Open Acts of Rebellion


Yes, that’s right, I’m dipping my toe back into politics again. The times being as they are, I’m particularly angry at the patriarchy. Well, more than normal. More than before the elections. Gee, I wonder why. (Obvious sarcasm is obvious) So this is a warning that if politics aren’t your thing, you might not want to stick around. Also, this post will most definitely appeal more to women, both cis and trans, and some of our fluid friends, and less-so to those concretely cis or trans male. There will also be mentions, likely brief, of my own mental health journey. You have been warned! 

I’m pretty sure that I’ve mentioned, a few times, that I have some neurodivergence issues as well as anxiety and a whole mess of other fun stuff running around in my head. Some of it was a result of bullying and, well, parental issues. Most people can relate to all that, I’m sure. One of the side-effects was an absolutely abysmal self-esteem.

When I say abysmal, I mean I told my therapist I hate my face, and I meant it.

I’ve learned a bit about my dysfunctions now, and I’ve taken some steps to work on it. As progress came around and I stopped hating my face and moved into at least tolerating it, I started thinking about cosmetics.

There were a few other coincidental things that happened at the same time, like the mention of different influencers by someone I was already watching. Coincidence or divine intervention? Probably both, given my life.

You might have noticed, also, that a whole mess of people, mostly identifying as women, have been sporting bright red lipstick. When I looked into it, I found the rumor? Urban myth? That Hitler hated red lipstick and so it was considered patriotic during the WWII era.

AOC is one of the most well-known women with red lips these days aside from Taylor Swift. I’d have added her picture, but I don’t want to get sued!

Now, I can see that as a definite possibility as to why it’s popular now. But honestly, it’s a lot more complicated than that. Most things are, aren’t they?

So, as it turns out, nope. Hitler didn’t actually care about red lipstick in particular That was, and is, a myth.

However, its complicated, amirite? First off, red lipstick was one of the first lipsticks ever created. The Egyptians rocked it, for Pete’s sake.

As far as the “Western” (aka “white”) world goes, lipstick was “created” (because everything we ever do is new) so the man’s lips could be seen in all that hair when beards were all the rage. And because the male ego is so fragile in our patriarchy, they stopped using it as soon as women did, just like high heels and the color pink. Wimps.

Women have been fighting the patriarchy about makeup ever since. It was considered very naughty, like wearing pants, drinking, and smoking. We weren’t supposed to do it. Good girls didn’t. Like we weren’t supposed to have jobs, vote, or think. Let’s face it, that idea has survived through centuries now. Hell, I remember calling red lipstick “FMR” when I was in high school; “f*ck me red.” Good girls didn’t.

Thankfully, some of us didn’t listen.

During the suffragist movements of the early 1900s, red lipstick came out as a power move, a method of rebellion, of not taking the direction of men anymore. As far as “Christian western” civilization goes, that was the beginning.

If you’re thing is history and makeup, this channel is the BOMB. (Did I just date myself? Probably. *shrug*)

As Erin says in the video above, Hitler didn’t care. It cracks me up that Ava Braun had a tube of “Montezuma Red” on her dressing table, because the truth of WWII is that red lipstick was used against women. It was less about being patriotic or fighting Fascism, and more about being beautiful to maintain the men’s morale. Eye candy. Great. That kind of takes the entire point of the power of red lipstick away.

But let’s take another look at history, and culture right here. As much as Hitler didn’t hate red lipstick, it wasn’t encouraged for the most part. Women aside from those close to positions of power, were wearing the “natural look.” Women who wore makeup were considered cheap or tacky or, heaven forbid, “whores.” Sound familiar? Yeah, I’ve heard the same BS coming out of the mouths of MAGA members and incel trolls on the internet. It’s come around again. Watch a few tutorials or walk around a cosmetics counter or aisle. Neutral, neutral, neutral. BORING and neutral has been the theme as of late.

If I ever see another neutral palette, I will not be responsible for my actions.

Also on the Internet, we have such a selection of Trad Wives to follow. Good girls, at home, baking bread and caring for their 15 million children. Straight out of Handmaid’s Tale, I swear. How are they dressed? No pants for the most part, neat, tidy, conservative, with no cleavage at all showing, and barely a shoulder or knee to be seen. Just like the Hitler Women.

