Pop Culture Curse: "Done." curse, AKA "Banishing With Interest"

I was listening to “Done.” by The Band Perry and I realized the song works well as a curse for a person I’ve been having problems with. Because of the nature of the song it will work best for an abusive significant other, but can also work for a stalker, abusive family member, or anyone else who has power over you of some kind and abuses you with it.

The lines we’re taking this spell from are:

You will need:

What you’re going to do:

What this blog is not:

What this blog is:

HERMES AS THE GOD OF WIFI IS POSSIBLY THE COOLEST THING I’VE EVER EVEN HEARD OF.

I think it's pretty cool too. I didn't come up with it, though. That was a Skype friend (Fox, I think?).

If you look at a pocketwatch and don't think of witchcraft, I don't understand you.

Single best purchase I made today, a pocketwatch. Big, old-fashioned, with Roman numerals on the case so you can read it even when it’s closed. Opens at the push of a button, easy to set. I’m wearing it around my neck under my shirt. You know what I’m going to do with it?

WITCHCRAFT.

Think of the witchcraft! Tie up a bundle of happy feelings and save them for later! Bind something you don’t like and release it where it can’t hurt anyone! Time magic of all kinds! You cannot tell me a pocketwatch isn’t witchcraft, I won’t believe you.

Three women and a cauldron.

I said I’d explain this later, and I never did. So here’s the explanation.

Three women and a cauldron, as in Maiden, Mother and Crone. In stories they’re the wise women or the witches, but the idea that stuck with me is the one Neil Gaiman and Kate Griffin have both used in their writing. This is the idea of a trio of women who know basically everything, and they’ll tell you—if you ask the right questions.

You meet the three women with a cauldron, you get three questions. If you waste them asking what’s going on, too bad, sucks to be you. Play the lawyer’s game: Ask specific questions that don’t leave room for misinterpretation, because like a djinn, they are experts at giving you what you asked for and not what you wanted.

I have questions. I want answers. And in the MoMA and again in the Museum of Art and Design, I saw works that invoked the image of three women and a cauldron. Three women drinking wine, with the pitcher or a vase in the middle, or three women dancing around an urn. I think, without overmuch danger, I could get to the three women and a cauldron, and ask them my questions.

I’m not sure I want the answers that simply, though. There’s a reason my questions for readings aren’t about those things—there is no instant answer that will satisfy me. This is a journey, a process, a mystery.

But, should I change my mind—I think I could ask them.

You might be an urban witch if...

…looking at a power plant takes your breath away.

…rush hour is a beautiful expression of community to you and not a horror.

…you never actually have to stop during rush hour.

Urban tools: Sunglasses.

Okay so sunglasses are like my favorite things ever. They can be used for basically three things, in my experience: Glamour, invisibility, and protection.

Glamour: You’re wearing things that are designed to make people look cooler. Put the energy into them, trace the frames and tap the lenses to put energy into them. A lot of this is about stance, too. So much of urban glamour is about how you walk and how you hold yourself. Standing up straight is itself a good protective ward; it gives the impression that you’re aware of your surroundings and you won’t go down without a fight and a lot of people will go for an easier target just from that. But I digress.

Invisibility: A different kind of glamour, and one that relies heavily on your stance. Don’t slouch, don’t hurry but don’t slow down. Put on the sunglasses and take advantage of their power to conceal your eyes. Expand on that. No one knows if you’re looking at them, no one knows who you are. Build on that energy. Walk like you belong, don’t say a word to anyone, and watch how people just ignore you. It’s not technically invisibility; it’s a sense of nothing-to-see-here.

Protection: Sunglasses protect your eyes from the sun, so with the same kind of evocation you use to make yourself invisible or attractive, you can surround yourself with a ward using your sunglasses.

Quick definition: Evocation.

I use this term a lot in my magic, and I don’t think I’ve ever defined it. I got it from a D&D book and adapted it to my craft.

An evocation is a quick-and-dirty spell using urban symbols to power it. Drawing a four-leaf clover for luck, chanting “I’m rubber you’re glue” to punish someone for something they’ve done, writing an affirmation on your arm. All evocations. Most of my spells fall under this category, although I only use the term for the quick spells, to distinguish them from spells I spend a lot of time and planning on (which I rarely do because I suck at sticking to plans).

So, you evoke the symbolism of an object or chant = evocation.

Urban witchery tools: Cocoa

Hey, it’s been a while since I actually did a post about actual urban witchery. I’m overdue and I’m up, so here we go: Cocoa powder.

Chocolate is an aphrodisiac; I’m mentioning that now so that I can ignore it for the rest of this post. Sure you COULD use cocoa in a love charm/spell/potion, but think of all the OTHER things you could do with that little packet.

Cocoa is a comfort food—use it in antianxiety spells. It’s drunk in the dead of winter to warm up—use it to warm yourself up magically. It’s a homey drink—use it to bless your home or use it as an offering for house spirits. (Personally, I have a house spirit that demands the leftover coffee every time I drink it. Otherwise the coffee is missing the next day.)

Urban witchery is a matter of perspective. It’s in large part about intent. Take the things you already do, infuse them with intent and combine them for maximum effect, and you’re doing magic the result of which is greater than the sum of the ingredients. Thus, the common associations of cocoa are its magical properties.

Rebloggable by request.

I'm giving this advice a lot tonight, so I'll make it public.

If you’re interested in urban witchery, and your answer to the question “Does your City feel like home?” is anything other than “Yes,” you’re starting at a disadvantage. You can do urban witchery at that disadvantage. Why not? But more importantly, why?

So try this. If you have a ready means of transportation, take a trip through your City. Car, bus, bike, walking—whatever. Don’t have a destination in mind; just go through the different neighborhoods and look around and notice the differences. Go to the malls, the Starbucks, the mom ‘n’ pop shops. Wander until you find a place that feels like HOME.

That’s how I got started. I found a place in my City that overwhelmed me with a sense of HOME and BELONGING and MINE-YOURS. I don’t call my City a god, but it is very much a being greater than human. It’s the City.

My practice and my awareness of it has changed a lot since this post, but it's still worth putting on here.

Shadow, American Gods.  (via being—human)

Yeah, this is pretty much how urban witchery works.

(via witchlingfumbles)