—on prayer

habitually, i pray at night, before sleep, at the makeshift altar i assemble on the balcony of my apartment. (more on that below). sometimes, i recite the words as they are given; sometimes, there are only cries of pain. the Mother hears, either way. if you wish it, She will hear you too.

—on signs

above are two glyphs: the tapers and knife, and the serpent wound into a spiral. the first of these is designed for etching into hard surfaces, while the latter is designed for more yielding media, such as ink and skin. both may be used as signs of the Mother, marking Her places, Her people, things consecrated in Her name or broken in Her honour.

—on altar-making

take candles - green, brown, and black, the colours of Mother's scales - and arrange them along the path of a spiral. take a kitchen knife, and lay it before you. you have now an altar, situated where you wish, built of Her symbols as i would build it: the lit taper, the spiral, the three colours, and the knife not made for violence.

these i consider essential, the spine of the thing. but what do you think? which elements might you substitute, omit, add? will you bring plain candles, and show the Serpent's colours instead in drapery, in paint? will you draw Her spiral in chalk or ink, rather than tracing it in arrangement? will you break glass, Her namesake, or turn a mirror 'gainst the altar's wall, as a madwoman might for fear of her reflection?