Guardian_Demon

“What’s occurring now, with the fourth wave of feminism crashing, is that many female artists are using occult images, ritual gestures, and witch iconography to not only connect to the divine, but to continue to make space for themselves in a field which is still dominated by men. They’re utilizing herbs, candles, ceremonial garb, and goddess imagery, and mashing it up with digital treatments and modern technology. As such, they’re turning themselves into witches: women who create things and shift perception, who trust their intuition, and who have the power to change the world. Their work is spiritual and political at the same time.”
― Kristen J. Sollee, Witches, Sluts, Feminists: Conjuring the Sex Positive

“On Witches and Female Soothsayers” features woodcut prints of witches embracing the Devil, half-human, and half-animal creatures riding cooking forks, witches gathering around a cauldron, and witches gabbing with their wicked sisters over a meal.”
― Kristen J. Sollee, Witches, Sluts, Feminists: Conjuring the Sex Positive

“I learn how to listen to my body. I must listen or I will die. In the water, I must learn the difference between fear and danger.”
― Sonya Renee Taylor, The Body Is Not an Apology: The Power of Radical Self-Love

“I’ll hiss at you all I fucking want, Mom.” Bared teeth sharpened as amber spread through Sophie’s pupils. “I went to her because of you. Because I don’t want you to live like a troll for the rest of your life. And you can’t-,” A growl ran over Sophie’s words as her upper lip split, the septum of her nose sliding down towards it. “Baby no! Don’t!” Gloria pleaded. Bones cracked as Sophie tore off her clothing. “Why not? She waaants to meeeeet you anywaay aaahhh.” The words strained against the background of popping bones. She kicked her skirt from around her ankles as fur raced up her spine, spreading from the base of her tail. “Huuurts,” She ground out as she fell down to the floor. “Always does during the new moon,” I said, raising myself up on tiptoes to watch the transformation. Gloria watched her daughter change, with wide eyes and a shaking head, but Taya had gone so pale, I feared she’d faint. “She will not hurt you. Right, Sophie? You just wanted to show them.” Sophie made a gargle of sounds that might have been a yes as her hips narrowed in a series of violent snaps, seeming to squeeze muscle up into her neck. Torso reshaped, the transformation continued down through her limbs, muscles swelling with the stretching of bones. Fingers bent backwards as they thickened to the fleshy digits of paws. The sickle-like claws folded back into the tips before a wave of tawny golden fur hid them away. That fur lightened to white on her chest and chin. With the change finished, she sank down onto the floor with a relieved sound somewhere between a meow and a human sigh. I recognized the signs of a shift forced by spending too long in human form. I’d be running into my own limit soon. If Sophie had been human since we exited that cave then the pressure to change had probably been immense”
― Daniel Potter, Soul Shock