unbelievably slutty statue of dionysus. btw
Today's Document

titsay

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Misplaced Lens Cap
Peter Solarz
d e v o n
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

Origami Around
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

shark vs the universe
trying on a metaphor
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Jules of Nature

Kaledo Art

No title available
noise dept.
Sade Olutola
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will byers stan first human second

seen from Germany

seen from United States

seen from Nepal
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seen from Mexico

seen from Belarus

seen from United States
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seen from United States
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seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia
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@winedarkenedwitch
unbelievably slutty statue of dionysus. btw
The hard truth about occultism and witchcraft is that you genuinely do have to be willing to lose your mind. That’s not me romantisizing mental struggle or psychosis.
The thing no one talks about, at least not honestly, is the threshold one passes in initiation, where the mystical, psychological, symbolic and literal merge. When I say you have to be willing to lose your mind, I mean you have to be willing to accept the possibility that you may in fact be crazy. Your worst possible fear, none of this is real and it’s all happening in your head. What will you do if you realize you’re simply crazy? The wise man will turn away, but the initiate, the alchemist, will be unphased.
All people who dabble with spirituality and occultism will eventually meet this threshold. When things actually start working, when your spells yield results, when the impossible occurs and you truly have no other explanation. When the Gods finally respond. Be willing to lose your mind, be willing to experience things you cannot explain. And be willing to talk to yourself with the honesty that you simply cannot know. That’s what makes your faith and pursuits worthy.
The most talented and most powerful witches and magis are those who do not flinch when the impossible occurs. They no longer question themselves about the absurdity, they no longer wonder if any of this is real because they know it doesn’t matter. And that’s why they’re so powerful, they have complete faith that their work is very real. And when someone challenges that, they don’t crumble, they rise. Because the challenge in that idea is worthy of pursuit itself. Maybe we are crazy, maybe this is just in our mind. The significance however, that is real and that stays, regardless.
Yap yap yap
We talk a lot in this community about the concept of “awakening” to your psychic abilities. Sensing energy, having divine intuition, telling fortunes and affecting the world through intention. But we hardly ever expose that before those gifts explode, there is always a period of what feels like insanity. The mind interrogating itself. Sensitivity to the mystical. It feels like being given access to the background code of your simulated reality, and realizing that the same code is written into your flesh, mind and soul.
Tldr. Witchcraft is very aesthetically pleasing, very pretty. We often don’t show the very ugly side of it, the white knuckles, the tears and chaos. Inviting these forces into your life is not trivial, not at all. They will force you to change and they will force you to lose your mind, even if only to teach you how to find it.
Every few months a friend of mine who is also a witch will come to me and express that she thinks she’s losing her mind again. And I smile because I know that she must be growing so much, getting so much more powerful. And a couple days ago, when I went to her and expressed that I was losing my mind again, she laughed too.
“Welcome to the next phase of your journey with Lord Lucifer!”
and her saying that immediately made everything click. I’m still being tested and cultivated. This bought of insanity is surely far from the last i will experience. Getting this far and surviving means I am not only advancing, I am continuing to grow into the role I was meant to serve for him.
Anyways, if you get to that point in your practice where you feel like you’re at your breaking point, I won’t fault you for stepping back. That’s the logical decision.
But I can also assure you, you are not alone. The mystic floats in the same waters the psychotic drowns. It may feel like you’re drowning and struggling, you may in fact just be learning how to tread water. and if you think you’re beyond this phenomenon, if this has never happened to you.
Oh, just you wait.
Hymn to Pseudanor
Muses, hear me sing of Pseudanor, False-Man Dionysos, soft eyed and soft wristed, He of the Too-Ready Laugh; Bacchic lord of camp and mirth, I raise my uncoached voice to you in praise.
