The Wild Hunt (https://wildhunt.org/category/living)
For most holidays we write a whole new ritual and there’s no guarantee that any particular element will recur from year to year. I’ve been to Ostaras without eggs and Samhains without the names of the dead. But I’ve never been to a Beltane without the Maypole. That one remains.
“I should pour a little of this back onto the roots,” they say as we dip spoons in the maple syrup and argue about whether to reduce it more. “Pay it back.” “Why wouldn’t you give it something from your world?” I ask. “It gave you something of itself.” “You want me to give it blood?”
Death is a disintegration of the old in favor of the true. Who are we, what are we, where are we, why are we, and how are we in this lifetime? We can ask the same of our ancestors and ancients, just as our children and descendants will ask the same of us.
The rise, rapid development, and adoption of AI-generated art poses an existential question which goes beyond base issues of consumption, mass media, and copyright law. AI art challenges what it means to be human, what we can aspire to be, and the nature of existence beyond the realm of material reality.
Just as sane people don’t need to embrace the insanity of the Trumpies, Heathens of positive intent don’t need to take on any of the awfulness of the neo-völkisch haters and their ilk. We can make empathy a central point of what we believe and what we practice.
After experiencing the challenges of the five months following Helene, I eagerly moved through the kaleidoscopic seasons, observing the early signs of change. I danced in the garden when I found purple dead nettle blooming, and I crowed with delight when the daffodils returned from the underworld.
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