The truth is that cults always control what is worn by its members. FLDS and their prairie dresses, Hare Krishnas with their saffron robes, Scientology with their imitation naval uniforms are all fine examples of wardrobe control in action. There are thousands more from more mainstream cults like Mormons all the way up to the far out of reality ones like Heaven’s Gate. Sometimes it’s a law and enforced, sometimes it’s a culture that’s readily adapted and accepted, but it’s almost always there.

It’s one of the ways those in power force us to walk in step.

And so, here is my decision. It’s not just about lipstick. It’s not just about red lipstick. It’s about creativity and freedom of expression. I don’t care which fashion you choose; it could be punk, goth, hippy, raver, disco, or alien. Rock that look; rock it hard. Rock it everywhere. Be a diva. Be YOURSELF.

It’s an open act of rebellion that we can all participate in. Yes, men are invited as well, because let’s face it, they’re not “supposed” to. Ha. Let’s show them they can’t break us.

The irony is that I finally found my “perfect” shade of red and decided I just can’t do it that often. My hair is blue, and I am waaaaay too fair skinned not to look like a flag. sigh

That’s okay though, I have some groovy shades of blue, purple, silver, gold, and even green now…🤣🤣🤣

It’s Just Business?


Can I tell you how much I detest that phrase? I’ve never had any use for it, and some of the worst people in my life have used that as an excuse for all sorts of horrid actions. It’s never been just business to me.

But then, I think I’ve vented about that before. I am me. I’ve worked very hard, and I’m still working very hard, to be me. I will not divide myself into bite-sized chunks for easy digestion. It just doesn’t work that way. My religion, witchcraft, crafts, arts, politics, humor, disabilities, and neuro-spiciness can’t be parsed out.

When I was searching my brain for a business name, for a brand, as they call it, I wanted something all-encompassing. Like this blog, it was going to be my home, so I needed to be comfortable in it, and feel it expressed all those facets of me-ness. I’ve had a few bad business names in my life, and I’ve seethed with jealousy at friends who just had the best, most creative, most interesting business names. No one seemed to be able to help me with that, though. I don’t know why but all those friends with brilliant business names weren’t able to help me come up with one for mine.

I was on my own.

The breakthrough came when I managed to get an email address with no numbers or extra letters for the name of one of my all-time favorite movies; “High Spirits.”

It’s an older movie, so I expect almost no one has seen it, and of the few who have, I suspect you might not remember it. Without exaggeration, this is one of the most accurate movies about Spirits I have ever seen.

Yes, it is a comedy. I mean, with Peter O’Toole and Steve Guttenberg I doubt there was any doubt in your minds about that. And still, a very realistic portrayal of Spirits. They are, for me at least, very much as they were in life. I don’t see them, so I don’t see the disintegration of the body so much as depicted in this movie, although I’ve hears some psychics who claim to see them this way. I have the feeling for the movie, it was more of a costume decision than an attempt at realism, though.

Obviously, that’s about all my business has in common with this movie. But it was definitely the inspiration. I could see that some would assume it was “high” as in certain recreational and medicinal substances “high,” but that wasn’t part of my inspiration for the business at the time. It is one of my me-ness facets, though, as I do use that substance medicinally as I have peripheral neuropathy. It’s one of the few substances I have found that actually works for nerve pain and is an excellent substitute for the prescription medicine that would otherwise be my only other choice.

Not that kind of “high spirits”!

There is a play on words here, though. Because in Spiritism I learned that praying for the Spirits enlightens them. A word play that absolutely works better in English. As a polytheistic Spiritist, as opposed to the normal Catholic flavor, I don’t necessarily see prayer as the connection here, but I do believe that communicating, working with them, and caring for them does “raise” them in a way. It’s not as much a matter of getting into heaven as it is improving the life of their incarnation present with me in this time frame but also gives them something of an edge on the other side. The details are still a bit unclear, but it’s what I’ve been hearing lately.

Naturally, the exact name of “High Spirits” was not available on Etsy. Which is fine. I don’t think I’d want it to be exact as then there could be potential conflict with the movie. As much as it is an inspiration for my business name, I did like the idea of setting myself apart. The obvious choice for me was to add “Divine.” More word play for the win!

