Pagan Culture Is Not Dead

I had an exchange with a friend who suggested that my “writings have been moving further and further away from their original witchy themes.” According to said friend, “[my] Pagan Culture died the day [I] moved from Blogger to WordPress.”

He is, of course, mistaken. My views have evolved (and thank goodness for that), my writing has been growing, and my blog has been relocated… but Pagan Culture is not dead. His notion is silly and rather sad. I say this because he has based his comment on the fact that I rarely ramble about what he considers “the important current events about the Pagan and Witchcraft community.”

My blog is about… well, me. I have always been a solitary witchy woman. Even when I took part in events put together by local and virtual groups, my practices were my own. My blog posts have always been about my life and my writing, about how I perceive the world—witchy and otherwise. My blog changes and grows with me. The same is true of my fiction and poetry.

In 2009, when I started blogging, my main concern was to show people that Witches were just… people: individuals who approached the world and its creatures in their own ways. I’m almost certain that in seven years, most people who know me also know that I’m a witchy woman. They might not be sure of what that means, not exactly… But following my blog has probably showed them that labels don’t matter all that much. I am people. My words speak to others. That is good.

And that, my Wicked Luvs, tells me that I’ve accomplished my initial blogging goal: anyone who takes the time to really, really look… has seen that Witches (or at least, witchy me) are neither better nor worse than they are. We are just different people—like the rest of the world, we love, we cry, we laugh, we get sick, we grow, we believe in magic, we are so freaking sexy… and some of us are extremely modest. Really, I’m very serious about this part, my modesty knows no bounds.

My Pagan Culture is alive and witching. It’s also free of stagnation. Since stagnation is the scum of the universe, freedom from its tentacles is a blessing. Don’t you think?

Read you later, my Luvs. Write you always…

P.S. On other non-dying news… If you haven’t joined Witches in Fiction 2016: Spelling Healing into a Rotting World, just follow the link. It would be very nice to have you… and coffee… or tea.

Yes, my teeth are quite sharp… and rather numerous.
(if you see the adverb police, tell them I was having one of those days *cough, cough*)
magaly-guerrero-2016

Magic Love Crow Reclaims Her All (and shares some of it with us)

I met her years ago… while her brushes rejoiced in birthing baby crows. I fell in love with the innocence of her art, the bright sweetness of her colors, the gentleness of her heart… Since then, Magic Love Crow has grown and grown… and I love what art and artist continue to become.

Magic Love Crow

A month or so ago, Stacy, mistress of Magic Love Crow, said something about spending a lot of time painting “backgrounds” and enjoying the activity to no end. Then she shared this piece:

Rouge, by Magic Love Crow“Rouge”

The explosion of colors and textures inspired me to take a trip down memory lane. I clicked back and forth, between pieces created in 2011 and some of Stacy’s most recent work. I was amazed (and rather pleased) by how her art has evolved. In the beginning, Stacy’s paintings were full of the cutest wee creatures. It was impossible to look at her paintings without cooing.

Baby Crow and Baby Owl, by Magic Love Crow“Baby Crow and Baby Owl”

Later, colors became brighter… talons got sharper… Stacy’s baby crows began to fly…

The Landing At Sunset, by Magic Love Crow“The Landing at Sunset”

A couple of years ago, our talented Stacy’s crows dropped their fuzzy feathers and morphed into strong-winged symbols for so much more: healing, love for self, discovery, romantic love, and hope were only a few of the motifs that began to hatch.

Love Me Like You Do, by Magic Love Crow“Love Me Like You Do”

Then came the deliciously mythical (and a personal favorite) touch of Stacy’s crow women and birds. These paintings are full of strength and magic, of life and what comes next, of wonder…

You Are Beautiful, by Magic Love Crow“You Are Beautiful”

I found so much delight in exploring the evolution of Magic Love Crow, that I wanted to share the experience with you. I had planned to write this post at the end of this month or after April. But when Stacy emailed me to ask if it was all right to name a very special painting after a line in one of my poems (to which I said “Yes!”, of course), I felt the need to share the yum now.

Reclaiming My All, by Magic Love Crow“Reclaiming My All”

And speaking of sharing…

Stacy is offering “Reclaiming My All”, the special painting in question, as a giveaway. This piece, with its fiercely crimson bits and rough edges… has a story of its own. Please visit Stacy’s blog, and read “Reclaiming My All”, so that you, too, can feel the power of its origins.

To Enter the “Reclaiming My All” Giveaway….

All you have to do is leave me a comment saying, “I want ‘Reclaiming My All’”. That’s it, my Wicked Luvs. There is no other requirement for entering the giveaway. But… I would LOVE to know why this particular painting, or Magic Love Crow’s work in general, appeals to you.

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Giveaway Rules, details and stuff…

* I (or Stacy) need to be able to contact the winner. If you don’t have a website or social media profile, through which we can interact, then please add your email to your comment. If your name comes up, and I (or Stacy) have no way to contact you, we will choose another name.

* To my Canadian Luvs, before you can claim your prize, I must test your mathematical brilliance by asking you a very obscure question, such as… what’s 13 + .5? Yeah, as obscure as the law

* This giveaway ends on March 17th, 2015, at 11:59 pm, EDT. The name of the winner will be added to the end of this post on March 18th, and contacted on the same day.

* This giveaway is open worldwide, excluding any place where prohibited by law.

Edited on 3/18/16 (to announce the winner) And the winner of the giveaway is

Laura Morrigan, from Roses and Vellum

Congrats, Laura! Please send me your mailing information (magalyguerrero @ live . com).
♥ 😉 ♥

My Eyeballs Are Secured in Their Femaleness

My eyes are not the best listeners. I told them that we weren’t getting old—just deliciously experienced—but they still insisted on needing reading glasses. Since I’m not one to fight her own eyeballs, I went ahead and let them have the glasses… Besides, we can totally pull off the sexy-librarian-with-wild-hair look (our modesty is deliciously nonexistent *cough, cough*).

So… after an appointment with my ophthalmologist, I went to see the optician to get fitted for frames. The moment I saw the first frames, I knew I wanted them. I tried them on. They felt perfect. It was love at first magnification.

The optician began to chuckle and whisper with one of her colleagues. To me, she said, “Oh no, sweetie, those are made for men.”

“I know.” I had read the sign just above the frames’ display. “I still want them.”

“They are very masculine. They won’t look right. Try this.” She offered me a golden monstrosity with minuscule lenses.

“No, thanks very much, just fit me for the black frames,” I said, without touching the frames she thought were right for me.

While she wrote out my specific measurements, she started talking to her colleague, in Spanish, about my choice.

I stayed quiet, pretending I didn’t understand. I had been in the hospital almost all day, and didn’t feel like arguing. But when she told the other woman something about how it wasn’t going to be her fault that I was going to “walk around looking like a she-man idiot,” I lost it.

“Listen to me,” I said to her, in Spanish, “My face is mine and I wear what I please. If your ovaries and brain are so diminished that they keep you from doing your job in a professional manner, then move aside so that someone without ridiculous gender issues can take my order. While you are at it, tell your supervisor that I would like to speak to him or her.”

I must’ve been shouting because everyone in the (rather large) waiting room was very quiet. And I turned around to find the optician’s supervisor standing behind me. If I hadn’t been so mad, I would’ve probably laughed at the ludicrousness of the entire situation. But worry not, my Wicked Luvs, I got to laugh later… all by myself… while walking to the bus station… thinking, Hot damn! I should’ve told her that my eyeballs are secured in their femaleness.

Magaly Guerrero - Reading Glasses