Offering

A Lunar Eclipse is said to bring our emotions and subconscious to the surface. Do not be afraid now that you know that it is coming. I suggest this ritual. You will need:
Power Items: hat, shoes, clothing, artifacts, etc. Whatever you feel meets the qualifications of a Power Item.
Writing Utensils
Now, you will want to find a safe place to dawn your items and meditate. Let your emotions free and your subconscious run wild. When you are ready, plant your feet in the ground and center your breath. Gazing at the sky, let out your best howl. Let the cathartic flow your energy travel through your body. When you are finished, give yourself at least 15 minutes of time to free-write. I recommend performing this at night. No one is going to think too much of a little howling on a Friday Full Moon after all. Blessed be.

​-Noah Christie

A Thought on Cats


I tell you in the most truthful way I can.


I saw my cat see magic.


I lied beside her and watched the ceiling and she showed me what she saw.


Lights in the dark and a giant that watched over her.


It was touching.


Looking beyond the sight where my reality reaches its limits.


To join her in gazing.


Perhaps it is similar to how she feels when I look at a book and I see worlds beyond what she can.


Why is you cat staring at nothing?


Why is your human staring at nothing?
​

Noah Christie is a blogger, editor, poet, writer, artist, and a modern male witch. His favorite saying, "There is one immutable law of nature, change or die." 

I recently dreamt that I walked the long corridors of a warehouse storing the world’s treasures and magical objects: statues, tablets, chalices, and the like.

My eyes passed easily over the thousands of golden tools and trinkets, until suddenly they fell upon a stone statue of the divine mother. She vibrated with energy, as if daring me to be strong enough to pick her up.

I knew her power had survived longer than anything in the structure. I also knew she was she was asking me to allow her to accompany me on my next journey.

To take something from this place, you have to do something you’ve never done before, my friend's voice said next to me.

I stepped outside the old building to find that it sat on the edge of a seaside cliff. All around were people pushing themselves to the limit to try and earn their right to take a piece of sacred treasure. They skydived, cliff jumped, did acrobatics on top of each other, without hesitation or fear.

As I watched, I tied a thick rope around my waist and the other end to the building.

And, I jumped.

I swung wide around the structure, floating out over the hungry chaos of the people and the waves of the crystal blue sea.

I looked down to see that my clothes had been replaced with a baby pink ballgown and ballet slippers.

I felt graceful—a feeling I am not very familiar with in waking life. More than grace, I felt at peace, at ease in the risk I was taking to be worthy of the power that was calling upon me.

As creatives in this chaotic and hungry world, it feels increasingly difficult to find the balance between what we do in service of our souls, our duties, and the expectations placed upon us. I know for me personally, the challenge to find my footing in creativity over the last few months has brought on more existential crises than I care to admit.

The winter’s forced hibernation has allowed me to become steadfast in tending to the practical. I’ve found solace in the physical realm, warming the hearth, cooking meals, talking with friends, and solidifying work routines. The result is that I have found myself thriving professionally, getting swept up into roles and worlds I never thought possible.

But at what cost?

Many things have sparked over these long, dark months, but my ability to be aligned with my creativity is not one. I am sure I’m not alone in this—I know many of my fellow writers struggle to find their spark in the heaviness of winter.

Today is the Full Snow Moon in Leo opposite the Aquarius Sun. This Leo-Aquarius polarity asks us to take a good long look at how we are balancing all that is personal (Leo) and all that is impersonal (Aquarius).

As Café Astrology writes of this full moon:

The energy of the Leo Moon is creative self-expression and the boost to the individual ego that we receive through pleasure and romance, while the Aquarius Sun rules the group, more impersonal friendships, and objectivity. This Full Moon urges us to strike a balance between romance and friendship, and between expressing ourselves in personal and impersonal ways.

This moon asks us: 

• How can we express ourselves authentically in both personal and impersonal realms?
• How can we bring pleasure into duty, and duty into our pleasure?
• Where are places we have become too focused on the external/impersonal (for example, bending ourselves over backward to simply have the object, vs enjoying the process of earning it)? 

