I love writing because it helps me to share what I’m passionate about, figure out what I’m actually trying to say and do with this life of mine, and all while connecting with folks like you in the work and play of building a more just and more kind world. If you’ve been moved by my writing or used the resources I’ve created then please consider showing some love by becoming supporter.
Your support helps to create momentum for future projects like a podcast focusing on creating and celebrating magick culture, a video series on herbal and enchanted arts, and of course more free and low-cost resources both online and in-person.
The Dandelion subscription is free. I know that not everyone has the means to donate money but you can do any of the following to support my work:
Subscribe to Magick Mail.
Share my posts with your community.
Choose kindness daily.
The Milky Oat subscription is $1 a month - sign up. Here is a Renaissance faire fake old english style poem of gratitude:
Oh thou who would’st cast a dollar at me
are planting the acorns of a mighty oak tree
perhaps acorn should’ve been the name of this level
but let the angels have reason for we dance with the devil
The Basil subscription is $3 a month - sign up. Here is a angsty middle school style poem of gratitude:
My soul is burning with the heat of misery
my only gladness is the solace of being me
not a sheep but a gryphon with shining silver wings
flying with you and our $3 victory
The Sage subscription is $6 a month - sign up. Here is a haiku style poem of gratitude written by a super deep hipster at a coffee shop:
Who needs a penny
for thoughts worth six dollars
the mind can’t be bought
The Mugwort subscription is $9 a month - sign up. Here is a spell style poem of gratitude from swamp witch:
bones and blood
sweat and tears
the wisdom of the ages
the wrinkles of years
you are nine beacons
all darkness, all light
where once was fear
is only your bright
The Elder subscription is $18 a month - sign up. Here is a poem of gratitude that you would find spray-painted on a disused phone box:
We’re all stuck here together
Might as well be nice