Tag Archives: spirits

Featured Artist Interview May 2016: Wicked Alterations

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To find where Denise of Wicked Alterations sells her wares visit her on her artist page on HAB. 

Interview with Denise Mattox of Wicked Alterations:

At what age did you discover your love of Halloween?

I guess like most it was in grade school, dressing up and going out after dark. Walking house to house getting candy. Being chased by older kids in plastic masks.

What is your fondest Halloween memory?

Being out way past bedtime because it fell on a Saturday. My folks let me spend the night with a friend and we were out way late, walking and giggling like grade school girls do. Until my friends’ mom noticed we weren’t home yet. Oh boy, trouble! But it was worth it.

How do you celebrate Halloween?

Now, in my 60th year, everyday is Halloween. I wear skulls on my clothes. I paint and create things that I use to see only in October. I watch horror movies when I can find them on Netflix. Tim Burton is my modern favorite and any classic old horror movie is romantic to me.

When did you start creating in your medium and what training have you had?

The little shadow boxes I started doing a few years ago. I started collecting doll parts, charms, really anything that creeps people out, and putting them together. I’ve been painting for years. For a long time I was a closet painter, not very many people knew. No training unless you count a few art classes in high school.

What was the inspiration to create what you create and when did you know you wanted to create Halloween?

My inspiration, I guess is Tim burton; it’s ok to be dark, funny, and loving all at one time.

Please DO Feed the Ghosts

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Please DO Feed the Ghosts
 -By Debbi Decker

We are in the midst of a pretty dire season. We’ve only just made it past the dog days of summer and are thinking thoughts of fall, cooler weather, football, and our favorite of all holidays, Halloween. Don’t get too ahead yourself though. Right now you better be feeding the ghosts.

We are smack dab in the middle of a period that is recognized by the Buddhist tradition as the “Hungry Ghost Month”. Based upon the lunar calendar, this period usually starts in July. However, this year (2015) it started on August 14 and will end September 12.

Hungry Ghosts are believed to be the souls of the evil dead that reside in Hell, condemned, due to the sins they committed, to suffer eternity feeling hunger. Some souls will be hungry for wealth, some revenge, and some simply for food. Once a year, during the seventh lunar month, the gates of Hell are opened and these souls are released to roam the earth.

So, you are probably thinking that you have already missed half of the month and are saying “so what?” It is never too late to get on the right side of these spirits. Just as you ward your homes against the usual bad actors, you need to up the stakes during Hungry Ghost Month. Here are a few tips and things you can do to be sure that everyone is happy, both corporeal and incorporeal:

Burn fake money. Called “Hell Notes” or Joss paper. Do this in front of your home, your business, or anywhere else you want to protect. Never ever pick up any money you find on the ground during this period. That money belongs to the ghosts. Give money freely to charities and to the living during this time period.

Leave offerings of food and drink outside your home (be nice and use good plates and glassware). This should be left far enough away from your normal pathways so that you do not encounter any of the local wildlife that may investigate that tasty chicken leg. Never ever chase away any animals or bugs that might be near or on the offerings, and never touch the offerings after you have left them out for the spirits until the Hungry Ghost Month is over. Then you may clear away whatever is left. Do this respectfully, perhaps putting the remains in a compost pile. You may either destroy or ritually cleanse the plates and glassware and put all away for next year. I personally think it would be nice to have a small selection of pretty dinnerware and glassware to be used solely for rituals such as these.

Burn incense inside and outside the home. Rock salt sprinkled at doorways and on windowsills will keep the spirits from entering. Try not to conduct new important business or start new projects during this time. However, if a project or business venture was started before August 14, you can continue to move forward.

Never ever kill an unusual insect or bug inside your home during this time (roaches being the exception). It is believed that those unusual creepy crawlies could be reincarnations of your ancestors and they are simply stopping by to check things out and to say hello.