At first glance, the desires of the Leo side of this full moon might seem a little selfish, especially under the influence of the all-practical Aquarius Sun. But Leo is also incredibly loyal to its pride, meaning that this kind of self-care and delight allows Leo to be better equipped to be a part of and protect its community.

Make no mistake: pleasure is a political act. One that serves many purposes, but above all, allows us to step into ourselves authentically so that we can then be in better service to the world around us.

On the flip side, Aquarius reminds that not all things can be at the will of the ego. Like it or not, we do have duties to fulfill. We do have passions, people, pets, plants, and the like that rely on us to get shit done.

And there is so much we still need to get done.

But we can never forget that we, too, rely on ourselves. We can never forget that self-care and self-expression are duties to ourselves that cannot be buried under the others.

This might be truly uncomfortable for some to hear. This is far from the dogma we are taught and will likely require a major shift in habits.

But if we can do it, if we can make the leap in a fashion that makes us feel free, can you imagine what can be learned and transcended?

Can you imagine the power and creativity that is there waiting, if we simply make room for it within our hearts and practices?

Can you imagine the work that can be done together?
 
Do something you’ve never done before. 

​January Full Moon

Welcome to the other side of the crossroads to 2023! Last year around this time, collective.aporia offered a workshop called “Imbas Forosnai as Rest” that I led. Though we are a creative collective, my intention behind that workshop was to encourage participants (and myself) to take a cue from our northern hemisphere weather and hibernate artistically. 

‘Imbas forosnai’ is an Irish term that more or less translates to divine inspiration or poetic frenzy. Does that not seem like an enviable state? In the tradition of the bards and druids, I led our workshop in creating a ritual to bring us to that place of restful restlessness. Power naps have gotten me through the most difficult, time-consuming, and stressful parts of my life; I set an alarm for twenty minutes exactly and lay down, eyes closed. Sometimes I fall asleep, sometimes I don’t. Either way I have to spring out of bed, ready to go on to the next task. The workshop was meant to evoke that feeling, resting so purposefully that at the end, there is a restless, irrepressible need to create.

Given that this Wolf Moon is the micromoon (when the moon is furthest away from the earth), we take a page out of the moon’s book and pull away in a similar fashion. I invite you to think about how to rest purposefully as the bards partook in the imbas forosnai rituals. Before, the bards would fast, then chew (but not swallow!) the meat of an animal that is taboo to eat before sequestering themselves in a dark tent until the inspiration struck. We can create something that suits our needs with those elements. Here are some guiding questions for creating your ritual:

1. On fasting: What do you need to eliminate out of your life for a short amount of time? Are you being intentional about doing what you enjoy or are you participating in something that gives you a quick emotional fix? Consider abstaining as an experiment, how long can you go without? I am not an advocate of abstinence from joy and pleasure, but that pleasure can be amplified by waiting on occasion.
   
   
   
2. On meat: What do you tell yourself is unhealthy for you? Consider whether or not ‘unhealthy’ is an arbitrary label. Examine what you consider taboo and why. What a moderate indulgence can do for you? While you abstain from one thing, what fills the hole left behind? In other words: remember to feed yourself even as you are fasting. The bards specifically chewed and not swallowed, brought death close to them and dwelt in that liminal space. How close can you get to the lip of a chasm? What will you see at the bottom?
   
   
   
3. On rest: I mean really rest. This doesn’t necessarily mean sleeping, unless you’re in need. What feeds you? What relaxes you? Now is the time to pamper yourself to a point you’re uncomfortable and need to get up. This is how you stoke that creative fire, care for yourself until you cannot be cared for any longer. Maybe this means you lay in an empty room and nothing more. Because this is meant to be eventually disquieting rest, consider avoiding falling into a meditation practice. Crawl into the bog of the mind instead of trying to control or even observe where your thoughts lead. Letting your psyche buzz and be wild for a while. This is where that frenzied inspiration is born. After that, you can unravel. Enjoying that rest until it tangles is crucial to the success of the ritual.

