowing who they are, how they train, and what kinds of acts they do now and have done in the past, is always interesting for audience members. And it gives the press something to work with also!
4) Who are the performers in the current Paranormal Cirque II traveling through Oregon?
–Who are the Wheel of Death performers? THEY WERE AMAZING!!!
–I’d like to know a little about all of them really–the sword swallower (very good), the demon on stilts (amazing body language) and the aerialist (also good!), the group of three acrobats, the two men on the tightrope, the “twin dolly” contortionists, the singer…I know I’m leaving out a lot of the acts…
–And Steve and Ryan, very funny! What’s their story?
–I am also curious about where many of your performers have trained in circus arts.
5) I also wonder about the decision to create an adult humor/horror themed cirque? I loved it, and obviously others do as well, but I notice that you also have other Paranormal Cirque companies touring in conservative midwestern states and Florida (yes, I know your corporate office is there). Is there any push-back from communities that are visited? Do you have to adjust your material slightly depending on whether the tour is West Coast/PNW or not, or is it all the same?
6) Finally, are the genital-shaped waffle makers always with the company? Or are they local? What about the other vendors?
I just heard (via email) that Steve will call me back when he can. But I am publishing this before I talk with him in the hopes that people in Eugene/Springfield will see this and catch the last performance in Eugene, which is tonight. Once I do talk with Steve, I’ll update this blog posts with the answers.
For tickets, go to ParanormalCirque.com or call 941-704-8041. Their next stop will be in Corvallis, OR, from Aug. 27 through May 1. If you missed them in Eugene, Corvallis is only 48 minutes away. And you can see their discount promo code in the image below, bottom left.
It’s not that I’m obsessed, I have a sexological interest. I once wrote an encyclopedia entry on “Penile Gastronomy” for the Cultural Encyclopedia of the Penis.
This happened during Merrie Monarch week in Hilo, HI. Please watch Kumu Hina’s entire statement to learn about the incident.
Here is her text:
<<PLEASE SHOW YOUR ALOHA FOR TWO BELOVED KUPUNA OF OUR HAWAI’I
Kupuna Iwalani Evelyn Walsh Tseu and Kupuna Melveen Leed
The nerve of what was done them! Auwe! Hewa Loa!
PLEASE HOWEVER I DO NOT ADVOCATE FOR VIOLENCE OR RETALIATION AGAINST THE INDIVIDUAL WHO MISTREATED THEM MAHALO
Email daniel.kea@brookfieldpropertiesretail.com [the one who caused the incident]
And for the official record
my email is hinaleimoana@hawaiiancouncil.org>>
Please see the links for more information about the immense accomplishments of the kupuna Iwalani Evelyn Walsh Tseu and Melveen Leed.
For more information about Kumu Hina, please see https://www.pbs.org/independentlens/documentaries/kumu-hina/
Pau.
OMG, after several years of labor…the paperback of the second book in The Guild of Ornamental Hermits series is here, before its “due date”! You can get it now at at https://amzn.to/3nP15zf
(P.S. The Kindle edition is a Pisces.)
(P.S.S. The “mauthor” is doing well, but resting…)
☽☆☾
My regrets about my expensive liaison with the recent Shen Yun performance didn’t wait for the “morning after.” They gathered steam before the main event had even started, when the glossy Shen Yun “Premium Collections Catalog” of “Beauty. Divinely Inspired” was put into my hand by a tidy young person at the merchandise table. I flipped through it while standing (and standing) waiting for the auditorium doors to open so I could sit in an enormous room stuffed with people mostly not wearing masks and mostly wearing too much fragrance, all because I wanted to “treat myself” to a dollop of entertainment magic, something I sorely needed. As readers of this blog may have gleaned, I am a huge fan of the Chinese fantasy series, The Untamed, and have particularly admired the dance-like choreography of the fight scenes.
I’m a sucker for dance, anyway, and the promotional videos for Shen Hun (relentlessly featured on social media sites) promised considerable technical dance expertise, color, and movement, that might–perhaps–leave me marginally more culturally informed about traditional Chinese dance forms than previously.
And as I said, I have yearned for “a treat.” It’s been a hard three months and I was ready for immersion in splendor. Alas, splendor was not to be found.
For example, I did not find splendor, let alone cultural information or “divinely inspired” beauty in the catalog. Luxurious western-style handbags dubbed “The Mulan Leather Collection” (ranging from $580 for a tote to $260 for a clutch purse) did not, for me, conjure the spirit of “the heroic Hua Mulan.” I don’t even care if they come in “five essential colors” of “Mint, Navy, Tan, Pink, and Burgundy.” I was not seduced by the “Heavenly Pheonix Fine Jewelry Collection” though the price tag was splendid enough: the necklace was $1,180.
