Just a quick note for those of you who have been following this blog for a long time. I’m going to begin moving posts and links over to the Greenwoman Studio website.

I think I’ll eventually set it up so this blog automatically redirects you to my new site. But if you want to keep up with what I’m doing, you should make the jump now.

Hope to see you there!

Where I’ve Been

This year has been a year of experimenting with my on-line presence: trying new social media, setting up new websites, re-posting and cross-posting and dabbling in a lot of new things.

And while I can’t say I’ve made a big splash, I CAN say I’ve learned a lot.

For the past several weeks I’ve been working on the Greenwoman Studio website, and for the most part, I think it’s finished–though it will always be evolving. So if you are still following me, what with all the jumping around I’ve been doing, you might want to wander over there and make a note of the link. The new blog is very similar to this one: I just wanted to put all my interests and activities in one site.

Hope to see you there!

Screen shot 2014-09-20 at 10.03.19 AM

Creekside: An afternoon at Sain Creek

Yesterday I took my stepkids for a little picnic at Sain Creek (part of the Scoggins Valley Park). Our favorite picnic area is shady, and since it doesn’t really have any fancy amenities, it tends to be less crowded than most other parts of the park.

sain creek 5

The creek is ice cold and clear, perfect for wading or sitting on a big rock and soaking your feet.

sain creek 4

The play of light and shadows over the water was enchanting.

sain creek 2

As were the tree roots hanging over the bank of the creek.

sain creek 1

The afternoon was a nice change of pace; cool, moving water, shadows, green growing things, and a very smart crow who stole some of our potato chips. I didn’t get a picture of the thief: he or she was too fast.

sain creek 3

Full Moon Magic: Consecration Oil

This post has moved! Visit it at it’s new home.

Sometimes Magic Has the Last Word

Some of you may remember that I used to make charms that I sold in my Etsy shop. Usually I made charms by request, but every once in a while I would feel compelled to make something without knowing the identity of the recipient.

This happened during the last month I lived with my ex. The rosehips were extraordinarily bright, the teasel was especially abundant, and the Hawthorn tree dropped a branch–or rather, flung it, if its location several feet from the tree was any indication.

I took these signs to mean the garden was on a mission, and I set about making some charms, though I didn’t know who they were for. I made two–a love charm, and a protection charm.

Normally when I start a creative project, I have some idea of what I want it to look like in the end. But when it comes to charms, I always feel the objects have their own agendas. I usually end up feeling my way through the process. Basically, it begins with the components. I spread the pieces out on my workspace and stare at them. I drink tea. I move things around. I stare at them some more. And then somehow, something clicks, and the object comes together into a harmonious whole. The process is usually time consuming. In the case of the love and protection charms, it took hours. But they were happy, focused, magical hours.

love charm sagewoman2

I charged the love charm and the protection charm under the full moon. The love charm was so intense and potent it made me nervous. I put it in a box and waited to learn who it was for.

Two weeks later my life fell apart. (Or should I say, finished falling apart. The process had been underway for months, whether I was willing to admit it or not.) Those two charms were the last magical objects I would make in my old home: most of my herbal supplies had to be left behind, but the love charm and the protection charm came with me to the city. They hid in a box in my altar cabinet for several months while I got my feet under me.

The protection charm came out first, when feelings of vulnerability and dismay overwhelmed me.

Then, several months after my new start, I set up an altar and asked for love. I was drained and miserable, and I couldn’t summon up the reserves for a proper spell. So I retrieved the love charm from its box and placed it on my tiny altar, atop a pile of carnelian, amethyst, and rose quartz. I added two hand-knit, hand-embroidered hearts I made with a friend years ago, and some beeswax candles.

Less than two months later I fell head over heels in love. It was love at first sight–or I should say, first conversation. Last summer we adopted kittens together. Last fall, we moved in together. We’re getting married next year.

Sometimes I don’t know I’m doing magic for myself. I didn’t need the love charm when I made it. Maybe a part of me knew a time would come, several months in my future, when I would need that magic, and wouldn’t have the resources or presence of mind to do a working of that magnitude for myself. Or maybe the guides who show me what I need to know when I’m doing reiki or giving a reading directed my hands.

I know magic is largely about intention and focus, but I also know there’s a strong component of mystery to it–at least for me. When I do magic, I’m setting things in motion with my will; but I’m also joining forces with energies outside myself, whose methods might be different from my own. I think this element of surprise, the entrance of external forces into my plans, is what makes magic work when my so-called mundane efforts have failed.

It’s also why I tend to use magic as a last resort, after I’ve tried every other thing I can think of. Maybe other witches are smart enough to control all the variables of their spells, to determine the outcomes, but I’ve always had to allow a lot of room for synchronicity in my life. Yes, my spells almost always work. But they never, ever work the way I expect.

Sometimes, as in the case of the love charm, I’m really glad they don’t.

A Year is a Long Time in the Garden

So just over a year ago I shared this picture of my little herb garden with all of you.

My Babies!


This is the same garden bed, from almost the same angle, as of last night.

my babies 2014

I couldn’t shoot it from exactly the same angle without cutting off too many leaves and flowers.

What a difference a year makes.

Haystack Rock and The Needles

I think everyone who lives in Oregon has taken a picture (or twelve) of Haystack Rock. I’m no exception.

Cannon Beach 1

I wouldn’t call this a particularly compelling Haystack Rock picture, but I like the birds flying away from the rock, and the reflection on the water.

There are some tower-like formations to the south of Haystack Rock. According to Wikipedia, they smaller stacks are known, collectively, as “The Needles”. I actually find them more interesting than the main attraction: they’re like some kind of gate posts. I feel like if I could sail a boat between them I might end up somewhere entirely other.

Cannon Beach 11



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