An important note for this restless, frenzied creation on the other side: in my ideal world all our bodies, art, and labor will not be devoted to capitalism, despite our current need to make ends meet and care for our responsibilities. Though you may need this frenzied rest to continue your day job or finish a manuscript you’re hoping to publish, though this ritual may be a desperate attempt for control in a landscape of increasing need, please think about engaging in an act of private art. Maybe that art is small and ephemeral, a painting entirely of water, a poem you only recite aloud to yourself, or even making a snow sculpture that will not survive the season. If you have troubles doing things for yourself, as I often do, think of this act as an offering to that inspiration. Give the divine who provided that inspiration your thanks by giving your plenty. But I hope you can make that art just for you. It’s okay to be selfish. The ritual is meant to fill your cup first. 

February 1st is Imbolc; climb out of your poetic caves and take a walk to observe the changing earth in honor of Brighid. Return to the orbit of your life by having an Imbolc feast or building a fire! Make a celebration, as even the small milestones are worthy of joy. 

Please let us know how you craft your imbas forosnai rituals! We want to celebrate your blessed rest along with you.

​

Cheers fellow moonbaskers and stargazers,
Another solstice is almost upon us. My last offering was at Summer Solstice so it truly feels like I have come full circle to offer this musing just days ahead of the Winter Solstice.


This month’s moon, the Cold Moon, is the last full moon of the modern calendar year. The moon heralding winter. This moon is piercing in its clarity in the velvety night sky and thin air, when frost glitters on bare branches and snow blankets the ground. Its light, like an icicle, is clear to silver white, and invokes that slight freezing burning sensation when you hold ice in your bare hand for too long. It’s beautiful but even bundled head to toe it’s hard to gaze upon it for long. These few moments in the breath stealing night are worth it, not only for this moon but for the restoring wave of warmth as you leave it to shine and return indoors.


Nature has gone quiet but inside my home, the short days are buzzing with energy as I clean and decorate to welcome friends and family for Yule and holiday celebrations. In stark contrast to summer, where keeping my guests cool, relaxed, and refreshed is my priority; I turn inward to my home and my hearth spaces in the wintertime to craft a place of comfort, warmth, and refuge for when loved ones brave the moonlit roads in icy weather for a visit.


My hearth and kitchen provide not only practical warmth but are a source of nourishment essential to life. The wood burning fireplace is a well-loved centerpiece. It anchors the room and plays its part in keeping the household harmonious. It’s a place to thaw tired bones and the meeting point for important events and discussions. While we do not cook our meals over its flames, I tend it lovingly with wood, kindling and pinecones gathered and dried in the warmer seasons. I also carry my hearth into the kitchen by lighting a candle from its blaze. Resting the candle on the stove allows the fire’s bright energy to charge my daily meals and household tasks. I take extra care in preparing both spaces during the winter. I place intentions for health and nourishment when I clean, or bake, light candles and build and bank the fire on particularly cold days and nights. In celebration of Yule, I prepare special meals and hot drinks for my guests to carry heat and love through my home and keep the cold dark at bay.


I invite you to embrace the warmth in your space, whether through a large fireplace or a small apartment kitchenette; give it a little extra attention and welcome your loved ones in for a simmering cocktail and a cozy catch up as you gaze at the moon through the window safe in the comfort of a heavy blanket.


Mulled Cider for Yule & Solstice


Ingredients:
1.5 liters of dry cider (I recommend Aspall from the UK or your local cidery)
400ml fresh pressed apple juice
100ml Calvados apple brandy
75g brown sugar
4-6 whole cloves
2 cinnamon sticks
3-5 whole star anise
One orange sliced into wheels (hold aside half of the slices for garnish)


Preparation:
In your favorite simmering pot combine cider, apple juice and sugar and gently bring to a simmer to melt the sugar and warm the liquids. I use my favorite copper pot for its love and energy transference properties. When steam gently starts to rise, add all of the spices infusing them with intentions for protection from the elements and healing warmth. Gently drop in the full orange wheels along with your wishes of friendship and love for your guests about to arrive. Let the pot return to a simmer, then reduce to low heat. Add brandy with a light stir and keep on low for 20-30 min to keep warm and mull the flavors. Your home will fill with a spicy tart scent unmistakable with winter. Time this last warming cycle to finish just after your guests arrive and have shed their boots, coats, and hats. Encourage them to find a cozy seat or perch in or near the kitchen and ladle the cider into your favorite mugs, garnish with an orange slice. Serve with not only to warm your guests’ hands and bodies, but to encourage free flowing conversation to warm your souls.

