by Crimethinc. Workers' Collective
Available in 284 free installments
Owner:
realizing profound self-confidence; experiencing a oneness with surroundings; going
without sleep for extended periods with no loss of vitahty; executing movements beyond
Spell Casting ^^^^ normal abiHties; feelings of lightness or heaviness; out-of-body experiences; extraor-
504 dinary pleasure in movement; correcting a machine's malfunction by mental intention;
leaving a strong mood in a room; promoting or inhibiting plant growth in an extraordinary fashion; drawing a person into or out of your Hfe without obvious communication; the conscious mind yielding control to the instincts in a dangerous situation.
Step y. Chronicle and share stories of magic. Create stories that enshrine within your personal mythology events in which hidden power was evoked and awe was experienced. Recognizing and recording these moments will sensitize you to them and enable you to derive strength from them. One must be constantly sovring hfe with language that allows magic to be recognized and named. If such language is not developed, potentially powerful events are exiled to the realm of siUy or, worse, normal experiences; with language that provides for them, such events can not only be discerned but also deciphered and even precipitated.
Step 4; Mix your expanded sense of what is possible with a particular desire. Express those together in a process that you have invented.
Universe had become such a home for us that we felt free and faithful. Faithful that tomorrow and tomorrow's tomorrow would supply as much nourishment and adventure to our dan of gatherers as yesterday and yesterday's yesterday. And it did.
On that day we reclined in the grass near the garbage can that played our host, and felt fear slipping away It was the age-old fear that if we didn't work we would starve to death or go insane, and it seeped out of us into the warm grass beneath. And that lead-heavy effluvia was silently replaced by the serene notion that Universe meant to take care of us.
Universe made good on this promise that very afternoon when we noticed an art gallery reception with cake and wine. We stayed and stayed and found that we could; have the uneaten vegetable tray and the picked-over plate of cheese. Feeling bold and beloved, we imagined that Universe might like to give us a refrigerator that we could use to store
Account
A true story about spell casting (not to mention the sheer profligacy of our society)
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our bounty. We discussed the idea and decided to make a formal request. We would use the same magical language of symbols and signs that Universe used to speak to us.
So humbly, and at first tentatively we began a practice of visualization. Every day each of us took time to imagine the refrigerator of our dreams. We agreed that it was a white refrigerator with two doors: one a freezer, the other a refrigerator proper with shelves and drawers. We envisioned our refrigerator as smallish and nicely styled with a chrome handle and perhaps an insignia on its enameled metal face.
But soon we began to worry that our visions might not be enough. After all, Universe was rarely subtle in its giving. So we began to draw our little refrigerator on our skin. We invented refrigerator movements and our movements became refrigerator dances: we danced our refrigerator. We made up refrigerator sounds and our sounds became refrigerator songs: we sang our refrigerator. Feeling proud of our game we made graffiti like cave paintings. In our paintings, little people, successfid in their hunt, dragged home refrigerators by their cords: we laughed our refrigerator.
And so our senses would not become dull, so our festivities would not drown out the very Universe to which we were appealing, we walked the mazes of the town, we kept our eyes sharp and our noses to the wind.
It was on the third day that our festivities were interrupted by our object. It was a white refrigerator with two doors: one a freezer, the other a refrigerator proper with shelves and drawers. Our refrigerator was smallish and nicely styled with a chrome handle and a little insignia upon the enameled metal of its face. After an hour of scrubbing, a shine appeared on its surface.
That was long ago. Today our refrigerator is comfortable in the corner of our room, its shelves piled high with subsequent offerings, its doors covered with drawings and pictures.
Squatting