No whistling, going out alone at night, or hanging laundry out to dry. Any of these activities will bring attention to you and the spirits may decide they like you and move in. If that happens, you might have to have your home cleansed or exorcised by a professional. Wear a protective amulet during this time and have it cleansed when the period is over.

Following these tips will leave you unscathed, and the Hungry Ghosts will, with toothpicks in their mouths and money in their pockets, travel back to lounge on their couches in Hell to bet on a little after dinner football.

Sounds like Thanksgiving to me.

Debbi Decker is proprietor of Crazed Poppet Creations Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.

The Watchers in the Woods

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The Watchers in the Woods
 -By Debbi Decker

It was not always like this. She has traveled through many woods in many countries. They always held a sense of magic for her, a sacred place to wander and to worship. Not these woods. The forests behind her new home hides something she cannot identify.
It isn’t that the forest is a fear-filled place. Rather it is the feelings it gives her as she wanders amongst the trees.

Tall trees they are too, with a high canopy that lets in just enough light to allow her to see her surroundings. The light never brings detail to anything to give her a real sense of safety. Covered in leaves and moss, the forest floor offers no bracken or shrubbery to hide within. So, why is there this sense of being watched, being weighed, and always being found wanting?

The paths through the woods are barely there, trodden only by beasts of habit. She is never sure what beasts these are. There are watchers in the woods. The eyes she feels on her sometimes feel like the eyes of something “other”, something elemental and only found deep within the forest. Babbling brooks and moss filled nooks take on a different meaning here. It is a dare to drink from the streams, knowing the stories told of enchantments placed upon the flowing waters and the fates that befell those who took those dares and drank.

Blame it on all those fairy tales she thinks. Red Riding Hood’s wolf and that gingerbread cottage in the depths of the woods. Funny how both of those tales speak of cannibalism. Death by a supposedly trusted or respected person. Both stories feature women who are not as they seem. Makes one wonder if the Gods of the woods require such sacrifices. Surely not, she thinks, but one never really knows when it comes to the Gods and their needs.

How is it that she did not sense this when she first viewed the house and the land? Had she known, she would have continued her search for a new home. She must have been dazzled by whatever lives in the shadows there. It must want something from her.

She feels compelled at times to pass through the forest as though some force or lost soul calls to her, luring her into the deepest, shadiest, darkest parts. The forest uncovers her darker side and throws it mirror-like back in her face, forcing her to embrace those secret bits of her soul. The bits that recognize the demons hidden within those fairy tales that tell of old women wearing wolf’s clothing and homes with deep ovens. Whose big eyes see everything you do and whose appetites can devour you right down to the tiniest crumb of your very essence. These woods feed on those bits.

No, this particular forest is not her friend, no matter how Pagan her soul and no matter that the Gods she worships revere this place. This forest is not for her and she passes through it only when called and only as a last resort. She wants to keep her soul. This is not her place. The Gods will understand after all. She hopes. Because no none ever really knows when it comes to the Gods and their needs.

Photographs “Watching”, “Green Man”, “Forest Moon and “Portal” provided by Crazed Poppet Creations and are copyrighted images. To contact Debbi Decker for purchase of these prints visit her website.

Debbi Decker is proprietor of Crazed Poppet Creations Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.

THREE CROWS CALLING

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THREE CROWS CALLING
-By Debbi Decker

The crows were calling. One, two, three in a row in the tree. “Go away, we are not ready”. Selfish, really, when it is not us who has to be ready but rather the one they come for. We are never ready to let our loved ones leave.

The old ones tell you that three crows is a harbinger of death. The Morrigan has come. The Goddess of death and rebirth.

He stopped breathing several times and so the priest was called. Last rites spoken, holy water sprinkled. The rosary was placed around his neck. Some in the room believed, others did not. Still, we all hoped it would bring him peace.