Divine because for most of us, at least, the Spirits I am creating for are considered “Gods.” Whatever that is. 😉Gods are, no matter their characteristics, the definition of “Divine.” A word play needs two different meanings at least, so let’s throw on there that I also use divination to determine what to do for whom. Well, often I do at least. Sometimes it’s more of a known factor, and sometimes I have to whip out my pendulum and ask. I’m slowly becoming less dependent on the pendulum which is a big “YAY”. For a third part to this fun little word play, divine with a lower-case d, as in my designs are “divine.” Beautiful, or at least I like to think so.

There’s part of the Origin Story for High Spirits Divine Jewelry & Sundries 🙂. There’s more, of course, and I’ll get to it one of these days. In the meantime, I have some Dionysus products that I need to get out and some edits on Brigid I’m working on!

Honestly, these two are having a great time being difficult!

Do yourself a favor. If you haven’t watched High Spirits, give it a whirl. It’s on YouTube for free.

I am My Own Worst Enemy. Again.


Last August, I started a store on Etsy. I’ve been making jewelry and other beaded crafts forever, and I thought, “why not?” I’d started making jewelry again, just for myself after a very long break. I was burned out. Not from the store, but from the additional drama and stupid emotional decisions I’d made while there.

Like I said in the title, again.

Having learned all those lessons and more, and having started my therapy jewelry, I started to believe I was healthy enough to at least wear my artwork. And I am. But selling it?

I’m in the middle of it now, so there’s no easy way of going back. 🙃

I didn’t go into this Etsy thing blind. I started, as most people do these days I suppose, with YouTube. I found a variety of Etsy “coaches,” each one having their own view on how to do Etsy “right.” Don’t get me wrong, there are a lot of HORRIBLE “coaches” on YouTube. Especially post-pandemic. During the pandemic, you could throw almost anything up on Etsy and it would magically sell. Many self-appointed gurus took that and ran with it, making more money off of telling people how to make 100,000 a year off of Print-on-Demand.

Ummm…no. No, thanks.

Luckily, I wasn’t looking for a get-rich-quick scheme, so I avoided the worst of them. But I did find three potentially good coaches right away, and several I was keeping an eye on because they were still very “young” in YouTube terms. Good, but unproven. The coach I finally settled on had so much free content that I was flabbergasted. I learned so much just watching her free how-to videos. Not only that, but as I’m not Christian, she was obviously more accepting and understanding of the niche I’d intended to go into.

Somewhere between absorbing everything I could from her free content, and finally taking the dive into taking her course, I went from thinking I had the gist of SEO and believing I was awful at it, it was no good, and I sucked.

Self-esteem is one of my worst problems. Sigh

In that same space, I started to understand the POD world. I had started a Canva account because it was recommended by the Coaches, to use for the Etsy banner, and social media posts. I had begun getting arthritis in my fingers, and this was a different kind of creation that I could do and use different parts of my hands, at least.

I also started learning the fine art of resin pouring. 😉When I get some decent photos of those pieces, I’ll share them here first!

I also took a photo course through another coach who is AMAZING, that I learned of from my Etsy Coaches. Extra bonus points!

But…

There I was, about two months before my second Q4 go around. The first go round, I made…0. Nada. Zilch. I was hopeful that this Q4 would be better. And it was. Probably not as good as it could have been if I hadn’t absolutely given up on my SEO and just not added any at all. On 254 listings. Ouch.

If you don’t know what SEO is, it stands for Search Engine Optimization. My best explanation of it is that those are the sweet little words that people looking for what I’ve got use to search for it. If I have the same words the customers are using, then it’s a match and you’ll probably find me. If not, well, the chances anyone will find me are slim and none. Right.

Panic stricken, I started to add SEO and wouldn’t you know it? The same SEO I was using before landed my listings on the “front page” according to Erank. In other words, I was using the right SEO and didn’t know it. I had stopped adding SEO for no apparently good reason at all. I just didn’t have faith in myself.

I was still in panic mode, though. I had not only SEO for 254 listings to do but also had to create photos for 254 listings. At least 5 per listing. 254 times 5…

1270 photos.

Needless to say, I did not get it all done by the start of Q4. In fact, it’s still not all done. I’m finally okay with that. I let it go.

I did have better sales this year than last year, which isn’t surprising at all. I’m sure I could have done even better with SEO on everything, and I will get there. I don’t yet rely on this income, so I have some time. With the economy as it is now, I wasn’t even really expecting much. There’s nothing I make currently that would be necessary for anyone’s existence. Some of us are walking that line, and I get that.