Lindsey Higo is a spirited hostess living in Denver, Colorado, who spends time puttering around her kitchen and patio garden, reading on a dark and stormy night (or any night for that matter) and entertaining. Her cocktail crafting skills have been honed through years of trial and error and “here take a sip of this” is a key step in her creative process. When inspiration strikes you can find recipes and her favorite haunts on her Instagram @cocktail_curious. She is also an active member of the Japanese Tea community in Colorado where she practices the spirit of boundless guest hospitality and mindfulness in the principle of “ichi-go, ichi-e”/“one chance, meeting” taking it beyond the contemplative Tea space and into her home and community.

Life-Cycle
​
The main theme of the poem is “the life cycle.” Everything which is born eventually dies, and the cycle starts again.

The End.                                                                                              The Beginning.
The last heart beat.                                                                          The first budding leaf.
The storied skin.                                                                               The fresh clean slate.
The fruit.                                                                                             The sowing.
​
The Sweet relief.                                                                              The hopeful beginning.  

Arts Night Creative Non-Fiction

Terms – What is Creative Non-Fiction?

Creative nonfiction (also known as literary nonfiction or narrative nonfiction or literary journalism or verfabula) is a genre of writing that uses literary styles and techniques to create factually accurate narratives. Creative nonfiction contrasts with other nonfiction, such as academic or technical writing or journalism, which are also rooted in accurate fact though not written to entertain based on prose style. Many writers view creative nonfiction as overlapping with the essay. Creative nonfiction is true stories, well told. If novels are fiction and poems are, well, poetry, then what are memoirs? - credit the internet. I forget what I changed.

Tell a story well. What happened within the last week?

Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to tell when I'm getting older. It was about a week ago from this writing that I was sitting in the waiting room of my Dermatologist people. I was always taught to arrive early for appointments. It's polite. It also gives you the chance to sit and notice things. At that time I was noticing that there are two kinds of people who go into a dermatologist's office. There are the young, suffering from puberty, and there are the old, suffering from being old. I was there for eczema on my shoulders. Eczema is when your skin decides that it hates everything and wants everyone to know it. Another thing you notice about a dermatologist's office that everyone exudes an air of shame. There's something special about skin diseases. They're hard to hide. Maybe each of us have some primal fear of being rejected from the tribe, of being unclean in their eyes. Upon receiving a prescription for some other creme that I was quit certain would never make my skin find happiness, I walked the sterile halls of the hospital. Then descended the sterile empty stairs. I found my party sitting by a nameless statue in the courtyard. It's hand was extended toward the sky behind the hospital. Then we left and navigated the abomination of city planning that was downtown Anderson. Anderson home of my Alma Matter. Another armpit of human social failure.  

​October 2022 Full Moon offering for Collective Aporia

DOUBLE BACK—DOUBLE MOON

The sensation of doubling back—to go back the way one has come—to dislodge what we’re stuck
on—what if we could go back in our memories, to our past selves, and offer insight from our
present?—what if we double back in order to go forward—time loop—queero helix—there will be
two successive evenings to see the full moon—double moon—where we will be able to see it rising
from the east at dusk

\\

I go back to the memory of my teenage self under a body—touch her shoulder—rise her up to stand
next to me, looking at the place she had just been

\\

You have got to goad yourself toward a becoming that is in accordance with what you are innate. You have
got to sometimes become the medicine you want to take.
―Ariana Reines, The Cow

\\

How are we supposed to imagine four Octobers from now?

