His compositions exist on the border between dreams and nightmares, drawing on the visual language of cosmic horror and the Weird. Using a variety of found imagery and vintage ephemera, he constructs warped visions that feel at once familiar and alien, like fragments of half-remembered films seen long ago.

Whether we call them our muse or the inspiration behind the creative endeavours that shape our lives, in her feminine power, I find a mother. I discover a blend of the empress and the high priestess tarot cards, beautifully rolled into one figure…

Poetry grounds me. It is an escape as much as a mirror of my thoughts and feelings, positive or negative. It helped me grow; it allows me to heal. Poetry is the lens I need to try to make sense of it all. Or to navigate the uncertainty, to say the least. ..

Creativity in its purest form is the act of invention. From stories to paintings to fashion garments – we are all inventing our own piece of art.  As children we often played with limited props, we used our imagination to re-create the world we saw around us…

We are all very aware of Aleister Crowley. We have certainly been told many stories of his time on earth. As an intriguing figure within the occult, I was never bothered by what people thought of him nor was I a follower…

When Clarice Lispector sat down to write this book she set out to “capture the present”, a place where she endeavours to capture life and time as she feels it…

A film study of the artwork of the famed painter and occultist Marjorie Cameron reveals many layers to her complex life and creative expression. Curtis Harrington shared insights with Cameron biographer Spencer Kansa in his book, Wormwood Star: The Magickal Life of Marjorie Cameron…

There is always work to be done. There is always space for progression in feminist art history. Equality is not a full stop; as art historians and researchers as well as practitioners, whilst looking ahead, we must also look backwards and interrogate the notion of ‘the archive’. What is missing? What has been lost?

Many years ago, I stumbled across a rather interesting looking magazine that was just right up my alley – it was called Morbid Curiosity. It was filled full of essays featuring ghosts, death, cemeteries, mummies, murder, spirits...the list goes on…

I think poetry is or can be a lot of things, but for me, it's always been a doorway. In a sense, it is the threshold between the incarnate and the intangible; it’s how we make material of the occult. A poem can be everything, really—defying and collapsing time and aspects of selves. So, maybe it is a way to express the soul?

Kainskult keeps all the basic building blocks of Perfection & Permanence: the tribal drumming, the atavistic propulsion, the clattering metal percussion, and the abysmal growls. But somehow it reaches a new level of intensity, both sonically and lyrically.

In the twilit caverns of Serra de Collserola, a crooked journey begins. The vague contour of the Hierophant emerges in an ash-pale fog. He stretches his arms towards the sky. He opens his mouth, and from it radiates the blinding light of swallowed suns.

On 19th, Nin asks Tana if she could borrow a Spanish dress that she has. They head to the cellar together. She is so excited to be able to able to borrow it that she kisses her lips ‘childishly’ and Tana responds with fervour. As Nin rushes out, Tana encircles her arms around her from behind and they walk out together. When Nin turns her head back, they share another passionate kiss ‘as lovers, violently and wildly.’

This novella is a stylistic trample along the waste land, a pilgrimage that is felt with every word, every sentence, every delicately placed piece of punctuation. It is a death chant, a pilgrimage with unknown lands and consequences.

A tool to heal. A mirror. An edited journal entry. A commentary. A succinct observation about a vast occurrence. God for Dummies.