Art Witch Desk covered in Art Supplies and Journals

Hello creative alchemists,

As the new moon rises and we step into October’s shifting tides, I welcome you into this month’s Art Witch Journal. This is our gathering place, a moment to pause, breathe, and align with the unseen threads that weave through art, magic, and daily life.

This season brings both balance and intensity: eclipses, equinox energy, super moons, and the steady hum of transformation beneath it all. It feels like standing at a threshold, one foot in shadow and one in light, asked to trust the flow while holding close what truly matters.

Wherever you are reading this in your studio, curled up with a cuppa, or catching a quiet moment between the busyness of life, may these words offer reflection, nourishment, and inspiration for your own practice.

Grab a cuppa and settle in.

Cuppa & Catch Up - Personal Reflections, Community Connections, and Studio Life

This past month has been a challenging one for me personally. I’ve been navigating a flare-up of symptoms that has kept me away from the studio, making it hard to show up for my own practice and live up to the routines I share here. Some days, simply being present with my art has felt like too much, and that has been a tough space to sit with.

On the practical side, I’ve finally managed to arrange community transport to get me to and from appointments in my wheelchair. The logistics have been tricky, but I’m hopeful that this will make life a little smoother going forward.

One bright spot has been the Gardening sessions at our Community Garden. These have been nourishing in more ways than one, feeding both my soul and my diet. There’s something deeply grounding about wheeling down to pick fresh produce and bringing it back to my apartment to cook on the spot. The chance to connect with other residents has been equally precious. Living with a disability and chronic health issues can be isolating, so this sense of community has been incredibly important.

I’ve also been planning a piece for the Merri-bek Summer Show. The theme is Love in Crisis. I had hoped to submit my Kintsugi of the Soul collection, but works must have been completed in 2025, so I’m now creating something entirely new. Watch this space!

I’m hoping to attend an Art Workshop at the local community house this week as well. Like the gardening group, it’s a space where I can connect with others, share ideas, and feel that sense of creative community that is so important. It’s one of the benefits of living in Women’s Housing; they recognise the value of community and connection.

On a more personal note, I had the joy of attending my granddaughter’s school play last week. It had been a while since I’d spent time with them, and it was wonderful to share in the fun and excitement of the production. With school holidays now underway, I’m looking forward to spending a couple more days with them later this week.

Art Witch Musings – Chapter Six

Navigating the Unseen: Symbols, Dreamwork, and Creative Alchemy

Even in months when the studio feels far away, the unseen currents of creativity are still flowing. Beneath the surface of everyday life, beneath the brushstrokes and the clay, the threads of the unseen hum steadily, insistently. They are currents older than time, older than thought, older than words. They move in cycles, in symbols, in the cadence of dreams, and in the alchemy of transformation. To step into them is to step sideways from the ordinary world and into a liminal rhythm where intuition, instinct, and insight are the only guides.

For me, these currents are both map and companion. Theosophy, the occult, and esoteric study are not dusty relics of the past, they are languages of connection, tools for navigating the invisible. They are lenses that allow me to read the patterns of the world and the symbols hidden within it. Although, I do not follow tradition blindly. I do not worship text over intuition, nor ritual over revelation. I enter these currents as a conversation: I bring my body, my energy, my attention, and I ask questions. Answers come not in lectures or words, but in images that appear in dreams, in repeated shapes, in subtle shifts of energy or light, in the pull of colour or texture.

Symbols are the language through which my work listens and speaks. A spiral scratched into clay, a streak of gold across a page, a thread twisted through fabric, they are both vessel and key. They hold memory, intention, and magic. I pay attention to how symbols appear, how they echo across media, across time, across the liminal spaces where my art breathes. In this way, my work becomes a spell of observation, a meditation, a translation of the unseen into form.

Dream work is central to this practice. Dreams do not simply inspire; they instruct. They guide the rhythm of the studio, the selection of materials, the shape of a piece yet unborn. Archetypes rise from the unconscious, bringing both comfort and challenge, and I engage with them as I would with a trusted companion. I transcribe, sketch, and mark their presence. I honour their messages by letting them shape the work without forcing clarity, without insisting on literal interpretation.