They came the next night. Three shades passing through the room, invisible to our eyes but solid enough to block the glow of the small lights that were lit for his comfort. Three beings now standing guard and waiting. Sometimes they touched you. A sense of ice on your elbow. A gentle nudge against your leg. No way to tell who or what they were. Only that they were present and that he knew they were there. You could watch him whisper to them in his delirium and watch him listen to them as they spoke back.

I held his hand through most of his fight, not wanting him to ever feel alone. His was not an easy passing. He had much on his mind, worries for the rest of us, and things he wanted to say. Time laid heavy on us all as we watched him fight. No longer with us but not really gone from us either.

And at the end, I watched as he took his last breath and held him close as I said goodbye. The three crows calling in the early morning sun, while the three watchers stood around him to guide him on his way. I swear that on that morning I could feel him fly.

His journey here has ended but mine is just beginning. Because I now have to make sense of it all. Three crow calling, three shades passing. Who came to guide him on and who will come for me when my time comes? I trust that the essence of his soul has gone on to live in another life. My hope is that our souls will cross paths once again.

The meaning of three is that “all is given”, the past, present, and future. Birth, life, and death. The cycle has finished. And must begin again.

Debbi Decker is proprietor of Crazed Poppet Creations Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.

Holiday Spirits 2014

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With Winter comes the Holiday Spirit. Halloween Artist Bazaar has assembled a collection of spirits and ghost to spread good cheer for the holidays. As December progresses more spirits will be added to the display so visit again to see ghosts have passed through.

We wish you a grand Winter holiday filled with spirit and good cheer!

Twilight Faerie – Christmas Spirits framed print
twistedpixelstudio – The Revenants Children ornaments
Jynxx Designs – MR.Boo charm bracelet
Chaos In Color – Vorspookum
Art By Sarada- The Ghost in the Clock Chamber
Sauvage Raven Creations – Hary Houdini
Meatspider- Christmas Goul
Art for A Gloomy Day- Pretty Little Screams
Janis Logsdon Jewelry and Art- Steampunk Angel Charm
Ghost Colony – Gathering Snow
Tocsin Designs – Boo Broach
Ghostgap – Ghost Jewelry Set

What Time Is It?

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What Time Is It?
-By Debbi Decker

My mother passed recently and I had been spending time at her house, cleaning and gathering things to send to Goodwill and other charitable organizations. Towards the end of a 6-day stay, I was still trying to understand why the house felt so “clear”. It was not an after effect felt by me due to my mother’s death. I had noticed from the moment I walked in that the house felt empty. As if no one had ever lived there. I was confused, curious, and a bit unnerved. Houses imprint. Unless the place is brand spanking new, there are going to be elements that will resonate with everyone. I even commented to several family members and friends about the emptiness that I felt. My brother commented that he could feel it too but he felt that it would change.

The last full day I was there, I spent the day alone cleaning and sorting until late afternoon. I stepped out to get a bite to eat and to wind down from my busy day. After finishing my meal and checking the day’s e-mails, I decided to kick back in a very comfortable recliner in the living room and read until it was time to head to bed. Within a few minutes of reading, I began feeling a sense of heaviness in the atmosphere. As the evening wore on, and the sense of heaviness increased, I several times stop reading, looked around and tried to figure out exactly what I was feeling. The house was now occupied by someone or something other than me. I was not able to figure out who or what it was, but as the feeling got stronger I began to sense that it did not quite like me being in the house. It was not a hateful or hurtful feeling, but more of a “why are you here and you need to leave” kind of feeling.

At that point, I figured I would head to my room, read some more and then try to get some sleep. I noticed the digital clock at my bedside nightstand was not working. Thinking it was a battery issue, I went into my mother’s bedroom and rustled up some batteries and inserted them into the clock. The clock would light up, and then within 2 seconds the numbers would appear to melt from the top to the bottom and the clock would stop working. I fiddled with the clock trying to fix it for several minutes and it continued to react in the same manner. Assuming that the clock was broken, I went back into my mother’s bedroom to get a clock that was on her dresser. This clock, although battery operated, was not digital, had hour, minute, and second hands, and was running but the time was wrong. I reset the time and the clock stopped working. Again, I inserted fresh batteries, but nothing changed. That clock would not run either.

