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The Wizard of Saturn and the two stones

Hausbuch Wolfegg, Saturn

I'm writing a story for the Wizard of Saturn, will publish only one because the rest will print on sheets of raw paper and the present of the Magician - with the two stones that are right for her - when the Universe will decide who will be time. Only then will publish the rest. Perhaps this will happen in my life or maybe the tale go beyond the boundaries of my time ... Apparitions, visions that belong to another time and perhaps will remain in that other time. Then they find themselves, who knows where and who knows when. Crazy.


The Wizard of Saturn is a guest at the Castle. It 'been invited and as usual do not think you deserve it, modesty is not his, mind you, it's just a kind of self-imposed mental mechanism act to encourage it to do more and better and better. It 's so that has always guided his life and the growth of his own person, driven by an innate stubborn and very strictly. When the wind blows from the north to the castle is cold, colder than usual, the Wizard of Saturn has pulled back the curtains and thinking, leaning against a column covered with slate, says the mountains in front of him. Very cold. Beautiful. The ice falls from there and creeps into his bones. But he holds. He is the Wizard of Saturn, unshakable. It always seems sad, even now, leaning that column, while looking at the mountains, he and Death in a thousand miles away from everybody, but he is so he is not a fool nor needs to have around jesters. He is sufficient for himself, always. The Wizard of Saturn has accepted his assignment without hesitation, the son and grandson of MA, was used to perform the duty that he was asked by ascetic perseverance, he has specialized writing done on the mechanisms of pain and is dedicated to finding a elusive recipe for a panacea that can "bonire all evil." It 's a bit one of his fixation. Sure, he has studied and knows Galen, but his passion is directed at another person ... and it is easy to understand. In part doctor and in the "priest". Alchemist. The Lords of the Castle, however, already have their doctor, as they have a priest to whom it does not seem real to have been elevated to that role, and chaplain who was ragged, he now finds a spiritual guide ... and transeamus - for now - on how to manage the sacred by this man ...
The Wizard of Saturn it should do anything else there at the castle, he would have another job to do in that house. And the castle is more of a rough jumble of stones, nothing to do with the beautiful, elegant fortresses of the Plain. The lords who dominate the valleys are rapacious and brutal and their homes reflect the essential warrior (And often Predosa) that characterizes them. The Middle Ages is one part time "crystallization" and the other period of movements "on the various chess pieces." It 's like everyone is looking for a place of power and were trying to figure out "which to choose and how to position within a world that is radically changing, a world that, like all periods of transition, there remains poised and there is air that has to change. But who are the protagonists of that time and place we are talking? They are the lords who live in the Alps still wild and try to push the boundaries of their possessions, day after day, as fierce battling Gentlemen ... there is the Church, with all his assistants, who does not love those places but is well aware of the need to establish outposts there, too, and above all they need "protection" and legitimacy, at least by those in power (or rather of those who have taken the lead) ... and then a plethora of helpful villagers in search of a corner in the sun while sitting on the floor next to the master's table ... and of course are always ready to cut his throat at the right time. No chivalrous ideal. Not least in those places. Finally, only the raw land to work for hundreds of poor people deprived of any right to claim on the fields for which they live spitting blood. We shall meet in secret among poor people, begins to drift a sort of fear of even a simple scan with little joy to the seasonal rhythms and looks to the now strong official religion to see if some things can still do or not, "calling the shots is in fact now the religion of the One and unapproachable God, a God who promises life eternal for those who never dare to raise its head in life that they now are living. suffer in silence!, only that you are allowed! Certain "holidays" there is still the old echo, although where the Church did not cover with its mantle, the tendency is to bloody repression. Or at least the ban. The development would seem the only entertainment, nothing, not even the weddings tend to be more public because the Lord would want to intervene and assume the right to claim the graces of the bride, usually with beneplacido when even the mockery of itself Castellana. The Lords have as they see fit women who inhabit their land. The Wizard of Saturn tends to stay away from certain things, wasting time, he is considered a privileged, he studied at the School of Science and Konrad von Megenberg lords who dominate those areas if they contend for his own name son of a scholar of scholars. And so the Wizard of Saturn has always got to be able to take care of Science, is secretly (very secretly eh!) In love with the writings of Hildegard von Bingen, very cleverly takes care of the policy area and also knowingly provides help to those who need it, but quietly he could not bear the idea of \u200b\u200ban odious line of needy people at his door. He possesses the gift of a great love - the content but not measured! - For all humanity that surrounds him. He could have chosen to install him as Lord at his current residence and his laboratory, but declined further