Spiritual alchemy informs every aspect of my process. Not the sort that promises gold or power in the worldly sense, but the inner alchemy of transformation, the transmutation of pain into image, fatigue into texture, isolation into communion. I work in stages of dissolution and recombination, layering and un-layering, allowing materials to speak their own truths. My studio is the alchemist’s lab; my hands, the instruments; my attention, the fire that transforms raw matter into something charged with meaning.

The sacred feminine flows through this practice as both lineage and guiding principle. I trace the unrecorded histories of women who practiced magic in secret, who wove spells into daily life, who left traces in textiles, herbals, and symbols. I do not attempt to reconstruct them; instead, I commune with their echoes, threading their presence into my work. It emerges in texture, in repetition, in rhythm. It emerges in the reverence with which I approach each material, each mark, each gesture.

Magic, in my practice, is inseparable from politics. To wield knowledge, to honour unseen forces, to embody a form of wisdom that refuses erasure, this is resistance. Every mark I make is a declaration that the unseen matters, that women’s voices matter, that disability, intuition, and devotion are not optional; they are radical. The magic of art is a reclamation of agency, a quiet revolution enacted in studio corners and liminal spaces.

Symbols, alchemy, and dreamwork converge to create pieces that are both talisman and testimony. Each work carries residue of the unseen currents, the layered conversations between self and other, visible and invisible, spirit and matter. A piece is never merely a painting or sculpture; it is a spell cast in devotion to insight, transformation, and the honouring of thresholds. It is a record of time spent listening, noticing, and translating.

Yet, even as the work takes form, the process continues. The studio is never silent. The currents keep moving. The symbols speak anew with every glance, every touch. I am always reading, always attuning, always engaged in the slow, recursive dance that is my practice.

This chapter of work, this weaving of occult, spiritual, and symbolic threads, is not an end, nor a revelation fully realised. It is a living continuum, a meditation, a conversation with forces that do not rush. It is devotion embodied, patience enshrined, and the subtle, profound acknowledgment that art, at its most potent, is not separate from life, magic, or the sacred.

To work in this way is to stand at a threshold. To be both maker and medium. To trust that the unseen will inform the seen, and that the act of creation itself is a spell that shapes not only the work but the artist, and perhaps, in some small way, the world around them.

Art Witch Desk with Oracle Cards, Journal and Cuppa

Artist of the Season – Faith Ringgold

Story Quilts, Resistance, and the Power of Visual Narrative

This season I’m honouring the extraordinary Libran artist, author, and activist Faith Ringgold (1930–2024). Born and raised in Harlem, New York, Ringgold grew up surrounded by creativity, her mother was a fashion designer, her father a storyteller and it was in this environment that her lifelong relationship with fabric, colour, and narrative first began. She went on to study art and education at City College of New York, later teaching while developing a practice that would weave together painting, quilting, sculpture, performance, and writing.

Ringgold’s work is uncompromising in its honesty and deeply generous in its vision. Her early series, The American People (1963–67), painted at the height of the civil rights movement, reflects directly on racial violence, social upheaval, and the fight for equality. Perhaps the most famous piece from this series, American People #20: Die (1967), is a searing portrayal of chaos, grief, and resilience. It remains one of the most striking works of the 20th century, a raw and urgent call to witness.

From the 1980s onwards, Ringgold turned increasingly to her now-iconic story quilts. Works like Tar Beach (1988) blend painting, pieced fabric, and hand-written text to tell stories of Black family life, dreams, and freedom. Quilting, historically dismissed as “women’s work”, became a radical medium in her hands, transforming domestic craft into political and spiritual art. These quilts are visual talismans, carrying both ancestral memory and imaginative flight. Tar Beach was later adapted into a children’s book, ensuring her vision could be shared across generations.

Her creative reach didn’t stop there. Ringgold wrote children’s books such as Aunt Harriet’s Underground Railroad in the Sky and My Dream of Martin Luther King, as well as her memoir, We Flew Over the Bridge. Across every form she touched, the same threads run through resistance, storytelling, visibility, and transformation.