Now, I was two clocks down, with a house that was feeling creepier and heavier by the minute. I was frustrated and starting to get a bit edgy. Both clocks were put on my mother’s dresser in her room. I had to have a clock that worked though. It was important to me that night that I be able to see the time at any moment. Eventually, I found a small clock that was working, placed it on the nightstand beside my bed, and proceeded to read until my eyes were blurry. I was unable to get any sleep that night. It was a doze off, wake up, and repeat kind of night. I never did turn off the lights. And I was NOT leaving that room. For whatever reason, my room felt the least strange of all of the rooms in the house that night.

Morning came, and I managed a sleep-deprived stagger into the kitchen to make some coffee and get ready for the day. My sister was due early to assist with the sorting of mom’s clothes and further cleaning out of closets. Although the house felt a bit better than it had the night before, there was still a sense of occupancy and some heaviness.

My sister arrived and we began our day. Going back into mom’s bedroom to retrieve some items we needed, I happened to glance at my mother’s dresser. Both clocks were up and running perfectly, with the right time displayed on both! The heaviness I’d sensed the night before seemed now to be centralized in my mother’s bedroom. I quietly walked out and shut the door behind me.

I’m sure you can imagine all the swear words I was speaking under my breath. I let whatever or whoever it was that messed with those clocks the night before know that I was not amused. And I left a day earlier than originally planned and drove home.

Debbi Decker is proprietor of twistedpixelstudio Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.

Living On the Other Side.

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Living On the Other Side.
-By Debbi Decker

Have you ever had a dream that felt upon waking so real that you could swear it was happening in real life? Traveled in your dreams to a place that felt so natural and real that you knew where you were going and recognized the places you went in the dream?

I do this. All the time. And have done so since I was a small child. I have vivid memories of dreams that occur in locations that I can map out for you and give you directions of where to go in those places. When I visit these locations in my dreams, I usually enter them at the same “entrance”, although after arrival I may visit a different spots within these places. Just like visiting a well-loved place in real time, my dream locations are full of variable weather patterns, textures, scents, landscapes, tastes and people. I come off the “exit ramp” into my dream worlds and go on to visit just like I would in waking life.

Strange you say? It gets even stranger. What about having a dream friend that you seem to see on a regular basis and have continual adventures with them?

I have a special friend that visits me frequently in my dreams. Each dream is a different dream, but always there is a sense of knowing, of peaceful togetherness, and total happiness that we are together. I get that feeling not just from me but from my friend too. There is never a sexual element but there is a sense of completeness. I always wake up from these visits with a smile on my face and overflowing happiness that will last for days. I will not give a detailed scenario of any of these dreams here since really the details only have resonance and meaning to me and would not really bring you any greater level of understanding or belief.

How to explain this? I am no stranger to dreams. I have studied them since I was a young girl, and understand the concept of the who, what, and why of how they occur. I do dream interpretation for others who are curious about their dreams and what they could possibly mean. The science is not lost on me. What IS lost to me, however, is how these dreams are so real to the point that I can still, more than a year after one particular dream, still feel the weave of my friend’s shirt on my fingertips in my waking state.

Some people would say that these are manufactured scenarios that my subconscious mind has cobbled together in order to send a message to me. Some would say that I am a lonely individual who feels the need to have interaction with someone even if it only occurs in my dream state. I reject these explanations out of hand simply because I have investigated these possibilities many many times in an effort to explain this phenomena. After all, I am a Virgo. It is second nature to dig deep, analyze, and find answers to questions presented. I am also a fairly social person with various types of relationships in my life and am finally at a place in life where I am pretty much happy and content with myself and my lifestyle. Sure, there are things I would change, as anyone would. That’s why the caveat “pretty much”. If I were to be completely content, there would be no room for growth and new things. So “pretty much” is actually a great state to be in.