\\

Hunter’s moon—never did care for the skull boil—brains falling out at the hand of a coat
hanger—bubbling bleach water—deer scraps rolled in chicken wire, hanging it for the birds to
peck—the skull mount does look good above the garage though

\\

Everyday the moths come—the little sheds—tiny gray-brown hairs—this is the undercurrent of our
timeline—releasing what we thought would anchor us—severing the palatable—how we thought
our--
this thought was interrupted by a chickadee—who braves harsh winters, feasts on bloody suet
this was four Octobers ago

\\

We buy bed frames to sleep closer to heaven—I say how do you have acrylics—they say you have to go
really slow, you should try them—it's not conducive to my lifestyle I say as if I’m fucking all the time

\\

Resurrection of ourselves—FOR THE FIRST TIME, AGAIN
FOR THE FIRST TIME, AGAIN

THIS IS A RECLAMATION
LOOP IN

LOOP IN

\\

Turn towards it—to the salt of life—instinctual body—I trace you with ice—lick—throw the cube
to the floor to melt—repeat me—you—again—back into the images of the dark

\\

We pull our own equinoxes

\\

Within this dislodgement, doubling back does not hold the promise of resolution but we enter
regardless—we situate ourselves—we make a landing place for solidarity, for showing
entanglements and ultimately, we go back for ourselves

Maura M. Modeya is a poet & performer. She’s the author of Only Interested in Everything, a poetry chapbook published by Meekling Press. Before heading west, she lived in Chicago where she focused on live performance, as well as producing oddity and storytelling shows. Her work includes themes of sapphic identity, queer westerns, eco-feminism, and the tension that emerges from using 90s/early 00s nostalgia as context for the present. The queer cowb0y as archetype is kind of everything to her and she thinks there is something telling about the first CD someone bought. Let her know yours if you see her. TLC’s CrazySexyCool was her first, purchased at a pawn shop. She holds an MFA in writing and poetics from Naropa University in Boulder, CO where she currently teaches. Find more recent projects at mauramm.com

​ Bio
Shawnie Hamer (she/her) was born in the heat & dust of Bakersfield, CA. Her first book, the stove is off at home (Spuyten Duyvil, 2018) is an experimental art & poetry book curated through a community ritual focused on the identification & exorcism of trauma. Hamer is the founder of collective.aporia, an international arts collective offering monthly workshops & *apo-press. Her latest manuscript, The Rage That Raised Us (formerly The Rage That Raised Them) was a finalist in the 2021 Essay Press Book Content, judged by Ronaldo Wilson. She proudly received her MFA from the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics at Naropa University where she was able to befriend the most inspiring group of artists she's ever met. She lives in France.

​Q&A: 
What inspired you to manifest Collective Aporia?
 
Collective.aporia was manifested from a deep longing for community. In 2018, I was traveling by myself around Europe. I purchased a one-way ticket and was planning to mosey my way around from country to country, working freelance gigs and odd jobs for room and board until the money ran out.
 
The year before, I had graduated from the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics at Naropa University. It was there that I had been lucky to find and establish an incredible writing community (a family of writers, really) that had opened my eyes to the inspiration and influence of a collective. In fact, my entire writing process had shifted because of it. What had previously been a somewhat lonely act was now infused and supported by the love and insight of my friends/teachers.
 
Needless to say, I was missing this dearly on the road. I wished they were with me. And what’s more, I was meeting other creatives on my trip that I wished I could introduce to my community back home.
 
On New Year’s Eve 2018, I stood outside the home of an artist I was staying with in Kendal, United Kingdom, drinking cheap champagne, and a question came to me: how can I create a space for community and creativity that can be accessed by everyone at every time?
 
The next morning, I began writing down every idea I could think about it. What it would look like, how it would exist in the world. When I went back to visit Colorado that following spring, I shared the idea with Sarah Richards Graba, Swanee Astrid, and Vera Linder over cocktails in Swanee’s apartment. It was from there that we began solidifying the dream together.
 
 
What Draws you to poetry, writing, and the arts?

I view this question through the lens of two roles: writer and collective member. They are not separate by any means, but an oscillation of energy that has greatly impacted my life.
 
As a writer, really for as long as I could remember, I have been drawn to writing and reading because of its ability to recreate the world. In the pages of a text, we can reimagine both the mundane and the fantastic.
 
As a little girl, I would create forts protected by teddy bears and books, where I would go to explore both the light and dark aspects of life in the pages of my journal. It was at once a safe place (maybe the safest) while also incredibly vulnerable—a practice in taking a leap into the unchartered rooms of imagination.
 