Nor was I tempted to purchase the masculine Han Xin Scarf, a “wool blend made in Italy,” as an offering for my (sometimes male, sometimes not) favorite Trickster deity. The “military genius” of the legendary Han Dynasty general, for whom the scarf was named, would not rub off on anyone foolish enough to be gulled by the copywriter. (Long ago, in another dynasty far, far away, I used to write copy for The Sharper Image catalog. I know whereof I speak!)
This catalog, with its backcover invitation to “join us for a cultural Renaissance that runs 5 millenia deep,” left me cold. I was not tempted to RSVP. And why was this, aside from lack of funds?
Well, earlier in the morning of the day of the performance, I had done what I usually do (but had neglected to do in this case): visited the Shen Hun and then the Falun Dafa (Falun Gong) websites. And then the usual Wikipedia and other articles. I began my search wanting to know more about the dancers’ training and ended it knowing what I wish I’d known before. Ooopsie.
To my immense consternation and regret, I found I had given my hard earned money to the entertainment wing of a racist, homophobic religous cult that also runs a right-wing media network that supports twump, Q-Anon, and anti-vax positions. Yes, Falun Dafa (Falun Gong) has been kicked out of China and apparently members have been persecuted… but knowing that this same religious cult advocates the persecution of others in this country… well, I felt no sympathy. Do as you would be done by.
However, I went to the matinee performance anyway and there I was accepting the pernicious catalog from the hands of people who would absolutely reel in disgust had they known they’d had momentary contact with a Westernly decadent, non-binary sexologist/witch.
Here’s where I feel sorry for all the little girls, dressed as if for a Nutcracker performance, and for all the grandparents and parents who also used their hard-earned cash to provide “a treat” for their families. Here’s where I also feel sorry for the obviously talented, immensely hardworking, dedicated dancers who give their all to deliver such mediocre material. For all its color, pagentry, and clever (patent-granted) digital background tech, the entire first act left me cold. The odd religious opening with digital imagery featuring a towering white guy on a winged horse, with millions of celestial minions trailing after him at his command to “save Earth”–presumably by incarnating as Falun Dafu members who will find each other via the discreet Shen Yun gold-tone metal insignia on a Mulan tote or classifieds in the right-wing Epoch Times–had nothing inspiring about it.
As for those little girls in Nutcracker finery who sat through the “Unprecedented Crime” number, wherein Falun Dafu meditators are kidnapped from a public park by Communist Party members (dressed in black, ‘natch) to have their organs harvested… well, how was this explained post-performance, at the dinner table? “I’m sorry, darling, but we took you to a cult indoctrination performance by mistake. I’ll make it all up to you by reading you the next chapter of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest at bedtime, ‘kay?” (For those who don’t know, Ken Kesey is a cultural hero in these here parts.)
So I sat there, in my mask, amidst the fragrance fumes wafted by theater-goers who hadn’t gotten the Hult Center memo advising attendance fragrance-free, and grew ever more annoyed. I felt ripped off, durn it, and I’d done it to myself. I contemplated leaving at intermission.
By the time we got to the tenor (who according to the program was scheduled for the second act), who sang a dreary tune called “Fail Ye Not,” I’d just about had enough. And when he got to the lyrics “atheism and evolutionary theory harm mankind” (English translations projected on the screen at the back of the stage), it was the final straw.
This Westernly decadent, non-binary sexologist/witch who accepts the science of evolution was just about to bolt from her seat and stumble up the stairs in protest when the lights came on and intermission was called!
I was swifter then than all those women who needed a restroom stop so urgently, and had bolted up one flight of stairs from the lobby to the parking lot quicker than you could say “waving bright red flags, two communist enthusiasts scour the streets for violators of the regime’s many restrictions.” That’s a quote taken from the description of the final number on the program, “Divine Renewal of the Human World.”
The entire thing, from beginning to the end, from the catalog to the program, from the glossy ads to the performance itself, was a pitiable indoctrination attempt. And I feel so sorry for all the young dancers swept up in this thing. Would that this country offered better opportunities for such talent.
Epilogue: in the parking lot, brain-fogged by toxic fragrance chemicals, I somehow could not find the exit. Fortunately, a merciful celestial being disguised as a parking lot attendant showed me the way out. I could not leave fast enough.
☽☆☾
…Not to mention frankly pro-Hawaiian Kingdom restoration; opposed to the continued militarization of the Pacific; opposed to GMO crops on the island and the diversion of water from family farms to gated commuities: pro-pagan and witchy; all with a certain amount of side-eye for various aspects of “transplant” culture…
Here in this United States, literary life looks a little weird for those of us writing of a braver and gayer new world than Huxley would have ever imagined.
Just check out this depressing article about the rising muck of ignorance and hate in America, engineered with deliberate cruelty by the far right fringe:
Limbong, Andrew. New report finds a coordinated rise in attempted book bans. NPR. 9/19/22.