The other contributing problem I encountered was my programming from Corporate America. Let’s face it, we’re trained from early on to work harder and faster, harder and faster, with less and less. This is my business. I’m the boss and the only employee. It’s not about doing things fast and getting them done “good enough.” It’s about doing it well, making things people will love that I can be proud of, and taking my time doing it right, not fast.

The SEO will get done when the SEO gets done. I’m committed to doing one or two, maybe even three listings a day, at a minimum. That’s enough. The rest of the time I can then commit to things like making new things, marketing, taking the best pictures I can, and customer service which means a LOT to me. 😎 I can honestly say that so far I’ve got the best customers on earth, EVER.

Oh, and I can finally get around to starting that email list I keep meaning to get to!

Therapy is working. I’m an old dog, but I’m learning some new tricks. I’m onto myself, too. When I approach something and feel like I just can’t do it right, I need to stop and think. Is it all in my head, or is there something to it? I really need to make friends with myself. I think that’s one of my major lessons to conquer in therapy.

Side Step


Decisions, Decisions, Decisions…

I just did the math. I met my BFE (Best Friend EVER) 17 years ago. Its gone too goddamn fast. I can’t believe how long we’ve been together now, and at the same time it seems like we’ve known each other forever. Weird how that works, isn’t it?

I remember when I met her. I had moved the store from one side of the theater to the other which had given me a lot more room. It was still a ridiculously small storefront, but it was what I could afford, and it worked. Jewelry is, after all, pretty small.

I’d already been invaded by the first round of leeches. I’ve had problems with leeches all my life, so this was no different. Its only recently that I’ve been able to figure this problem out, and Bestie has been a major part of understanding why I keep getting into that cycle.

It took finding someone who knows how to be a best friend for me to be able to compare and understand who isn’t a friend, to start on that path.

The leeches in this part of my life we’ve been referring to as the “Evil Three.” Not as much for anonymity as because it seems people we never want to see again have a strange way of showing up after we say their names out loud. Call it superstition, call it evocation magic, but it happens an awful lot. Its been nearly 20 years since they’ve been relevant, let alone evil, but we’ll roll with this for now.

The players here are Evil A, Evil J, and Evil M. M wasn’t as evil as the other two; he was as much a victim as I was, however he had a helluva anger issue, and lost all concepts of rationality when he’d get angry. He was also hopelessly (and stupidly) in love with Evil A, so he had a tendency to take her causes a bit too much to heart. To this day, I feel sorry for him.

I met Bestie when she came with Evil J to the store for the downtown business Halloween trick-or-treating. It was more of a social function than anything else, and Evil J was dressing as a witch. Bestie was ostensibly there to help her with her costume which was a witch complete with prosthetic nose.

A nose that Bestie and I realized she didn’t even need. It wasn’t much bigger than her own, frankly.

Now, when I started this store, and for that matter when I moved into this house some ten years later, I thought of myself as at least nominally Wiccan. I’d started drifting into polytheism by virtue of having run into a couple of Deities already, but I still thought in a Wiccan framework. When I set up my “Spooky Room” at the house here, I had four small altars for each of the Quarters, and the main altar in the middle so I could face whatever way I’d needed. Verrrrrrrrrrrrrry Wiccan-ish.

Bestie came in with this energy I was immediately drawn to. She has this bright red hair, a little girl voice that doesn’t match her physique but really matches her child like nature and joy, and she was wearing layers of beaded necklaces. I was so curious, intrigued, and drawn in. I always am curious about people who are different, so I suppose that isn’t all that odd for me. I didn’t want her to think she was some sort of freak show, so I was trying to let her release whatever information about herself she wanted to in a pace she was comfortable with.

That wasn’t easy!

As I remember it though, we took to each other immediately. Talking at a hundred words a minute or more. She was the first Voodoo practitioner I’d ever met, at least to my own knowledge. Curious doesn’t really even begin to explain it. Given I’ve had a hyper-fixation on religious beliefs and magickal practices as long as I can remember, to say I was obsessed is a polite term.

Thankfully, she seems to have felt the same way, and she came back. A lot.

But things happened, as they always do for me. The Evil Three became more and more controlling, more and more manipulative. They also showed up at the store more and more. It became harder and harder for me to get business in as they were generally always there, and it started to look like a hangout.

They weren’t the only ones, either. There was a handful of teenagers, or I should say successions of teenagers who did the same thing. I didn’t mind as much Friday nights as the town had a car show every Friday night so having people in and around the store wasn’t so very odd. But Evil A, in particular, began acting like she owned the place.