For me, what makes Ringgold so resonant this season is how her art stands at the threshold of the visible and invisible. She gave form to what was often silenced or unseen, the lived experiences of Black women, the resilience of communities, the power of dreams. Her quilts and paintings blur the boundaries between art and craft, personal and political, memory and imagination. They remind me that art is both a ritual of remembrance and a spell of becoming.

Faith Ringgold’s legacy is a reminder that our creativity is never separate from our politics, our healing, or our spiritual work. Her practice shows us that we can take the most ordinary of materials, fabric, thread, story and charge them with power, beauty, and resistance. This season, I’m carrying her lesson that art can hold memory, demand justice, and imagine liberation all at once.

The Bitter Nest, Part II: The Harlem Renaissance Party

Art Journal Prompt - Symbols as Thresholds

Exploring Your Dreams and Symbols Through Visual Journaling

This month, I invite you to explore the symbols that appear in your own life as guides and thresholds.

Think of Faith Ringgold’s story quilts, each image, colour, and fragment of fabric becomes more than material; it becomes memory, resistance, and imagination stitched into form. In your own journal, allow symbols to emerge in the same way: not as static images, but as living companions.

Begin by reflecting on a recent dream, repeated shape, or recurring image that has caught your attention. Don’t overthink it, it might be a spiral, a bird, a doorway, a piece of fabric, or even a phrase someone spoke.

On your page, translate this symbol into visual form. You could draw it, collage it, stitch it, or layer colours and textures until it takes shape. Let it repeat, fragment, or morph. Allow the materials themselves to guide you, just as alchemy transforms one state into another.

Once the image is there, sit with it and ask:

· What threshold does this symbol represent?

· What am I leaving behind, and what am I stepping toward?

· How does this image balance the visible and invisible in my life right now?

Write a few lines alongside your work, not as an explanation but as a conversation, the beginning of a dialogue with the unseen currents moving through your own creative practice.

Remember: this isn’t about creating a polished piece. It’s about listening, noticing, and honouring the subtle languages that want to speak through you.

Little Witchy Things

Practical Magic for Daily Life and Creative Connection

As we move into this new month, I’ve gathered a few small practices to help you attune to the subtle currents of life and creativity. These are gentle invitations to notice, reflect, and bring magic into everyday moments.

One way to connect with the unseen is by mapping your currents. Pay attention to recurring symbols, sensations in your body, or patterns in your dreams. Capture them in a journal, sketchbook, or with simple shapes and colours. By observing these threads, you strengthen your awareness of the energies guiding your creativity and life.

Another practice is embodying intention in ordinary actions. Whether you’re washing dishes, brewing tea, or watering a plant, infuse the moment with presence, gratitude, or a whispered intention. These small, mindful acts transform everyday routines into threads of magic, grounding you in the rhythm of life and creativity.

You can also explore symbolic offerings. Choose a small object, a stone, feather, leaf, or ribbon, that resonates with your current energy or aspiration. Hold it, notice its texture, colour, and weight, and place it somewhere meaningful in your home, studio, or altar. Let it serve as a reminder of the energy you wish to cultivate this month.

Finally, listen to your dreams as collaborators in your creative practice. Before sleep, set an intention or ask a question. Upon waking, note any images, symbols, or impressions. Allow these messages to inspire your art, journaling, or daily reflections. Dreams are guides that speak in a language of texture, colour, and subtle energy, pay attention, and they will inform your creative path.

Cycles of Craft - Libra Season, Eclipses, and Astrological Guidance for October

We enter Libra Season with a bang! The month begins under the Solar Eclipse and Spring Equinox on September 21 and 22, a powerful alignment that invites both reflection and renewal. The eclipse asks us to trust ourselves and our inner guidance, while the equinox brings the balance of light and dark, marking a perfect moment to plant seeds for what we wish to grow over the coming months. Together, these energies set the stage for intentional creation, grounding, and alignment.