Here’s the report mentioned in the above article: Banned in the USA: The Growing Movement to Censor Books in Schools, PEN America, 9/19/2022. The graphic below is from the report, as posted on the PEN website.
Looking at the above image and summary, my lovely, whimsical fantasy series of a band of aging, arty misfits living in a rural intentional community on the island of Hawai’i, who encounter Elves and supernatural foes and learn magic while falling in various kinds of love, checks 6 out of the 7 categories. If I’d set out to write specifically to the criteria for books banned from schools in 2022, I couldn’t have done a better job. Really! Someone give me a medal or something!
However, these books are written for adults, not youngsters. The human protagonists are in my age group (“older”) and while the Elves may have the gloss and glamour of perpetual youth, they are far older than the human “Hermits” who are their magical apprentices. And there is very little explicit sex, though there are teasing references and frank admissions to a very wide array of gender and sexual (and asexual) interests. Even so, I suspect there will be some people who hate The Guild of Ornamental Hermits series and all that it stands for, just as much as there will be some (many more, I hope) who love the series with all their hearts.
Really, my characters are made to be loved, in all their quirks and queerness. There is joy, yearning, heartbreak, awe as well as greed, deception, and otherworldly badness–such as the Wethrini warriors setting upon the hapless goat seller, Toledo Jackson. And I can’t wait for readers to start “shipping” my characters in ways I’ve never considered!
We all know what’s up with the poor sodden dopes who comprise the far right fringes of the USA: “they hate us for our freedoms!” I, for one, will write for joy and juice until my last breath. And honestly, the book banners really are doomed to failure. Nothing they want to repress will ever go back in the box–or the closet–again. Our magic and love are stronger than their hate.
The Dire Deeds and The Witching Work will be followed by The Queerest Quest (Book 3, completed and with the publisher) and The Perilous Past (Book 4, in progress).
☽☆☾
And so here we are, with another “biohazard,” another autobiographical post–a dangerous and perhaps ridiculous preoccupation for someone in their late sixties. What prompts it? Celebrating a grey day, maybe, and also, a mixture of feelings both sad and celebratory, triggered by the process of cleaning up duplicates and old files on my trusty computer. A kind of archeology for someone still alive…
Also, prompted by two conversations with friends, one a zoom conversation yesterday morning with my friend in France and the other today, with a new friend who lives just a few blocks away. Oh, and an email this morning from someone who pulled song lyrics I’d co-written in 2004 with Puanani Rogers, from a box in the Richard Kekuni Blaisdell Hawaiian National Archive.
My friend Mickey exclaimed at one point, “You’re so accomplished!” (She is immensely accomplished herself.) Well, that made me feel good, and yet there’s a kind of bitterness with hearing that as some people that I used to be closest with never really acknowledged my abilities and value, and my efforts to “pull my weight” somehow, someway, in spite of my being confined (literally) by almost 35 years of environmental illnesses and chronic fatigue; my constant pursuit of education to better myself and my ability to make meaningful, creative, and helpful contributions to this weird world of ours, whether through volunteerism, activism, writing, client work, teaching, and a variety of other things. Where I have a passion, I contribute as much as I can.
So maybe this post is not just an archeology but an exorcism of those who are corrosive and envious: y’all can go fuck off, and you know who you are! Cause I can’t stop, won’t stop, and fucking love NOT STOPPING with growing, even if it is in a little fragrance-free hothouse of a life. You think I’m hard work? That’s because you’ve never acknowledged the work that I did, the work I still do.
I’ve had a lot of passions in my life, a few major epiphanies, and some really out there mystical experiences. Some of what I picture in this blog post will reflect some of those while this particular blog reflects my occult and mystical interests. I am not the first person to have a wide array of interests and I won’t be the last. Some people, however, just can’t handle this.
Let’s be slightly chronological (though ignoring the passions of my teen years). Start with adulthood.
San Francisco, late 70s-early 80s. Made clothes and purses. Put on fashion shows. Still in good health. Below left, flyer for my first fashion show, at the Mabuhay. Below right, photo shoot with Jaen Anderson for Slick Magazine. Model Shellagh is behind me.
San Francisco, mid-80s. The result of my first epiphany. Co-founded a non-profit to promote women’s involvement in outer space exploration. We put on educational programs and I did some writing. Meanwhile I also worked at a public opinion research and consulting firm and got married in 1985. Still in good health. Below left, flyer for The Hypatia Cluster. Below right, speaking at The Aerospace Corporation in El Segundo, CA.
The Vague, San Francisco, mid-1980s, before childrearing. Still in good health. Our last gig was the Polk Street Merchants cable car celebration. We “opened” for Tony Bennett (“I Left My Heart in San Francisco”). Below left, photo by Billy Douglas. My (now ex) husband is second from left. Below right, New Years Eve, 1983, Club Foot. (Photo probably also by Billy Douglas.)