invitations to be a diplomat to do so could not create any enemy. For now. And he always has control over its potential enemies. Up there at the Castle all the fear, the fear is that the Lords quell'ex butcher called "doctor" and is the ragged slimy priest. But above all the fear the Lords. And he feels very protected from this, protected in his power to do pretty much what he likes most and be able to roam freely in their possessions. It 'was during one of those who saw her wandering the Witch. He saw her, but she has not seen him. At least not in the sense that he imagines. She in fact has only "heard". And then it was bad. Very bad. He can not understand "why" than its intrusion that gradually, over time, has become stronger. Someone had spoken of the Witch, he was told that there, on the crossroads to the north boundary of his possessions Gentlemen, lives in a cave half a girl voted maybe an ancient god, or perhaps a demon, some swears that she "rides a wolf with the Old, "is rather those who have seen quotidinamente fill the vase of flowers next to the shrine of the Virgin, to climb up there and pastures ... but no, for now, has never taken the habit of going to get her to ask something, ask to be accountable for its actions. Every time she was visited by some sick and often the daughters of poor people waiting for unwanted children present companion in arms of passage, the children of the same soldiers that you care but do not have the courage to touch it because of the stories about his servant Lucibello, Lover and powerful demon, or goes to the women's house in childbirth, but all in secret, everyone is magnetized but nobody wants too have to do with her and she does not want too many people around ... once went from there also la Castellana to ask a favor , it says the grace of a son who invariably had arrived, and so the rumor had spread around giving it a sort of legitimacy to stay there. " They say that you can speak with the demons, will be able to attract them and send them away from the body and mind and do so even those with which the priest can do. Lives of Our Lady of Grace ... or perhaps that of the Devil? In any event, beyond the rumors, for what is certain is that as long as she reigns Castellana anyone, not even the sleazy priest who thinks he's having good reason, or dare to send her away to her worse. She is a bit 'like the Wizard of Saturn has set its balance and trouble to tear! And indeed that is not The Wizard of Saturn is looking for it had not gone there on purpose, it was by chance (by chance?) In front of that hole cave where she lives, had stopped his horse and went down to pick up a drink from a rudimentary tank where the witch is used to collect rainwater. Then suddenly it stopped. He had seen her from behind, skinny and dressed in pieces, fiddling with something in front of a small fire, signs traced on the ground, feathers, stones, sticks and words spoken in a low voice. In the hands a small sickle, those from the field. The Wizard of Saturn is not superstitious, is a man of Science, at least he tries, and his studies prove it ... just do not like to be caught off guard, knows what is moving on very thin floors and behind the thin veil of reason ... and so had decided to stand by and watch the scene hidden by a giant larch. The girl, the Witch, always from behind, apparently did not move. Perhaps he spoke ... or was it the wind? The face was fixed on an indefinite point in the right hand clutching the sickle close. Beside her a black dog, a large mastiff, stood quietly and looked like a sphinx. The dog! The Wizard of Saturn had not noticed the dog ... and suddenly the animal moved in his direction. Without growl nor bark, just pointing the area. "It will have After the horse, although I tied far from clear ...". The Wizard of Saturn began to dislike the situation, had no means nor time to study it enough for him and calm, patience, reasoning and the cold calculation but were really essential to move at best. That situation instead contravened every rule ... He felt a latent danger, even though it was very well armed and a girl with a dog were not a threat "natural" for him. He was trained in the science so as to guns. But there was something else. Something attracted him, and he knew there was something, he knew!, that would be very useful here, but prudence made him rather immobile, paralyzed. The big dog had walked three or four yards in his direction when the Witch, still without turning around, recalled him to himself. Immediately the animal turned toward her, ran to her, then looked back toward the Wizard of Saturn. The Witch is not never turned towards him. He walked toward the cave and gently invited her dog to follow. Both disappeared into that black hole of stone. The Wizard of Saturn did not move for a few seconds, then quickly walked away towards his horse. Saddle was assailed by the strange sensation, a mixture of relief escaped the danger and an opportunity lost ... but for now still has to be all right ... Time will give or take away reason, only time has this power over him. No one else. And he is not afraid ... Time Mage as Kronos does not fear death and waiting. Afraid of one thing and one thing is drawn: the madness. And incredibly admiring of demons who is not afraid of human folly.
Witch instead knows: it's the Wizard of Saturn, he felt it coming and had "seen" even if they have not looked at it and we can say that he does not know who he is (the Witch is far away from logic and from events at the Castle), but this time he knows he can also turn the sickle and hold it on the side of the blade, she will no longer anything to establish a priori, who brings with him the chill of Scythe can not control anything , is why, cautiously, it was not time ... but for now, even for her, is still okay ...