Butch Queen Bromios, Thundering Diva, realness has never been your strength, nor objective; you hold the sissies and the faggots tenderly in outstretched arms.
Your children know you by your casual reads, by your sharp excoriation, by your understanding grace, as we, too, approximate manhood and we fall, as ever, short, for Lord, you and I both know that we're not fooling anyone.
Like Pythia, we breathe the vapors, prophesize for you; we speak in tongues and tongue the cheeks of beauties and of beasts; for you we Rush, we bite and Bolt, your Liquid Gold spills into us, as we open consciousness and bodies to receive, receive, receive.
Enthousiasmos finds us on the dancefloor.
Brick-thrower, Plinthóbolos, we remember you in our holy hour of rage, when liberation calls unassailably and the Pentheus cops of the world lower their boots to our necks; we laugh and spit defiance in your name. You are alive in the airborne shot glass.
Divine Auntie, Hip-Swisher, Cocksucker, No-Shit-Taker, be with us, I pray, as we sing your praises, taste your nectar, throw our heads back cackling and rub our hair in the dirt; your madness liberates us from the madness of the world, defends us on the battlefield of ideas, preserves our sacred flames.
Dionysos Eromenos, Beloved of Many, bless your tender children as we learn to make our way: if ever I have hailed you, ekstatic or kathartic, and offered up delight, longing, heartbreak, or shame; if ever I have braved the haze to walk the streets in cocky pride, shorts too short and shirt too tight, affronting Manly Truth; then bless me and bless us with confidence, with gentleness, with toughness and the boldness to thrive in a world that would brutalize wildflowers to preserve the sanctity of dry grass. Fruitful Dionysos, let me burst into seed.
The Blasting Rod- Thunder Rod or Blackthorn Wand
An excerpt from Raven Grimassi’s “Grimoire of the Thorn-blooded Witch” in regards to the preparation and uses of the traditional blackthorn wand.
- On three moonless nights, preferably under Scorpio - Under the sky, beneath the stars, anoint the rod with Master Oil. “Be now the Master’s bolt, in this blackthorn cane. A protection unto me and my enemies a bane.”
Prick your thumb at the crossroads, and anoint the cane with three drops of blood.
“Here at the crossroads at this hour, I claim by right the Witches power. Forces of night and shadows bold, the witch’s blackthorn cane I hold.”
Various Charms of the Thunder-rod
Against an Enemy “I see my enemy’s plots and force them rend, witch’s lighting strike I do send.”
To Veil Something “Over this draw the black and misty tide. From sight and sound and touch, I hereby hide.”
To Bind Another “I set thorns against the I’ll you bring and seal you in the thicket’s ring.”
🍇sketch
已化身狂女
Embracing the Enigma: Exploring the Mysteries of the Ancient One
* Artwork from Pinterest
“Black also is the mask and guise of the deliverer unto the way of power and wisdom; for in truth, he is the bearer of the hidden light.” – The Devil’s Dozen by Gemma Gary.
He is known by many names: The Dark One, The Ancient One, The Old One, The Witch Father, The Man in Black, The Dark Rider, Lord of The Crossroads, The Devil... He embodies the diverse aspects of masculinity and the darker side of the divine with a commanding presence.
In the depths of folklore and myth, the enigmatic figure of the Ancient One weaves a tale of elusive mystery, embodying forms both human and beast, and echoing through the rustling of leaves and the clacking of bones. While seeking to unveil the identity of this enigmatic entity may prove futile, it is in understanding the symbolism and teachings that lie within that we find true enlightenment.
The Ancient stands as the guardian of the threshold, a master of the liminal space between the physical world and the realm of spirits. As a psychopomp, he guides souls to the afterlife, embodying the essence of transition and transformation.
Gemma Gary aptly captures the essence of the Dark One as "the bearer of the hidden light," emphasizing the necessity of embracing darkness as a path to wisdom and power. Rather than seeking to conquer the darkness, we are encouraged to adapt and adjust to its presence, learning to navigate and understand its mysteries.
In the embrace of darkness, we find the space to develop keen senses and insight, akin to feeling and seeing in the dark. Winter's darkness offers a profound lesson in acceptance and adaptation, paving the way for the eventual return of light and the renewal of spring.
As we delve into the enigma of the Ancient One, we are beckoned to explore the depths of our own primal nature and unearth the untamed aspects of the "source of all." By embracing the teachings of the Ancient One, we embark on a transformative journey, guided toward the wisdom and power that lie within the shadows.
Embrace the enigma, for within it lies the untold wisdom of the ages, guiding us through the threshold of transformation and unveiling our primal essence of the "source of all" within.
