vipera saxum

you can only avoid it for so long 

it starts to creep in and suffocate you 

or worse 

you forget 

and that power is lost 

it's a fine line

the smallest of moments 

when you forget the reason why you're avoiding the work 

and the fear is just habit 

so we went to the cursed snake island 

it was awful and perfect 

the trail didn't care about you 

and the wind hated you 

purposeful

meaningful 

there was a moment of peace 

and i gave that piece song 

brass and wire 

a frequency of our magick in the chaotic stillness 

we kept busy and avoided the clingers 

i’m thankful me and curses don't get along 

i could see someone getting lost here 

the bard was uneasy but didn't show it 

her quill has a backbone 

thank the gods 

we got our work done 

it was as it should be 

we asked the captain for our muse 

our question was answered 

we have work to do 

a portal to open 

side note - things are changing quickly, depression is becoming an embarrassment and it seems like i'm being watched, judged, and possibly tested. i got mad apples.

chun cel contritionem

today we walked amongst giants

gods and goddess alike

soft white lines through veins

hard corners of bronze and exotics

free to residents

and utterly impossible

we pulled cards

quiet conversations

divinity

esoteric glances

whispers of soul

scrying within the confines of art

winks and soft touches

the gentleman

the serpent

and the goddess of war

sweet lullabies

and the children who don't know to scream

take away their pain

take away their brush

take away their gods

the trash blowing in the wind

has it

the chaotic ballet of blustery

be trash and bend with it, sweetheart

stratago captimus

the nights became crowded

whispers from the stacks of archives

voices echoing from the energy

trapped in those pages

shapes began harmonizing

i wandered through them all

inebriated hands fumbling

remembering what she told us

i knew it then but not now

we have to keep our secrets

the bard wrote me a letter

kind and true

wax sealed on parchment paper

dear wizard - i’ll be needing symbols

she will have it her symbols

sigils

alchemical twisting of energies

the letter read different that night

it talked of entities

answering the whispers

a sigil of souls

i married the shapes

using the oracle

i created a skeletal structure

with written prayer i manifested intention

layering energies

creating something new

an entity

a being

a symphony of shadows

synesthesia

the sacred art, stratago captimus

cherry serpents

the process looks good on film

squeezes and pressure

a ballet that leans into it all

it fools you

it’s work

it’s gritty

as it should be

as it should have been all along

the speed is alarming

paint dries fast

paper like blades

chaotic bending of edges

movement

calm moments before the storm

rhythm pounding

we are dancing now

paint dripping

puddles being absorbed by the pulp

images appear

this is a ritual

this is painting

this is my religion

cherry serpents!

umbra signatura

i wanted to capture the muse

the brush and its simple worship needed a ritual

something with weight

these pieces need to be warm to the touch

alive

the materials soft and transformative

paper wrinkling like the hermit’s stoic face

black as the knight that swings his sword

wildly

the water filled with crystals and even more intention

a ceremony of shape and smudge

smoke filled with memories lingers

ash adding texture

the floor should pound with lust

a ritual

the pressings of umbra signatura

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