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A Grafofagia all its own ...

Nyc writes a lot. E 'obsessed with writing. It 'a kind of graphomaniac.
Nyc writes and eats everything that was written. Everything you wrote.
Grafofagia.
Nyc "eats" in the sense that its ago, in the deepest meaning of the verb "eat" all the words that way, the leave for days, months and years, "eats" not in a physical sense but in the sense that the sculpts in the interior for leave to act in the best in his life. And in the life of the reader.

Spells. And NYC is like a novel Golem with his scraps of paper activators. Nyc

But not only writes "here" on the Blog. Of this blog is just a fun exercise, an attempt to digital communication, something as unusual as it is entertaining for her. Things marks the most pregnant Nyc (Signs ...) on its books. Indeed, notebooks with the "Q" capitalized. Words and pictures, I want to honor the Zodiac that the Sun is in that of Uranus this month. Sign of fast connection. NYC has always believed that writing was magic, a kind of activation that far outweighs the fleeting vocis flatus. The voice did not deposit anything, you know b ene NYC lately is doggedly continuing his exercises on silence. The passive voice, "spear", and goes, if something needs to be clinging then grabs him, otherwise the sign must ol'incisione. And the writing is a kind of incision. He was right in Swabia: "pinning all the words that I cast out." She also precisely on the TV Guide, then could not remember what he had written and had read Nyc ... which obviously did not understand. In short, the ideal would organize at least! For this NYC keeps least a notebook in her purse and a notebook hidden under the work agenda, including an appointment and the other of poor leadership which tries to do as an assistant ... and NYC has recently discovered a shop that sells packages of colored paper and recycled wood tones and beautiful handmade cards to send to friends and associates. That hole is the shop of his kingdom! Yes, why not interested in Nyc mark things up ... the sign of a digital archive, forging pe nsiero on paper, is the important thing for her. The incision. The symbol. The date. The signing ... to dial in a good way to avoid the invoices. How many times affixing signatures every day? How many times we do it without too badarci and there enough screen? The writings are all tracks. It 's the Daimon guiding hand, which in turn slides the pen and pencil. The written sign is there: magical expression of a moment that otherwise we would have lost. Scratch of fate. Nyc because fate is all that is "just state," the sign that could tell us also what will (might ... .... ... But it is said), the thing that speaks to those who look carefully. Vision to unravel slowly, and above all to score. NYC whole-earth and water-in-mud with its Taurus and Scorpio Rising. Seemingly quiet, watch and write, witch-scorpion-venom hidden in the rocky gorges all pins in her notebooks. Some say that his eyes "change" when he writes. Try to affect your scores on paper, your Sincronie, what do you liquidate your eyes? And 'the excitement of discovery, the key that turns slowly in the lock, the lock or "maybe" suddenly clicks and pops. Leave submit your script and what settles slowly become magic of wheels and gears that moves and then run ... and run more and more, tracing furrows, to cultivate your fields, tracks that will be very clear later. It's your thread that unravels in Time. The path your time: and that is you think about it, for you that you scored, you've written, you are the Magician! Everything will be clear to you, an evocation of latent unconscious phantasy that is new in the dawn. It 's your story, how can you believe potertene be there, at the margin, to watch (suffer?) ... ..... You're swearing! Get a pen and paper: a nice piece of paper and a nice pen. Write or draw, di-marks. Stroke. Write as if you were to read some time between other people (and maybe they will! ) because then it will certainly "another you" to re-read those things, your old coincidences and synchronicities of your past take the form of your new events. And do not lie. In performing this exercise, you can not lie, the better the open mouth and a bullet fired from down in the stomach. Write the hideous and revolting reality appointment unspeakable things, trace the signs that make you afraid, throws to the winds the principle of non-contradiction, as Matte Blanco said on the principle of symmetry [*]: "The unconscious is the report inverse of any relationship as if it were identical to the report. This implies that treats asymmetrical relations as if they were symmetrical ", this exorcism will cancel the time, space and any other distinction and classification. Make light of the Vision. The sign is the Deity and the catch is you who is a mischievous sprite invisible, made specifically to your foil the paper. Take your notebook into the wood and trace the sounds you hear, what I recall, designed the flight of butterflies, where they alight? They are the voices of the Little People that too often men have not been able to write down and write. Angels in the air and air between the trees as you "write it all." Reread what you wrote after months, some pages the tears of anger, others will make you cry, others will still be those which now you're falling in love or hate that now with all my heart but in any case, the vision will be corrected in black and white. What counts is still the sign. And if you say that the "story told" is curative, imagine what can write! Think of those spells transmitted orally, which over the centuries have assumed a certain stability of form so it can be elevated to the rank of transcription in some code .
Nyc thinks of his notebooks and run away a bit 'funny. Sometimes the law of "workers of the occult", "witches", "neo-pagan," "shaman," "Druids" (?) Who spend a bang of € to buy grimoires trendy, upholstered in leather or python Armadillo adorned with feathers or Ibis Condor Fuchsia ... This rather strange girl is in love with the smell of recycled paper, is in love - madly - signs engraved on the raw paper. Its rough (these forthcoming) Books of the Command ...