So, yes, I do not subscribe to the theories given above. The main reason is that after receiving a dream visit from my friend, upon waking there is no yearning, no sadness, no wishing for” what if?”. These visits are full of detail, sensory perceptions, and activity. Not all of these dreams are completely happy. Sometimes we have moments of sadness or difficulties just as anyone would in real life. There are no nightmares here. No strange beings, fantastical beasts or fantasy. Just living a normal life on the Other Side.

Given my personal spiritual beliefs, I believe that my friend is my soul mate who, throughout time, has been with me and will continue to be with me, no matter who I become or who my friend becomes. There is a deep love between us. We played together in my dreams as children, and grew up together. We share our feelings and the details of our lives on this side. Once, in a dream, I told my friend that I was old. My friend, said “No, you are not. You are you.”

Perhaps I am crazy. Who cares? After hearing that comment by my friend in that dream, I would not trade crazy for the world. Would you?

Debbi Decker is proprietor of twistedpixelstudio Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.

A Phantom Smell.

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A Phantom Smell.
-By Debbi Decker

I am an empath. I won’t bore you with all of details and descriptions of what that entails. You can find all kinds of information on the internet. Being an empath, I am very familiar with the idea of Clairempathy (the ability to feel emotions, illnesses, etc. that are not visual). I am also very familiar with Clairvoyance (the ability to perceive in my mind’s eye the past, present, and future). My mind has a tendency to connect with people and basically be on the same page with them without ever having a conversation with them. I can walk into a room and immediately feel what has just occurred without even looking at anyone in the room. If I am around negative people or sick people for long periods of time, I begin to feel ill. I have moments of vivid thoughts that turn out to be predictions of coming events. While unnerving to many, it’s a normal way of life for me. I’ve written before about what I call the “Clairs”. Clairempathy and Clairvoyance are the two that frequently happen to me. The others not so much.

My first visit to New Orleans post-Katrina was for Halloween, in October of 2006. While a full year had passed since that catastrophic event, there was still a great deal of anguish present in the atmosphere, some of it human, and some of it… “other”. You could feel the stress of the residents and workers in the Quarter. Hotels were understaffed as were most restaurants, and the seafood industry was still in a flux. I spent a great deal of time taking pictures in the Quarter, and in the cemeteries just outside of the Quarter. Bus and cable car service to the Garden District or to the Canal Street cemeteries on the far outskirts of the City were still not in operation. The Quarter was safe. The rest of New Orleans was not. Case in point. My hotel was housing some of the private security teams that went out each day to the various Wards to stand guard and to prevent looting and other nefarious activities. Picture a hotel full of men garbed in black, carrying an array of weapons. Think Swat teams.

It was easy enough during the days to keep myself from being overwhelmed (Clairempathy) with the anguish and stress that the others around me were feeling. I have to do that on a daily basis anyway. Still, there was that subtle undertow of “other” that concerned me. Katrina had stirred something. And it was not a happy something. It had a darkness and sadness to it that I had never before experienced in New Orleans, though it is well known that the area is steeped in dark history, bloodshed, crimes, and natural disasters. Sunset during that visit brought an extreme sense of urgency. I had to get indoors. Whatever I was feeling was not good. The Quarter has always been a fairly safe place to roam and I have done so at all hours of the night (something I would never attempt in my own city!). And remember, this was Halloween – a time when the veils and doorways are open. Lots of things travel back and forth in the ether during Halloween. So, while I was able to block the sensations during the day, the nights left me feeling raw and over exposed.