Embracing Dark Transformation: The “Death” of The Former Self Through Dark Baptism
• Note To Reader: This ritual is inspired by the tale of the Goddess Inanna’s journey into the underworld, where she was symbolically stripped down and had to undergo a symbolic death to be reborn and ascend once more. If you are unfamiliar with Her descent story, please research it first. This ritual may initiate a transformative or tower phase in your life, requiring you to undergo a shedding of the old self and many layers to be reborn and ascend.
From personal experience, once you engage with The Void and it knows your name & recognizes you, you may believe you can move on from it, but it may never truly release its hold on you!!
In the tapestry of human existence, the intertwined threads of life and death weave a profound narrative of mystery and transformation. While some seek meaning in the increasing vitality of new life, others are drawn to the enigmatic realm of spiritual rebirth and the profound depths of darkness & Void. These divergent paths, however, are not separate but rather complementary facets of a singular truth—a truth that mirrors the essence of baptism and the symbolic journey it represents.
The ancient ritual of baptism, a cornerstone of the Christian tradition but has a pre-Christian history, serves as a poignant symbol of death, rebirth, and the initiation into a new spiritual odyssey. In the realm of personal growth and spiritual evolution, the concept of baptism represents a profound journey of self-discovery and renewal. This symbolic ritual, steeped in mysticism and metaphor, signifies the death of the former self and the emergence of a new, enlightened identity. Let’s delve into the significance of a dark baptism and its transformative power.
The symbolism of the dark baptism lies in the sacred act of surrendering the old self to The Void (think returning to the womb), a symbolic representation of the unknown and the infinite potential for rebirth. Through this ritual, individuals embrace the concept of letting go of past limitations, fears, and self-imposed boundaries by symbolically embracing The Void. It is a powerful acknowledgment of the inherent human capacity for change and growth.
This symbolic ritual is an embodiment of the journey through darkness and the subsequent emergence into the light. It reflects the universal truth that from darkness comes enlightenment and from death comes rebirth. The Void, in this context, represents a space of infinite possibility and potential, where individuals shed their former selves and embrace a newfound sense of purpose and authenticity. Those individuals seeking a deeper understanding of the dark baptism and its transformative symbolism will find inspiration and the profound interconnectedness of life and death. This realization can lead one to embrace the concept of symbolic death not as an end but as a sacred threshold – a gateway to renewal, metamorphosis, and liberation.
In conclusion, the dark baptism represents a powerful metaphor for personal transformation and renewal. By delving into the depths of The Void, individuals can release their former selves and embrace a new, empowered identity. This ritual serves as a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the infinite potential for growth and evolution. Embracing the symbolism of a dark baptism can lead to profound personal revelations and a renewed sense of purpose.
The “Death” of The Former Self Ritual
Best done during a Lunar Eclipse (eclipses descend and then ascend), but it can be done during a Dark Moon. This ritual can be done outside or in a bathtub.
This ritual calls for a tea mixture for the bath and an herbal incense blend to be made beforehand.
Lukewarm to cool temp baptism water… no warmed water like some church baptisms here. The colder the better. Cold water shocks the system and breaks open the aura.
Ritual Ingredients:
Tea mixture - NOT TO BE DRANK. For Bath Only!
Incense blend
Activated Charcoal Powder - to symbolize the darkness
Salt – For the consecration of water
2 Black Candles – to be placed on the side of the tub or pool
Charcoal disc to burn the incense blend
You may want to use candlelight but the darker the environment the better.
Tea Mixture & Incense Blend:
Both the tea and incense blend use the same 3 herbs. The tea needs to be made and allowed to completely cool first before adding to the bath. I made a tea kettle full. Please be warned that if you happen to get this in your mouth it is extremely bitter!
• Mugwort - Plant of the Middle World, burned at the start of a ritual. One starts & ends with Mugwort, as one starts & ends with the Middle World. Its Shamanic purpose in burning is purification, clearing the mind, and heightening extra senses for any trance work. It also consecrates.
• Wormwood - Wormwood is a close counterpart to Mugwort and has very similar properties, being of the same family. It is used mainly for summoning.