When I finally grew enough to leave my fort, and then leave my hometown, I began to fully realize that the intentions that creatives can have for this kind of exploration, as well as the influence it can hold on society/a person’s life, was powerful. Maybe the most powerful and consistent force throughout history. I examined how creatives could bend and break the rules and edges that I was banging my head against. How they could even expand borders and boundaries of the self.
 
Now, as a JKS grad, I am obviously very influenced by Anne Waldman and the work she has done over her incredible life. Not only has she amassed an outstanding library of work, but at every step along the way, she has created radical and safe spaces for her writing communities. She has truly been in service to poetry for over 60 years.
 
It is this service that draws me to my work in the collective and the writing that ensues. I want to create texts and spaces that create homes. Places for joy, growth, and grief. Spaces for connection and empathy.
 
I want to give back to poetry and the love it’s given me. It’s this love, this radical love, that will always keep me coming back.
 
Do you have any tips for others that want to do what you do?
 
The first (and most important) is to find your people! Collective.aporia would not have been and would not be without the steadfast volunteers and friends that dedicate their time and care to it. Find the people who believe in your vision, that are not afraid to challenge and expand it, and that want to see it manifest with the same level of excitement as you do.
 
The second is to try to not do everything at once. It’s a sure-fire way to burnout, but it’s also really enticing. Find the focus of your dream and work diligently on that. Once you’re established, then you can begin expanding your operations.
 
Lastly, don’t get so caught up in your service that you let your own creative practices go to the wayside. It is so easy to do; I’ve done it and I’ve seen so many others do it, too. You must fill your own cup before you can fill anyone else’s. Not only is a form of self-care, but it’s also important to remember that being a collective member requires creativity. If that well is dry, your participation, and therefore the organization itself, will suffer.

Devotion Sequence
​
I. Primary Desire

In the beginning it was just this: all the known things we can no longer see. That you no longer know. The moment the ice breaks. The water freezes. The smell of spices on the stove.

I come to you now, and I’ve all but forgotten. The first inclining towards divine, loving you.

As I prepared to leave, the ghosts descended. To help me pack my belongings, nothing actually mine. The dusty altar candles, the string of orange lights, the books stacked one by one. The home I created at once sacred infestation:

                                         A queue of spirits knocking on the door.
                                         An army of mice under the sink.
                                         The neighbor with the shotgun under my feet.

It was here I told you of my dreams. The way the sheets moved under and around our bodies. The ancestor with the tendency to push her hands down on my chest, to see, she said. You have to stay here to see.

So, I left.

Sold my 28 years piece by piece in the front yard. To strangers with noisy minivans and sweaty pits. Much to the neighbors’ chagrin. What is it about travelers that we find so intriguing, untrustworthy? Abandoning the address, the daily routine, must mean something is amiss.

It’s true, something’s not right. The wall you helped me build is crumbling, and I can do nothing to fortify the structure.

I’ve also grown fond of hallucinating, in red wine and cigarette haze. Watching the faeries. Playing Sound & Color on repeat as I see the future appear in front of me, through the pines. The Eiffel Tower, your coming. The hot lightness of my body in the claw foot tub or the Mediterranean Sea.

You don’t believe me, but I didn’t flee. I didn’t realize it at the time. No, back then when we sat on benches and snowy bar patios, I told you I was desperate to escape. The 12-hour work days, pouring drinks and teaching APA to community college warriors. The way your eyes changed when you mentioned her name. The feeling—no, the knowing—that this city, every city, is just out of reach.

All the things you knew deeply when you first arrived aren’t known here, the past life reader explains when I ask about love.

Here’s what I know for sure:

I learned the most about God when I defied the people who guarded the gates. Breached the baptismal pool, wet and heavy. Imagined the faces—the ones not readily available in such a dusty town. The ones in foreign lands, who called to God differently. Or not at all. And when I called upon the broken stewards outside of the city limits, I opened to the possibility. The holiness of the underbelly. God is not stationary, like the pronunciation of a word. But rather is people, which is to say, never still. A movement. To surrender to the unknown often means saying goodbye. 

Here’s what I know for sure: To find God travel was to find the ability to love you.