On September 24, Mars enters Scorpio, bringing a deep, focused intensity to our actions and desires. Mars in Scorpio encourages us to move with determination, dive beneath the surface of situations, and confront what we’ve been avoiding. This energy can fuel transformation, but it asks for patience and trust in the process, rather than forcing outcomes.

Looking ahead, October 7 brings a Super Full Moon in Aries, illuminating our passions, courage, and personal drives. This is a moment of heightened energy and clarity, a chance to release what no longer serves and step more fully into your authentic power. Around the same time, Mercury enters Scorpio, sharpening intuition, deepening conversations, and encouraging us to communicate with honesty, insight, and emotional depth.

On October 13, Venus moves into Libra, softening our relationships and interactions with harmony, beauty, and grace. This energy highlights diplomacy, self-care in partnership, and the art of finding balance within connection. It’s a gentle reminder that nurturing others begins with nurturing ourselves.

Finally, the New Moon in Libra on October 21 offers a fresh start in alignment with balance, fairness, and creative partnership. This lunar cycle invites reflection on where harmony is needed in our lives and what intentions we wish to cultivate as we move toward the light half of the year. It is a time to plant seeds, both in art and life, trusting that what we sow now will grow into meaningful, radiant expression.

Oracle Insights - Tuning Into Your Own Balance and Intuition This Month

This month’s energies invite us to pause, listen, and find balance within shifting ground. For October, I suggest a three-card spread that mirrors the themes of Libra season.

The Spread

· What do I need to surrender to right now?

· What is seeking to be nourished or birthed within me?

· Where am I being called back into balance?

When you lay your cards, sit with them as symbols and companions rather than rushing for answers. Note how they speak to one another, how they echo patterns in your dreams, your body, or your studio practice.

Keep this spread nearby throughout the month. You may find that the cards reveal new layers as the moon shifts, as planets move, as your own perspective changes. It is not a one-time reading but a map to walk with, a living dialogue between you, your intuition, and the unseen currents of October.

Seasonal Vibes & Studio Soundtrack

Music to Inspire Your Creative Practice and Inner Flow

This playlist is a kind of sonic altar, a collection of tracks that are guiding my heart, igniting inspiration, and holding space for the liminal, the slow, and the magical moments in my studio this season.

You’ll hear songs that echo both light and shadow, grounding rhythms and ethereal voices, songs that feel like dusk meeting dawn. They move with ritual, dream, longing, everything I need right now to lean into the unseen currents of creativity, trust, and transformation.

If you’re creating, walking, resting, or simply breathing, may these tracks feel like companions. Let them hold you steady, open space inside, and carry you forward.

Closing the Circle & Wrap-Up

Spring Equinox, Special Edition Blog, and October Studio Highlights

As we close this circle and step into the fresh rhythms of this new moon cycle, may you carry with you the balance, clarity, and courage to shape what’s next. October asks us to trust the unseen currents, tend to the seeds we’ve planted, and honour both the endings and beginnings that mark this turning of the wheel.

The Spring Equinox brings its own magic, a moment of perfect balance between day and night, reminding us that growth and stillness are equally necessary in our creative lives. If you’d like to explore the energies of Ostara more deeply, be sure to check out my Special Edition Blog Post dedicated to this seasonal celebration.

For more in-depth insights, you’ll find weekly Little Witchy Things and Cycles of Craft posts on Substack and over on the socials, guiding you step by step through the unfolding month.

And before I go, a little note from the studio, there’s currently a sale in my Redbubble store. If you’ve had your eye on my crow artworks, now’s the perfect time to bring one home, especially with Halloween just around the corner.

Until next moon, may your path be creative, your practice nourishing, and your days threaded with magic.

AI Image Disclaimer:

Some images in this post were generated with the assistance of AI. I use these tools to support my creative practice, particularly in ways that accommodate my chronic health and disability, helping me explore ideas and visual concepts when physical limitations make traditional methods challenging. These images are part of my process, not a replacement for handmade art.

October Art Witch Journal: Creative Symbolism