occult art | The Blog of Baphomet

I’m sitting in Julian’s front room and I’m surrounded by a multitude of artefacts from past rituals and hours spent in meditation. While the wood burner and main altar space provide a natural centre piece, today my eyes are drawn to the array of cut-up collages that deck one of the walls. These are not elaborate or overly wrought attempts at occult art; rather they represent raw, psychic high-dives in order to explore fragments of self and the processes that unfold as we try to explore darker, stranger terrain.

Cut-up

Having recently read and enjoyed Queer by Meg-John Barker and Julia Scheele, I started reflecting on the possible connections between how cut-ups and Queer dynamics might interact in our process of exploring Self. I have already written a post reflecting on how cut-ups might interact with aspects of ego psychology, but their book got me to wondering further about how cut-ups might represent a highly queered and magical form of expression. As I observed back then:

“Like collage, cut-ups seek to use existing material in new ways that often involve the combining and juxtaposition of words and images so as to create new insight and meaning.

In tracking the lineage of cut-ups as an approach, from the surrealism of the Dadaists, Brion Gysin, Burroughs and Genesis P-Orridge, we can begin to see the depth of magical thinking embedded in this technique. As we seek to engage with and manipulate reality, the cut-up not only embodies the desired efficacy of our sorcery, but also the fluid shape-shifters that our arte forces us, the magician, to become. If our magic has any real depth, then our ego must undergo a similar process of reassembly.”

Cut-ups for me are a potent means of challenging our attempts at fixed certainty and polarity. Ideas and images that we previously kept apart are cast together in potentially abrupt disruption. These cut-ups don’t allow for tidy answers or for a buttoned-up, linear sense of self, rather they represent a bubbling up from the unconscious that may reveal as much about the dynamic tensions at work as they do potential answers. Apparently unconnected images are juxtaposed with stark headline text and so new meanings and connections are made. To me this dynamic process feels potentially unsettling and hugely creative and thus quite Queer:

“Queer is by definition whatever is at odds with the normal, the legitimate, the dominant. There is nothing in particular to which it necessarily refers. It is an identity without an essence. ‘Queer’ then, demarcates not a positivity but a positionality vis-à-vis the normative.” David Halperin Saint Foucault: Towards a Gay Hagiography

The Queer self is one that has a profound connection to the constructed and performed. As an outsider position it has had to survive by being magpie-like in pulling together those jewels and glimmering half-truths that help make sense of what it means to live with a greater sense of magic and power. Others may dismiss its rag-tag approach for its lack of coherence, but like the trickster or the holy fool it holds up a mirror to those parts of culture whose attempts at control appear all too reliant on dusty outdated certainties.

For me the playful complexity of Queer identity is one that disrupts my attempts at locating my sense of self in fixed descriptors and concrete identities. Any attempt to side-step curiosity and open-handed questioning is unlikely to withstand Queer’s rainbow-laser side-eye. This type of awareness asks that we acquire and develop skills that allow us to more effectively tolerate process, journey and uncertainty.

Wild words

Similarly the process of the cut-up requires vulnerability as we step-back, allowing patterns and (potential) meanings to emerge. Techniques such as cut-ups and automatic writing/drawing are certainly more towards the artistic end of the “Art and Science” dialectic, but such creativity shouldn’t be mistaken for laxity. Ironically it often seems that as we seek to make use of approaches that are less linear and apparently chaotic, that we have to exercise a more focused sense of awareness in gaining benefit from them. It may be that those people who are drawn to more scripted workings do so because it provides them with a greater sense of security and control.

One of the primary reasons that I was drawn to the magical path was its sense of collaboration and play. World views and metaphysics that declared absolute certainty were no longer viable but I was still hungry to explore the mystery of consciousness and the glimpses of awakening that were coming in and out of view. Techniques like cut-ups and collage can provide us with potent and creative means for accessing new insights regarding the paths we are seeking to walk. They are rarely complete answers, more often they are snapshots of a work in progress that we may need to slow down and wait for, rather than rushing to a sensible, adult conclusion.

I’ve been playing with the excellent Chaos Magick Group tarot recently. This wonderful collaborative work of contemporary occultists is still available to purchase, though I understand this may not be for long. If you want a copy, as E.A.Koetting might say, better act now!

A couple of weeks ago I had the opportunity to present this deck at a large meeting of members of the IOT, and indeed to use it in a ritual context. Although I and a couple of other members of the IOT contributed card designs to the project, this tarot emerges from the wider chaos magical community. The virtual work space (a Facebook group) in which this deck was created provided the means for geographically distant occultists to work together. The creation of media by magicians, working in virtual spaces is, I suspect, something we will see more and more of. Working on these types of creative projects seems to me to be a good use of the technology I and my peers have access to.

I really enjoy collaborative working (many of my books are co-authored for this reason), so when it comes to doing magical ceremony the stuff I like most is group practice. While I’ve been involved in a few experiments in group ritual over Skype and using other tech, so far nothing comes close to being in the same physical sacred space with other magicians. Working directly with others is rich territory; there are many practices that would be impractical without collaboration; there is the possibility of camaraderie, of feedback, of challenge and much more. For me the IOT provides and excellent network through which I get to meet and work with cool magicians in physical (as well as sometimes virtual) spaces. I’m also fortunate that my relationships within the shamanic and Wiccan communities means that I’ve been able to physically work alongside some fabulous practitioners of those styles too.

