The Wild Hunt (https://wildhunt.org/tag/hermes)
Who do I find the gods that fill my life now so restful?They are terrifying. The kindest of them is streaked with blood and prone to fits of violence. Their characters are complicated and often petty, their stories filled with the sorts of vengeance that humans can only feint at. Which is why I trust them. At least they’re honest about it.
At the end of it, I know that the projects I do take on – be they jars of herbs or small rituals, necklaces made of certain stones or clothes woven just so – are few and far between. If I light a candle and say a few words, they are more likely to be a prayer than an incantation. Surely that’s not Witchcraft.
I use models for what is “old enough” to consider seriously in my practice based on instinct and a vague understanding of the world “historiography,” picking up and discarding things from 1000, 1300, or 1800 as either “older than anything else I’ve found” or “too new” – all while the modern Witchcraft movement can be meaningfully traced to the 1940s.
My room became a Wunderkammer of sorts, filled with strange and magical items right alongside cheap pieces of mass-produced plastic that made me laugh and reminded me of my friends. The ways in which I saw the gods grew into a visual language, a series of physical metaphors grounded in my everyday experience and sprawling across my living space. Like all languages, it began to create its own meaning.
I have never considered myself either a woman or a man. From the first days of my exploration, I was very clear that my identity was something else, a trickster-slick and shifting thing that slipped past both words and into uncharted lands. It was, by definition, dangerous.