Sunday, March 6, 2016

Review: The Witch

I saw Robert Eggers' The Witch for the second time last night. I left the theatre unable to stop smiling, which possibly creeped out the cashier at the IGA when I stopped to buy potatoes.

The following reviews contains SPOILERS. So very, very many spoilers. It's spoilertastic.


Sunday, February 28, 2016

definition of being alive

I saw The Witch yesterday and I have a lot of feelings about it, but right now I feel like a horrendous shit beast because of this cold, so I just want to make a brief post about something that just happened.

A few weeks ago, my sister and I helped another pair of sisters. The elder, who travels all over the word as part of her job, had for years been haunted by something. Without going into too many details, I can say that what we did was name it, draw it up, and get it to fuck off.

(I owe a lot to Lon Milo DuQuette for the inspiration for that ritual.)

Anyway, the sisters just dropped by. The elder gave my sister and I a gift. Years ago, she picked up two stones in Laos. She's carried them around as talismans, and tonight she gave us one of them. It was just such a sweet gesture - I nearly cried, and not just because I'm all hopped up on cold medication.

It's good to help people, in whatever way you can.

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Cascade

I had another seizure.

This one I feel is my own damn fault - I'd been very lax in taking my medication, because it had been over three years since I'd last seized. I was at work and felt nauseous, so I went to the bathroom and knelt in one of the stalls. Obviously I don't remember what happened next since I came to as I was being loaded into the ambulance, but it turns out one of my coworkers found me. My sister currently works in the same office as I do, so she was on hand to accompany me to the hospital.

I took the next day off work and got a very nice card from my coworkers, as well as some trashy magazines and chocolate.

Seizures blow. Not only because you chew up your tongue, but because they really ram home the fragility of your body. "What if I have one on the stairs? Near traffic?"  The possibilities for serious damage are too many to count.

So in reaction you dye your hair a fabulous mermaid colour and then cut off most of it, apparently.

One of the stylists watching my cousin cut it referred to it as a ‘micro bob’ and said, “it was big in the 90s.”
He looked 12. “I know,” I replied, “I was there.”


The Dark Entries show went off decently well.  The attendance was mostly friends, but that didn't really matter to me very much. The next time we do it, however, I think we should do only two films max - three was really pushing our time limit, and there were a ton of notes I didn't even get to. David and my sister were both very articulate and funny, and I would like to do a live show again. Maybe even strangers will come next time!

The Comedy of Terrors monthly show will be ending this Thursday. We had a really good run, but all of us involved are just too busy to give it the attention it deserves. The plan is to resurrect it as a bigger, better show that only happens a few times a year as opposed to monthly. I would prefer a different venue, too. But for now we just need to give it one last hurrah... and then we can all relax. Monthly shows take a lot out of you, and I don't even have to do most of the work on this one.


In spiritual news, I've backed off from the Old Man. It seems like once you get into the Norse pantheon you have to deal with Heathenry whether you want to or not, and that whole scene just sort of rubs me the wrong way. There's also the fact that I am stunningly uninterested in the rest of the pantheon and actively avoid one particular member, neither of which seems conductive to a close working relationship.

There are a few other things going on, however, so I'm certainly not bored.


Fran continues to be adorable.


Monday, January 11, 2016

"Ain’t that just like me."

Yesterday I made a friend watch the videos for both Blackstar and Lazarus by David Bowie. "It's almost like he's planning the return to his home planet," I joked.

Last night not long after midnight, my sister texted me to tell me that David Bowie - the man who fell to earth - was dead.

I was stunned. I had strange dreams all night, and when I woke up this morning and checked the internet to really confirm the news, I found myself much sadder than I thought I'd be. I'm still sad, if I'm honest. I've cried a little, which seems sort of stupid as I never met the man, but there it is.

I was born in 1981, and so my first introduction to Bowie was Labyrinth. As I got older my mother informed me that the Goblin King was the one singing many of the songs I loved on the mixed tapes she would make. I remember playing Modern Love on my baby-pink tape player - running on batteries - in the back of my mom's car. She, my sister, and I all sang along. As I grew older I would discover Station to Station, Ziggy Stardust, Diamond Dogs... all of it. My sister and I watched The Man Who Fell to Earth, and for a while Voodoo even had the same hairstyle as he did in that film. He was a fascinating character who never truly faded from public consciousness, and the more you learned about him the more interesting he became.

David Bowie was more than just a rockstar. I think anyone who ever enjoyed his work felt that.


We were lucky to have him.

Sunday, January 10, 2016

Majesty

It's a brand new year, and the blogosphere is full of articles on how to make this one the year of a new you.

I think Matt Bellassai has the right idea about that, really.

Hey, I've tried it. You can look at this very blog and see that. I'll be honest with you - every year it's usually the same shit: exercise more, meditate more, write more. 

This is not to say that I have not improved in those areas or that it's bad to have goals. I actually think it's great to have goals, because it gives us something concrete to slog towards when the going is tough. But once you reach a goal, there's another and another and another. It's not like you finally run that 5K and then just quit altogether.

Will I be the same person this year as I was last? Yeah, pretty much. I'll probably still drink too much wine, judge the outfits of every last one of my co-workers, play music too loudly and hate meditating. But there will be new shit, too.

The monthly show I help produce with Voodoo Pixie and Aleister Crane, The Comedy of Terrors, will be coming to an end. We had a good run, but we all have other demands on our time. I have a job scheduled to run through to the fall that is shaping up to be pretty demanding, Voodoo and I are trying our hands at a new project - a series of roundtable discussions on horror and an accompanying podcast, both called Dark Entries. (Why yes, I did pick the name.) I'm cancelling my membership at the YMCA, but my running is picking up again and I plan to take pole dancing.

Slowly, I am developing some sort of relationship with the Old Man. I'm still not sure what it's going to become. At the same time, I have discovered Sabbatic Witchcraft and find myself eager to read more about it. (How has this been hiding from me for so long? And now I seem to trip over it all over the tumblr and on blogs.)

Life progresses, although rarely in an instantly dramatic fashion. We shouldn't expect massive changes just because we said "happy new year" and we should not hold ourselves to such an insane standard. On the other hand, we also cannot use the fact that most often life is a case of same-shit-different-day as an excuse for our own inertia.

So do the shit that you want to do. Your habits now will help shape who you are ten years from now, so maybe make sure at least some of that shit is healthy. I highly doubt much of what is over the horizon will be easy, but I'm also quite confident that we're all a bunch of tough motherfuckers and we can handle whatever may come.

New year. Same you. (ie: still badass.)

Sunday, December 20, 2015

Facelift.

So, I've been maintaining an online presence since... the 90s? The early 2000s? Back then I had a livejournal, because of course I did. Eventually I moved on over to blogger, and I've had this sporadically updated slice of the blogosphere since 2011.

We're closing in on 2016, and I decided to give this place a bit of a facelift. Tidy up some information, and perhaps most importantly... change the name.

'Walk Softly Witch' was taken from a pulp novel - something about it tickled me, and I loved the cover. I actually started doing burlesque when I was heavier than I am today - this was before my breast reduction surgery, and I remember feeling that to do burlesque you had to go full pin-up. There was a period where I would pin curl my hair every other night  and I actually wore colour sometimes. It didn't last, obviously, because goth is like a stylistic version of herpes.

But that's not really who I am anymore. People evolve, or at least get better about paring back the shit that isn't truly necessary to their enjoyment of life.

So, looking back on over a decade's worth of both blogging and magic, what's the constant?

Music.

And here we are.