Halloween morning brought me down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. As I was reading the menu, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of fire. It had a reminiscent tang of a campfire or the scent of wood burning in an open space and very strong. Glancing around I found no visible smoke, no smoking restaurant patrons, and no fireplace in the room or anything else that could be giving off that odor. My waiter must have noticed my consternation and confusion because he came over to ask me if I was all right. I asked him if he could smell smoke. He did not and after confirming that there were no fireplaces in the vicinity, nor was there ever a smokehouse or a fire in the building, I let it go. Because at that point, my waiter was looking concerned. I went on to order and eat my breakfast, enveloped in the phantom smell of fire the entire time. I took note of the fact that upon leaving there was no smell of smoke outside of the restaurant, nor did I smell smoke when I ventured outdoors. This was my first experience of Clairscent or the ability to perceive phantom scents or odors.

My plans for that day were to visit St. Roch Cemetery and I was particularly excited to be seeing the chapel dedicated to St. Roch. Since the cemetery is located a few blocks outside of the French Quarter, and in an area affected by Katrina, I felt it was best to take a cab to my destination. The neighborhood itself was not safe, but there would be other tourists around, so I was not concerned about being in the cemetery alone (are you ever REALLY alone in a cemetery?)

My cabbie dropped me at the entrance and gave me his phone number to call when I was ready to leave. He expressed some concern about me being by myself, assured me that there would be a caretaker on the grounds, and wanted to be sure I was able to get back to the Quarter safely. I spent several hours taking pictures and sat in the chapel for a while mourning the fact that the altar and statue of St. Roch had been damaged by the floods from the broken levies. To call this chapel interesting is somewhat of an understatement. The walls are covered in offerings and Milagros left by patrons who have experienced miraculous healings in the chapel (some very recent healings too). The floor is made of bricks, all of which say “thanks” in English and French. St. Roch’s head rested in the chapel side room among the relics and Milagros, and his headless torso stood guard outside the chapel door.

Right across the street from the cemetery entrance stood a shotgun cottage tattooed with that unforgettable graffiti of numbers and dashes representing the number of dead found on the scene after Katrina and the date of search. Water lines clearly indicated the depth of the flood waters it had endured. It was difficult to get a photograph of the cottage due to the traffic passing constantly in front of it, blocking the view and I gave up trying. In retrospect I wish I HAD taken a picture, good or bad. The cottage also made me uncomfortable, though I cannot explain why. I suppose you could put it down to the graffiti on the wall but that explanation has never resonated with me. After all, I had spent the last year grieving deeply for my City and had seen too many pictures and news stories for it to have just been my reaction to the general leftover aura of Katrina.

Dinner that evening was a hurried affair. I had hoped to watch the Halloween parade in the Quarter but it would not start until after sunset and my intuition was to get indoors. Something just did not feel right and I was not interested in figuring out why. I would leave that to the local Voodiennes to suss out. Entering my room after dinner, I turned on the television which just happened to be tuned to a local news station giving a live update. There, on the screen, was the shotgun cottage that I had just viewed only hours ago, engulfed in flames, and surrounded by firefighters pouring water on the structure. I was stunned. It clicked. The smell of smoke….

To this day, I believe that the phantom smoke I was smelling was a precursor to that event. I did check back frequently to see if there was an update at to the cause of the fire, but I never learned anything. After all, the City had a lot on its hands and a follow up on an abandoned cottage burning to the ground was probably low on its list of priorities. If there was a message, I do not understand what it was. If there was a lesson, I have yet to figure it out. It could have all been coincidence but again, there is no resonance. I cannot explain what happened but that phantom smell of smoke and the subsequent burning of that cottage haunts me to this day. Perhaps that was where the feeling of darkness emanated. The house was grieving deeply, ready to say goodbye, and it chose me to deliver its eulogy.

Debbi Decker is proprietor of twistedpixelstudio Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.

Walpurgisnacht. It’s coming. The doors are opening. Are you ready?