Of course solitary work is important but even activities such as mindfulness meditation can benefit from the existence of a sangha, a community of practice (which provides the opportunity to practice together). Sure there may be people who, in terms of their own style, prefer to be primarily solitary. However humans are social creatures and I think that it’s helpful to bring our magic, especially our ritual work, into contact with other humans.

Loners who just can’t stop joining teams

One way this happens for me is via the work of being a celebrant or Priest. In that capacity those of us who do this kind of work make an offering of our skills to facilitate ritual for others. But this isn’t the same as working in a community of peers, be that a coven, temple, working group, circle or whatever. Working with other people helps us to not disappear into obsessive or narcissistic paradigms (aka up ‘one’s own arse’). Magicians, by the nature of their studies, can benefit from the occasional reality check and outside critique. A good community of practice, while supporting the basic premise of spiritual endeavor, seeks also to help the individual develop the Self (or find their ‘True Will’, ‘make their Soul’, become ‘Illuminated’ or whatever) in context of others. This is important since this is where we live – with other people.

Cultivating good, mutually beneficial relationships with others is an important part of the development of any magician who wishes to be enriched by the (human) spirits they consort with on a daily basis. The mythic tower inhabited by the iconic solitary sorcerer may make for a Tolkienesque glamour, but successful magicians are real people living with families, colleagues and the rest of humanity, connected within the noosphere of the 21st century. Meeting other humans in physical magical spaces (of an ongoing esoteric community and within ceremonial settings) – for all the slings and arrows of social interaction – helps us understand who we are, as magicians and as people.

So back to that example of good collaboration via the internet, the CMG Tarot. It was suggested in the group that contributing artists write some text to accompany their work, so here’s a brief commentary on the cards I created:

The Ace of Disks is also known as the Root of the Powers of Earth. In divination it indicates the core qualities associated with the Earthly element. These include wealth, work, the physical body, property, diligent study, territory.

The quality of this card is generally beneficial, pointing towards productive striving, steadfast discipline and success. When this symbol is encountered in difficult circumstances the process may be that of struggle, limiting obligation and toil, but unless the conditions are very difficult, there is still the suggestion of success if determination is applied.

The disk shown is the Pentacle held as part of the regalia of the British Isles Section of The Magical Pact of the Illuminates of Thanateros. A ceremonial requirement of this tool is that it is regularly used in ritual with non-members of the IOT since the purpose of the pentacle, as a plate, is to share (typically offerings of food). The disk itself is fashioned from a mirror (since magic is all about smoke and mirrors).

Various ritual items emblematic of the diversity of chaos magical practice are shown arrayed round the disk. These include the vertebra of a whale, a rudraksha mala, a chicken mask, a reefer, a drum, a scourge, a dildo and sundry other objects.

The Ace of Disks is typically the card upon which the publisher of a deck sets their seal or monogram. In this case the disk displays the eight-fold star of chaos and the koan ‘Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted’.

Ace tarot

The Ten of Disks is the final card in the tarot deck. It represents the full unfolding of the earth element and the ‘completed’ journey of The Fool that is the narrative of the cards as the Mutis Liber. Using the astrological scheme devised by McGregor Mathers, this card is related to Mercury in the sign of Virgo, while the number 10 denotes the sephira of Malkuth, the World, and the final outpouring of the divine emanation. This combination of symbols strongly links this card to The Great Work as the full-flowering of illumination; however this does not lead to ‘resting on one’s laurels’ but paves the way for a new iteration of the magical process.

(The bad news for folk who think they have ‘attained’ Enlightenment (or whatever) is that nothing stays the same and there is always the perennial question, ‘what next?’)

Within the New Age paradigm this card may represent ‘prosperity consciousness’ and our ability to manifest our wealth. This may suggest a change from a scarcity based frame of mind to one predicated on an imagined universal abundance (or at least the possibility of realizing desire). The fruition of investments may be indicated by this card, retirement, and a sense of accomplishment. Like the rune Othala this card is related to the idea of inheritance (of money, property, genetics, stories of our culture), the wealth that comes to us and which we in turn pass on to others.

The disks show in the image are drawn from many nations suggesting they are owned by someone who has lived a well-travelled and rich life. The disks are shown spilling, or perhaps flying, out of a bag. This bag is the same one typically carried in images of The Fool over the shoulder as a bindle, or on the back as a knapsack.

The bag is emblazoned with the stars of deep space recalling the primeval Kia from which emerge all the objects of the world. The title of this card is ‘Lord of Wealth’ and the wise understand that Wealth, though symbolised here as coins, comes in many forms. (All money is forged not of metal but from the imagination. The person with a rich imagination, combined with the diligence represented by the earthly disks, can never be poor.) The coins in this card are free from their original containment in The Fool’s knapsack, since Wealth implies freedom and exchange rather than avarice and acquisition. They have, in an esoteric sense, been put into circulation (‘spent’) by The Fool during the journey through the other 76 cards. In the 10 of Pentacles the initial ‘capital’ of The Fool reappears in the form of experiential Wealth because he has invested in the journey and not retreated from engagement with the World.

One of the disks shown is a solid gold chaosphere owned by a former British Isles Section Head of The Illuminates of Thanateros, this was crafted by the master jeweller Russell Lownsbrough. Another is made of chocolate.

Lord of Wealth

The tarot cards are a magical community, a jostling pack of spirits. They mean things in themselves (though not perhaps without an observer…) but gain so much more in relationship with their fellows.

As occultists we also live among the spirits; of animals, plants, places, people and more. It is in those relationships where much of the magic happens, just as it is within the combination of cards that the reading, the transformative journey of question and revelation, unfolds.