Magic Maker: The Enchanted Path to Creativity by Pam Grossman explores creativity and magic as inseparable forces: spellcasting and invocation, divination and spirit communication, all in service of making whatever it is you’re meant to make. A song, a novel, a path through this strange world.
She writes about preparatory rituals and consciousness-shifting, about anointment and adornment and alter egos, about the tingly sensation of being “activated” when Big Inspiration strikes. About how chaos must shimmer behind the veil of order—the way the back of embroidered work is a riot of tangled threads and knots, what I call “the nightmare side” of any pristine creative surface. Her references range from Remedios Varo to Orville Peck, from Chelsea Wolfe to Beyoncé to Prince, from David Lynch talking about catching big fish in the depths to André Breton insisting that all art is magical in its genesis. She describes ekphrasis as speaking out about a piece of art and adding your own embellishments through unique interpretation, which made me sit up and think: that’s exactly how I write about art. Magic, she says, is an intentional means of collaborating with Creative Force to transform a state of being, and creativity is the truest expression of our magic. They’re the ouroboros eating its tail, the lemniscate looping forever—two sides of the same sparkling coin, flipped and spinning through infinite possibility.
I haven’t finished this book yet. Normally I would wait until the end before writing about anything, and there was that familiar pull to rush through it, to consume it all at once so I could discuss it properly and give you the full picture. But I think it’s actually more helpful to write about a book like this in stages because it is teeming with insight and revelations. There’s so much here to absorb and sit with. I can always come back and write more later. But I prefer to experience Pam’s books parceled out more slowly, letting each idea land and resonate before moving to the next, giving them space to breathe and bloom and burrow their way through my wriggly brain noodles, setting off sparks and lighting up pathways and making unexpected connections.
I’ve been in awe of Pam’s work for what feels like forever now; she’s been a continual source of inspiration, and what she does thrills me to the deepest gloops of my marrow. We’ve known each other online for nearly twenty years, fellow travelers on similar creative wavelengths, sharing the same fascination with where art and magic collide. Her words have this particular power to bewitch and transport, to ensorcell you completely, leaving you utterly immersed and somehow changed. I trust her to take me places both wondrous and magical.
Essential for anyone who’s ever felt that tingle beneath their skin when inspiration strikes, for those who understand that getting out of your own way means making space for something grander to move through you, for anyone who wants to see their tangled nightmare-side threads as proof of magic working rather than evidence of mess, and for those ready to remember that making and magic have always been the same shimmering, infinite thing.