• Fumitory - Plant of the Underworld. Fumitory is burned to summon the Void & to cleanse and consecrate the ritual space.
Ritual Steps:
Make a small batch of Holy Water or use moon water and make a concentrated tea with some Mugwort, Wormwood, and Fumitory for the bath. Let it steep until the water is room temp.
Prepare bath water with salt and bless the water. You can use any water blessing you choose.
Add Herbal Tea & Charcoal to the water.
Place black candles on the sides of the bath and burn the incense mixture.
Prepare yourself by slowly and thoughtfully removing each item from your body, symbolically like you’re removing a layer of your former self. Enter the water and sit in the bath. Take a few minutes to adjust and ground so that you can enter a relaxed/meditative state.
Then before submerging yourself say: “Through water, fire, earth, and smoke, I come calling to The Void, the place of pure potential between death and rebirth. I call to The Void, marking this as an initiation so that I may be reborn to rise and ascend through all temples of initiations to obtain all higher forms & knowledge. Seeker I am, Seeker of the mysteries.”
Submerge yourself entirely. Expel all your breath and let yourself sink. Let the coolness seep in. Hold your breath as long as you can, then come up for air. As you go back under, allow the air from your lungs out slowly. Come up for one last breath. Breathe deeply and enter the relaxed/meditative again while releasing the breath slowly. As the last breath is released, so is the person you once were.
Now allow yourself to remain lying in the water in your relaxed state until the water turns cold and your teeth are chattering. Focus on the emptiness within. Take notice of all the “room” within that is waiting…like how we tell young children they have all the potential and how “the world is their oyster”.
Once you feel the initiation is complete, step out and towel off. Blow out your candles and cleanse the tub with salt afterward.
The Devil in My Bones: On Murkrim, the Witch’s Shadow and the Horned Hush
Author’s Note:
This is the story of Murkrim—what I call the Devil. Not the devil they scared us with in church, but the one I’ve met in dreams, in dirt, in trance, in fire. This is the Devil I know. The one that stirs truth. That tests, teaches, and lives deep inside the witch’s bones. I’m writing it because it’s real, and it’s mine.
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My Devil Ain’t the Church’s Devil
They say every witch meets the Devil sooner or later. So let’s be clear right out the gate—Murkrim ain’t the Church’s devil.
It ain’t some red-skinned boogeyman made to scare you into behaving. It ain’t sittin’ in a pit of flames waitin’ to torture sinners. I don’t walk with a pitchforked parody of evil—and I sure as hell don’t worship fear.
What I do walk with is Murkrim—my name for the Devil as known by witches like me. It’s the one who stands quiet in the center of all crossroads. Who waits, not with damnation, but with a choice. A fucking mirror. A question.
“Are you ready to know what you really are?”
And let me tell you, that answer’s never comfortable. But it’s always necessary.
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Murkrim Is the Witch’s Devil
Murkrim isn’t a god. Isn’t a ghost. Isn’t even a “he,” really. It’s older than language and gender and all those tidy boxes we try to cram power into. Murkrim is the dark before the spark. The breath before the spell. The shadow behind the want. The Void in purest form.
It didn’t show up to me in books.
It showed up in silence.
Like fog settlin’ into the pine. Like everything goin’ too quiet in the woods—the birds hush, the breeze dies, and your skin starts itchin’ like the air itself is watchin’.
That ain’t peace. That’s presence. That’s Murkrim.
It’s what I call the First Want. The hunger the world had to become. It’s the Void—not emptiness, but the everything-and-nothing that births all things. Murkrim is the Still Root. The Horned Hush. It is choice, raw and unflinching.
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The Witch’s Devil Doesn’t Speak in Thunder—It Moves Through Ruin
I didn’t meet Murkrim in a field under moonlight.
I met Murkrim in the void of an eclipse, lying in my tub shivering in water black as ink, whisperin’ into the darkness with a voice I barely recognized as my own.
It was 3 AM at the peak of an eclipse, and the sky had gone still.
The kind of still that don’t feel holy—it feels hollow. And I was askin’ for answers. For truth. For what was mine.
Be careful with that shit, by the way.
Because Murkrim don’t give you answers like a fortune cookie. It doesn’t pat you on the head and hand you what you want wrapped up in silk and good luck. It rips the roof off.
Murkrim don’t speak in thunder—it answers with collapse.
That ritual cracked open my whole life.
The days after were like watchin’ the Tower card play out in real time.