"... We had a priest from Elva,

lags behind that of the picturesque village
in that magnificent mountain valley of Valle Maira

which encircle the giants of pelvis,

of Suede and Chersogno.

It had come to possess God knows how;

and had also learned,

certainly be a professor of magic,

to read for his verse.

And we really wanted to read the inside

a profound science.

It was not a book like the others.

First of all centuries old,

perhaps thousands of years;

and then, hand-written, but with plenty of strange signs

- doodles, arrows, circles, knots, grids, spirals, figures and monstrous figures -

and certain pages in a red so vivid they seemed blood and fire ... "

(E. Milan, the magic book)

[*] The Book of Matte Blanco I mentioned is: The unconscious as infinite sets. Essay on the bi-logic. Einaudi.

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A tonight. See you tomorrow. At Candlemas. 1 to 2 February

"Serafino Herald said to have encountered several mask of flesh and blood and have them well taken measures. The first overnight magic of Candlemas, the February 2, a very cold night, with ice that you could cut with a knife. "

(from: Masche, voices, places and characters of "Piemonte other "through research, stories and authentic accounts, and Bosca Donato Bruno Murialdo, Papers Civilization and Culture of Piedmont, Priuli & Verlucca Publisher)

the Tersubienna and Sveva.
For the first few Snowdrop.
To all those who this night, by their choice, will burn in the most beautiful purity.


At Companies and Families' dreams of them "...
... and those who, like me , Art studies on his own.


exorcism Alchemy of Light that dissolves old fossilized crystals.
to going away all that must go on.
the exorcism Exorcism of fire and with fire.
to me that my work gloves and cut blacks full of old ashes.
In my eyes already Clutching the pot of fire.
my fingers are cold that routinely hook the pot of fire.
To my black fingers of what remains on the bottom ...


blessed candles. But blessed by me.
candles made by me.
Alchemy of Herbs and wax melted. At my
Water of St. John the spark plugs.


