Tag Archives: horror

Fingers II

9 Apr

IMG_0066 copy-s

This time it is not about a surreal dream and also not about the fennel. But it is about another plant’s “fingers”. In folklore the male fern’s “hand” is a lucky charm, meant to bestow fortunes and the power over the souls of the dead to it’s owner. In order to obtain it, the sorcerer must harvest the male fern’s root on the Eve of St. John. Then he must roast the root in the fire. The hand is made in such manner as to bind five strands of the fronds together: the root base of the stem is left attached and the rest of the frond’s foliage is removed. The result resembles a “hand”, with tendons (hairy stems) and fingers (stipe bases). Frankly, I never made such “hand” in this manner. But I’ve gathered plenty of male fern roots and had the most magical experiences granted through working with these roots in various ways, always discovering new aspects to this wondrous plant. Above is another version of this “lucky hand”, formed by the stipe bases and a single frond.

Btw., the stipe bases of the male fern’s fronds are green and spongy towards the center, whereas as the outer (old) parts turn black and rot. So if you were to use the root, make sure you actually use the parts that still have juices in them. Below is a close-up of how that should look:

IMG_0081 copy-s

Male Fern stipe base, light green in color and of a spongy texture

IMG_20160408_153200 copy

Male fern root: in the bowl are the vital parts, to the left are the rotten parts

More about the male fern

Male fern inspired art:

Dead Man's Eve, 2010

“Dead Man’s Eve”, pencil drawing, 2010

Wurmfarn Siegel

Male Fern plant sigil, 2010

 

Advertisement

Fingers

5 Apr

I woke up many times last night. The documentary I had watched about the Panama papers, followed me into sleep and seemed to occupy my mind for no good reason, other than that I felt betrayed and somehow sharing into the fears and worries of those people that risk their life and well-being for exposing the truth. So my sleep was already restless and my emotional state was not, what one would consider “sunny”. I got some rest after all, but the dream that woke me up again, was one of the strangest things I’ve ever experienced… I say experienced, because in dream it’s always real.

I am inside a foreign room. Beside me on the table, is standing one of those plastic bowls, inside of which I usually gather my herb harvest. I am holding a pair of scissors and one by one, I am chopping off fingers from a hand, and placing them inside the bowl. It occurs to be the most natural thing to do. The hand, it turns out, is my own. I have grown it, similar to how the comic character Deadpool is able to regenerate hands and other body parts. So, I am standing there, chopping off fingers from my own, self-grown hands, of which there are about half a dozen, and collecting the fingers inside the bowl. When I am out of hands, I continue cutting the fingers of my left hand – the one that’s still attached to my arm and body! I sense no pain, as I cut through the knuckle joints and observe myself doing this with a scientific sort of fascination. The fingers don’t bleed as I cut through them. Instead there is immediately skin overgrowing the cut off part. I wonder if or when the fingers will grow back on my hand. When I realize that this may take some time or not happen at all, I stop and begin to worry. What have I done? I look at my hand: of the index and ring finger are only stumps left. In this moment my mother enters the room. Ashamed I hide my hand from her. But at the table is still standing the bowl full of fingers. Some of them are dirty, as if they had just been digging in soil. Worried, that she may see the bowl any second, I wake up.

The first thing I do, is check my hands and fingers upon waking. They are still there. Then I remember, how I had been chopping off and through the hollow stalks of fennel plants, left from last year. I had been cutting them right at the joint, where once the leaves and sheath grew out of the stem. It was already getting dark and with the sun gone, the temperatures went down as well. But I was standing beside the compost, hypnotized, cutting one fennel stalk after another, until I was done with all. I placed the stem segments inside plastic bowls, just like the one in my dream, and then put them up for drying beside my bed. My plan is to fill the hollow stems with a special incense blend for inducing vision and second sight. Well, it looks like I just have been given but a taste of their potency.