Things I thought were sacred—my practice, my path, my relationships, my identity—gone.
Burned down with a brutal kind of grace.
It wasn’t punishment. It was precision.
Murkrim didn’t say, “Let me destroy you.”
It said, “Let me destroy what you thought was you, so you can meet the one who’s always been underneath.”
What Murkrim gives isn’t comfort. It’s clarity. It hands you the blade, and then watches what you do with it.
I came out of that ritual singed.
But I built again—from ash, from bone, from truth.
And what rose wasn’t perfect.
It was real.
So no, Murkrim ain’t evil.
But it is a motherfucker when it’s ready to cut through what’s false.
And thank the dark for that.
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This Devil Lives in the Center
Murkrim lives at the center of the crossroads—where all roads meet and all spirits stir. It’s where the witch plants her feet when every path is possible, and none of them come with guarantees. It is stillness in a place of motion. The moment before the choice that changes everything.
It don’t walk beside you like a spirit guide.
It walks through you.
Because Murkrim ain’t just a force out there in the dark. It’s in here, too. It’s the part of you that don’t flinch when you’re tired of playin’ nice. The part that knows when to cut ties, raise hell, speak truth, and light a fire under your own damn feet.
Murkrim is your shadow. Your want. Your instinct. Your pain-honed power.
It ain’t your enemy.
It’s your reflection, if you’re brave enough to look.
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Murkrim Comes in Many Faces
Sometimes Murkrim shows up as a horned figure in dream. Sometimes it’s a crow on the fence line watchin’ too long. Sometimes it’s the feeling you get right before you do something bold and terrifying and exactly what your soul’s been beggin’ for.
And yeah—I’ve heard it speak in that same voice as Black Phillip in The VVitch:
“Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?”
Damn right, I would!
But not for decadence.
For freedom.
For truth.
For sovereignty.
And that’s what Murkrim offers—not indulgence, but full-bodied, fire-in-your-gut, fuck-what-they-think living.
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We Are Murkrim’s Altars
I don’t pray to Murkrim.
I reckon with it.
I don’t worship it.
I live in response to it.
Murkrim don’t want offerings of incense and sweet wine (though I’ve left both). What it wants is you—whole, aware, honest. It wants your pleasure. Your sovereignty. Your rage, your lust, your clarity. It wants you unmasked.
We are Murkrim’s living temples and altars. Our truth is the offering.
When I stand at the crossroads—whether in the woods or in my spirit—I don’t always have the answers.
But I’ve learned to stand still, breathe deep, and say:
“Alright, Devil. I’m listening.”
And every damn time, the hush answers back.
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If this stirred something in your bones…
Don’t just keep it to yourself.
Leave a sign.
Share how your Devil speaks to you—or the first time you met your own hush.
And if you walk the crooked road with the Old Mothers, keep watch—I’ve got more to say, and Murkrim’s not done speaking.
Devil Card
Always has been and will always be a gentleman.
Dionysos, the seen and the unseen 🍇🍷
✧ please do not repost to other sites~
~As Above, So Below~
Dionysus and the Devil
Some modern writers have suggested that memories of the cult of the Greek god Dionysus survived to influence the sabbath. There is no evidence of this, but there are several similarities between Dionysus and the Devil of the witches. Both appealed particularly to women and the rites of both were orgiastic. In animal form Dionysus sometimes appeared as a goat, though more often as a bull. At Eleutherai, the village from which his cult was exported to Athens, he was called Melanaigis, ‘he with the black goatskin’, and there was a ritual combat between ‘the Black One’ and ‘the Light One’, which suggests a parallel with the struggle between the Devil and God. At Delphi, Dionysus ruled the winter months and was apparently linked with the night sun or black sun, leading the dance of the stars, in contrast with the night sun or black sun, leading the dance of the stars, in contrast with the bright sun-god Apollo, who ruled the rest of the year. Dionysus was connected with the underworld, like other gods of fertility and vegetation, because plants and trees grow from beneath the surface of the ground.
- The Black Arts by Richard Cavendish
Cheers king! 🍇✨
dancing under the moon… howling ancient chants … and burning wild flowers with the beautiful feminine devotees of mad old gods… could be the move
This drawing ended up having some cool Dionysus vibes and I’m not complaining.
(thrashkink_art on instagram 😊)
Dionysus Nyctelius by @v-doesart
Happy Trans Day of Visibility— I wanted to celebrate by putting these two together in one post!
I’m a proud trans artist and I love celebrating trans people in my art!