Uranus hyper. At
Fire Jupiter now traveling faster and soon I look in my Taurus.
Wheel of Fortune.
A Saturn-Love-and-Sword-of-Damocles -who-asks-you-care.
's bones strong.


... Dicta-Fact-Real ...


At serpent awaken slowly.
the bears almost no longer exist. To those who instead
Bear (r) still exist and perceive the new heat rising. Under the new
longer days, have you noticed? At
rite Fire Ara .


Candlemas, Feast of Light delicate and powerful. A
tonight. See you tomorrow. At Candlemas ...

To all of you who read


Cremata in the crucible,
Francesca.

PS I had to lighten the Blog and I eliminated a lot of posts (over half), I'm sorry but it was something to do. If for some absurd reason you are interested to recall something I wrote in these years, try to let me know ... even if it's not actually say that I find do not mind as long as it retains all the digital archives on my notebooks. In any case, it seemed right to write this thing.

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A strange girl

subtle interactions in two, four, even three-legged c. ..!

"Cats do not have to be started with the hunters of mice. Weasels, snakes and dogs are much more effective as an anti-rodent. I
suggests that cats are born psychic as companions, as spirits of the hearth, and who have never deviated from this function. "
(William S. Burroughs, The Cat in us Adelphi Edizioni)

The strange girl has always had a special relationship with animals. A privilege that for years had naively thought it was exclusively hers - a gift from Heaven! - "because of my name, maybe!" , Francesca ... San Francisco-and-animals and blah, blah, blah .... "I only speak with the animals!" said many years ago that weird child-saint-mystical-sorceress. But that's another story ... which I'll never talk.

"If I think of my early teens, I remember the feeling of many times when I wanted some creature crouched on his chest. A little thing, say the size of a cat. It is not a child and is not even an animal. Not exactly. E 'part human and part something else. I am reminded once the home of Price Road. Do I have Twelve, maybe thirteen. I wonder what it is ... a squirrel? ... No, not really. I can not perceive clearly. Do not even know what he needs. I know it relies on me completely. Much later I realized that I play the role of the Guardian, to give life and nourishment to a creature that is part cat, part man and part of something still unimaginable, which could be the result of a union is not consumed for millions of years. " (William S. Burroughs, The Cat in us, Adelphi Edizioni )

So there I was writing the animals. Lupone had rejected at first view that man, for example. A nice man, polite, seemingly quiet, a minimum of patina of culture, nice talking (one thing, the latter, which bears little Nyc among other things) ... but could see beyond the lies Lupone and appearances, he saw "forward" and when that guy came confident he instinctively tried to avoid it. That and ra was the only time he had his Lupone so openly refused a human being. And Lupone was never wrong. Nyc course thanked him (unfortunately only some time later ...) and learned the lesson: its "through" should be his family. The strange girl in fact never wants to "watch" the lives of people she knew and who attended, it always feels a bit 'uncomfortable when this happens because the fact in itself already reveals that a "doubt" is forming in his head, and hence a reading of blades may be unnecessary because "so as not to see the disaster," we invent what you want to see. -Familiar with the animals instead, when the signals are clear and clean, do not run any risk of misjudgment. Nyc always looks at the complex and immediate interaction that takes place when other people relate with his little friends. Another important thing, I would say essential, to define the relationship with animals Nyc-family: silence. Or rather, the voice changes dialogue, as she calls it. Familiar with the animals-the dialogue is "essential " in the sense that " is reduced to the essence" and rather count the facts, not rumors ... try to "explain" the fact a cat that you will give to eat three hours after the usual time ... try to "invent an excuse ", you probably sfascerà the house (well, surely you on your poor accanirà sofa or chair ... or better yet some on the curtains!), or maybe you will break the eardrums of force to break them or meowing ... your neighbors. With them you do not mind. In general it is not but never mind this is not always the lesson is learned immediately, with the family instead it's getting very simple because, even in the thousand nuances of the dialogue man-cat or cat spontaneity in the thousands of "game" dog-man, the honesty will be the master ...