Started a furniture finishing business with husband, in San Francisco, mid to late 1980s. I learned faux finishes, gilding, and glazing at the Day Studio Workshop. And here’s where I became exposed to paints and solvents which would eventually make me ill. Some of my sample boards are still shown on the company’s website, but without crediting me for the artwork.
My children were born in 1989 and 1996. I began to show signs of environmental illness during my first pregnancy. Since I couldn’t work in the shop anymore, I worked at home doing the bookeeping while caring for the kids.
San Francisco, early to late 1990s, President and later a board member of the Environmental Health Network of CA. Very sick with multiple chemical sensitivity/environmental illness while also raising children, volunteering at their nursery schools, etc. With the help of the disability students office, I also was able to complete the University of San Francisco’s Development Director certificate program in 1997. I wore masks in public long before the pandemic. Below left, my decorated respirator. Below right, detail from an EHN hat.
It was one of those epiphanies. It was mystic. It was unsettling. It changed my life. What else can I say? My oldest was in Waldorf School, for which I am apparently never to be forgiven.
The year 2000. My life was upended by this trip to Maui, all expenses paid (below left). I was scared to go because I was so sick. But I went. Yes, the hotel and beach were lovely, but I was beset by a feeling of homecoming (I know, it seemed ridiculous to me then also) and also sensing spirits of the land. And I felt physically great! It changed my life. Of course I became obsessed when I got back to the San Francisco Bay Area, learning all I could about culture, history, sovereignty…. I even made Waldorf style tabletop puppets and gave shows at the nursery schools.
Above left, a protest song co-written with the awesome activist kupuna, Puanani Rogers from Kaua’i, back in 2004. Above right, one of ten pages of Hawaiian language newspapers that I transcribed for the Ike Ku’oko’a Initiative around 2012 or so. I was one of about 6,500 volunteers. I would gladly do this transcription work again–it was so interesting!!!
The letters after my name spell “mid-life crisis.” I was desperate to find a way to earn a living. I went back to school, earning two degrees in human sexuality (DHS and Ed.D.) and went through hypnosis certification trainings. I did stuff.
My background and contributions to sexology and hypnotism (such as they are) may be found on my professional websites.
There’s lots more, but I think I’ll end with my books.
This has been an interesting exercise in self-soothing. And no, that’s not “all there is,” as I was once asked, long ago. ‘Nuff said.
☽☆☾
I am so happy to announce the mid-March arrival of my second book in The Guild of Ornamental Hermits queer urban fantasy and paranormal romance series! As of March 15th, it has arrived, first as a Kindle eBook and soon will appear as a paperback.
Like the first book, The Witching Work takes place on Hawaiʻi Island during a “not too distant future” when the Hawaiian Kingdom is finally unoccupied and able to reform its government. This is a transition time for everyone in the islands, but for the Hermits of Hermitville Farm & Arts Collective, their entire lives have been turned inside out by the sudden death of Hermitvilleʻs founder and the arrival of Elves of The Realm. In The Witching Work, the human Hermits are forced to become adepts in Elven magic in record time, because the human and preternatural foes continue to threaten all Hawaiʻi and humanity as a whole. Can our plucky ensemble of mostly queer, aging misfits and their dishy Elven mentors save the day? Or will the eldritch powers from beyond really land with a pink sploosh in the middle of Hawaiʻiʻs lush Puna district?
This is what some readers had so say about the first book, The Dire Deeds.
I am pleased to announce this publication of The Witching Work, as well as the forthcoming third book in the series, The Queerest Quest, hopefully later this year!
☽☆☾
I just have to show off the lovely spell bottle necklace I had made as an offering for Loki’s altar. It was created by a local witchy craftsperson, JD Terrapin, after an enjoyable consultation over tea, with a selection of colors for the necklace and materials for the bottle (minerals, a spice, and Loki’s name in runes).
I’ve commissioned one for Bast too, as an offering of gratitude for my cat’s recovery from surgery.
☽☆☾
Years ago my Aunt Mary gave me a golden necklace that was a museum replica of a statue of Bastet (or Bast), the Egyptian cat goddess. I’ve hardly worn it, until now. And I’ve had a little figurine of this goddess for quite a long time, but no altar space (until recently).
But when my dearest and oldest cat, Popoki, had to have surgery a couple of weeks ago, I put the necklace on and asked Bast for protection and healing for my cat. After all, even my vet agreed that this cat was an “emanation.” (It’s Oregon. It happens.) So, I made offerings and altar space.
Today Popoki gets her stitches removed and in celebration of her recovery, I am posting pictures of Bast, the joyous and generous, in her honor and as a gesture of thanks.
Lady Of The Lake 