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Walpurgisnacht. It’s coming. The doors are opening. Are you ready?
-By Debbi Decker

Directly opposite Halloween on the calendar, the night April 30 is the other day of the year when the barriers are down between our world and the other side. Things slip through, ghosts are walking, and those who are in the know are casting spells and divining the future. And much like Halloween, there are bonfires to drive away the evil, and in some countries, pranks are played on the unwary.

“Walpurgis” is the name of an 8th century German nun who preached against witchcraft and was later canonized as a saint in 779 AD. Because her saint day was near the time of an ancient Viking festival of spring, the two celebrations were combined into the Catholic calendar to create Walpurgisnacht (nacht is the German word for night).

Walpurgisnacht is celebrated in many European countries as the last night the witches could gather before spring/summer took hold on the land and the sun was at its most powerful. Masking, the wearing of talismans, and the use of Holy Water were some of the ways people used to ward off the evil that could cross over from the other side. Scarecrows (straw men) were also made, spells were cast upon them to draw in all the bad luck and evil from the previous year and then thrown in the bonfires to burn and hopefully bless the New Year going forward.

Because the doors to the other side are open, this is also a night to communicate with the spirits and seek guidance for the coming year. Sit outside under a tree during this night and you may hear the bells of the Faerie Queen as she rides by looking for mortals to take to her realm. Burn a special incense that has a floral scent and pass tokens of special meaning to you to cleanse them and make them powerful for the coming year. If Walpurgisnacht coincides with a full moon, take a bowl of water that has been blessed with the smoke of fire, and carry it outside to gather the moon’s rays. This powerful water can be bottled and used in rituals throughout the remainder of the year.

And, since the next morning is Beltane (May 1), once you have completed your Walpurgisnacht rituals, go out at dawn to gather the morning dew to wash your face. Your complexion will be magical and flawless for the remainder of the year!

Debbi Decker is proprietor of twistedpixelstudio Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.

Come to the Dark Side. We Have Yule.

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Come to the Dark Side. We Have Yule. -By Debbi Decker

Although the holiday season of Yule is generally associated with birth and light, the original festival as celebrated has a much darker side. Celebrated by Germanic peoples (the most familiar will be Norse and Anglo Saxon) in pre-Christian times, Yule not only encompassed feasting, reveling, and celebrations, it also featured death, sacrifice, and ghosts.

Yule was primarily a midwinter observance during the months of December and January, which, over time, was incorporated into the Christian celebration of Christmas. Some familiar practices that have come down from this observance include the Christmas ham (the Yule boar) and caroling. Some of the not so familiar Yule customs and beliefs are as follows.

With December 21st comes the shortest day of the year and along with that comes the Wild Hunt. It is believed that the Wild Hunt comprises demons or dead fairies, ghosts of former huntsman or the undead, called Drauger (possible zombie references here), raging across the sky in search of dark secrets and souls. It was considered most unlucky to see the Wild Hunt, and many lit fires or candles to keep the Wild Hunt at bay as the light would repel the dark and the spirits that reside there.

Christmas Eve as we know it was originally celebrated in January and was known as Mōdraniht, which is old English for Mothers-Night. This celebration references “dis” or spirits of fates. Sacrifices were made on this night and many practices centered around fertility rituals to ensure a bountiful new year to come as well as to celebrate the fertility of tribes.

Aspects of modern day Christmas festivities can be traced back to the reverence of the Norse god Odin. The ham we eat is a reference to the boar with an apple in its mouth. The Yule log is burned to revere the departed souls and also to keep the darker side with its ghosts and demons and ghouls at bay. And again, another aspect of the Yule log may be phallic in nature as the ashes were sprinkled in the fields to bring fertility to the coming harvest.

So, this Yule season, light your candles and Yule logs and keep the darkness and all it encompasses away. Pay tribute to your ancestors, and most importantly, if you hear a huntsman’s horn on Christmas night, remember to stay inside. If not, you might be carried off to the darker side of Yule.

Debbi Decker is proprietor of twistedpixelstudio Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.