When I first obtained my driving license and access to a car I'd head straight to the Occult and Mysticism section of the bookstore. It wasn't so much that I had an aversion to the Jewish religion which I was raised but more so that I didn't experience alchemy at synagogue. I didn't see much more than simple metaphor and repetition. As an adult, I adore those things and many other facets of Judaism but at the time it was old news. Magic to me was a performance, a fantastical escape from the rigid and angular day to day...not to mention that it allegedly could give you sensational abilities. If you could travel in your dreams, see into the future, or communicate with the dead you superseded other human abilities. You were special and I wanted so badly to be a special human that could go beyond this realm. For a long time I associated magic with bonding with like minded people and it wasn't so much that we practiced magic together (although, I'll readily admit reading tarot cards and gaining a reputation for being scarily accurate, or doing my best to astrally project) it was that they wanted to be special too, I now realize. We all wanted to believe in world where we could write the novel as we passed the days and it could be as exciting and extraordinary as we desired. There was no moment when I just stopped being interested as I'm still fascinated but I'm fairly certain that the delving into philosophy killed my naive/juvenile, and what I thought previously romantic but now silly notions. Maybe it was because I had so much more energy as well and that our little crew was symbiotic. What remains in my magical dimension are nothing more than ephemera like keys from past residences, flower petals from the yards of vacations and such. It's become a record just like the art always was. It's a impermanent tattoo unless you count memories of your own or others' as permanent. I don't particularly miss it. I do miss being on the lookout for signs. Things meant so much more then. A found token could refer to something premonitory, albeit probably associated by force. I still have a thread of it that rides on the many layers of daily intentions. It comes out now in fairly boring moments and once in awhile I wish I never learned about Nietzsche or Conceptual Art. It's so clinical and I wanted to live in a narrative world so badly regardless of my most logical alignment. Anyway, here are some modern witches that live in Poland. They're badass.