"There is another, much less obvious means of communication used by wolves, which can perhaps be called extrasensory or at least alien to our perceptive faculties "

(Barry Lopez - Wolves, from the best the enemy of man , Piemme Editions)


"The sky was darkening, the black clouds were always lower. At one point, behind the trees, I saw a lightning tore the sky. I thought maybe it was better to turn around and come back.
I had just turned around when someone cut off the road.

A woman! A woman in the company of a large dog ... "

(from the story: The Males Valaudrè , taken from Masche - Voices, places and characters of a piedmont other "through research, true stories and testimonials ,
Donato Bosca and Bruno Murialdo)

"The cat does not offer services. The cat offers himself. Naturally wants care and shelter. Do not you love to buy anything. Like all creatures, even cats are practical. To understand an ancient question, one must give back to present.
My meeting with my Ruski and mutation in human-cat re-stage the relationship between the first domestic cats and their human protectors. "
(William S. Burroughs, The Cat in us Adelphi Edizioni)

Obviously there is a difference between a dog and a cat. Eh, good NYC! What a discovery! you say ... Yes, of course, but the difference in terms of dialogue magic proves to be a proper line of demarcation. The dog will accompany you, unwillingly, in your adventures, in which stray from the psychic slides in the magic will take you puffing in areas unknown to him. Will be strong and Look, look with an air test and by pointing out that there, in that strange dark area where you brought, is not even his bowl and his favorite ball. With his tail between his legs will shield between you and Anubis until both fall from that adventure, tired and exhausted. A cat instead there will ever in your travels to other worlds, unless the thing, for some strange reason - unknown to you! - I do not particularly attract. The cat knows perfectly give guidance on the precipice of the spirit world. And you usually appears to him only as "a blatant and unnecessary obstacle", a sort of clumsy individual who behaves like one who tries to balance a tray of crystal glasses on the deck of a ship in a stormy sea. E 'useless. The operator of the occult can only ever envy the cat. Learn a little something from him, of course, some crumb of his esoteric knowledge and his shrewd move on the strings of Energy precise thin Osservatene ... just the structure, the skeleton (just to get back to a speech saturnine) elastic adaptable, graceful. Always graceful, as if he were to move air between the folds of some invisible threshold that separates an infinite number of universes. I am reminded of my cat Flipper, blind and with only three legs ... yet graceful, sir. Always.

"We are the cat that is in us. We are cats that can not walk alone,
and for us there is one place only.

(William S. Burroughs, The Cat in us , Adelphi Edizioni)

All 's had tried for months and discarded adoption. Blind, a leg amputated, ill. A character of ice, strong, precise, straight, strong, silent. Obviously I had to be Familiar ... I had already spoken HERE , "by chance" by associating my reflection in a lunation in Capricorn.

Becoming animals.
Typical accusation to "witches".
transformed into the family means deep in features that we notice them more in a given period. And so I become what their character more known now. What stands out to me more than anything. Maybe because it's what I need more ... we always talk about the universe and most messengers imperatives are usually those with whom we merge ourselves, or we merged when they were alive. Trasformadoci in them, we transform ourselves ...


"We have seen that in the story of the snake-witch Angela was beaten and scalded with the red-hot spit and inflicted wounds and burns and then re-appeared on an old neighborhood, forced to wear a sling. (...) And in Otia imperalia Gervase of Tilbury says in 1212 Lamie of surprises in the form of cats around at night by travelers and their wounds by sword, noting that the next day some women from a neighboring country, shared the same wounds and mutilations inflicted on the cat. Similar stories are also found in other European countries and the Basque Country. (...) The transformation of the witch is therefore a real propriae metamorphosis into an animal and in the town of Castello - as elsewhere in Italy, France or Spain - the metamorphosis of a cat that seems overwhelmingly.
(Cesare Bermani, Fly for the Sabbath, DeriveApprodi Editions)