Now, I made several of my own mistakes in all of this, and I’m sure to get into those sooner or later. Some of that was that I was too sympathetic to Evil M. As I said, we’ll get there.

Evil J was the particular problem at this juncture though.

First off, I realized how little she actually knew. She’d been in a coven, I hadn’t. I wanted to have Wicca 101 classes at night once a week when we were closed. As I hadn’t been in an actual coven, I was a little insecure teaching that part of the religion. I could teach from a sole practitioner perspective, but the coven she’d attended had been Gardnerian. I wanted that input for the class. So I asked her if she’d like to teach the class with me.

The suggestion I made is that I would handle the spell work portion, if she’d handle the ritual portion. We could alternate weeks, and I’d jump in for the solitary work if she wasn’t comfortable with it.

We started off the first lesson with her presentation. I really ought to have discussed more with her before hand, I really ought to have…

Because immediately she got into spell work. She didn’t know the difference between spells and rituals. I don’t even think, in retrospect, that she understood the Wiccan holidays enough to describe them, let alone teach about them.

It was disappointing, to say the least.

Evil J almost immediately, as she saw Bestie and I bonding, started bitching. There was always something wrong about Bestie. It got old, fast. And as much as they were supposed to be best friends at the time, she was constantly putting her down. That is, unless she was bragging about her. If anyone at all said something about Bestie being smart, or cool, or impressed with her in anyway, suddenly Bestie was J’s friend. It was odd.

It didn’t take long for her to start shoving Bestie off, either. She didn’t drive, so she was dependent on the train. Her (at the time) boyfriend would pick her up from the train station. If she wanted to stay later or she missed her train, she would ask for J to take her home. Now J lived to the east of the store, Bestie lived one town farther to the east, about 10 minutes or so.

But it was too far for her. Every single time Bestie wanted to stay and asked if J would take her home, J would say yes, and then J would, without Bestie hearing, ask me to either persuade her to take the train or ask for someone else to take her home. After telling Bestie she would drive her home.

Sometimes I would just wait with Bestie at the train station, making jokes about it being such a “horrible neighborhood” that I didn’t want her to risk being there by herself. Eventually though, I started just driving her home. It was faster than the train, and we didn’t have to stand around at the station waiting, which made it even faster for her. It didn’t seem to take more than a few minutes for me to drive her either, so even though I was a good 45 minutes to the west of there, it wasn’t problematic for me at all.

And it gave us a chance to talk. Alone.

That explains how we got closer and closer. Considering the kind of people we both are, it also explains how we started exchanging information about religion and spellwork. Because of course we did. This also explains how I started to understand Voodoo.

It wasn’t long before we parted ways with the Evil Three. Maybe I’ll get into that some day, maybe not. There’s not a lot there I care about anymore, except for the lessons I learned.

Bestie quit her job and became my “work wife” not long after we saw the Evil Three depart. We spent more than eight hours a day together, six days a week, and never once tired of each other. In all our years, we’ve had one break down (I’ll get into that, for sure…) and I got mad at her exactly once, but it wasn’t even her fault then. I think she got mad at me once, too, so we’re even. In seventeen years. That’s not a bad run.

At some point between her being there sometimes and being there all the time, Bestie met a Babalawo at a local flea market where he had a booth. For those unaware, this is a type of priest through Ifa or Santeria. That’s how the Side Step happened.

Throughout this all, I’m wresting with what I’ve learned. Because someone so burnt by Christianity, who threw it out whole cloth, is going to have issues with Voodoo. Especially someone with one foot already in polytheism who hasn’t completely deconstructed Christianity yet.

Voodoo has a veneer of Christianity over it to this day. Some people have started trying to “restore” it to its original pre-slavery context, making it into some sort of African Polytheism, but that’s not the tradition practiced by most. For the rest of the world, they’re Catholics who happen to venerate the Lwa.

Then, Bestie ends up taking me in to see her Babalawo, who found my ruling Orisha. I had to start smashing square pegs into octagon shaped holes. It wasn’t easy. An awful lot didn’t get straightened out until I began to understand both the history of Christianity better, and the concept of Omnism.

Funny how our paths will seem so straight and predictable for years and years until we just get curious and find that weird path off to the side of the main path and we end up on a completely different, and even less trodden path.