December 2017 Artist Interview: Intricate Knot

Copyright © Intricate Knot

To find where Intricate Knot sells her wares visit her on her artist page on HAB. 

Interview with Intricate Knot of Tarryfails Corner:

Which pieces of your artwork are you most proud of, currently for sale or sold? Share an image of it if you have one.

I’m most proud of my set of Three Black Kitties: Eenie, Meenie, and Mynie. Beware. These guys may look cute and harmless with their lollipops and Trick-or-Treat buckets, but I have it on very good authority that Mynie and Meenie are evil masterminds. And Eenie? Eenie is a super evil mastermind, playing his brothers with a gusto generally not seen outside Fish & Chips Night at Mac’s Evil Kitty’s Eatery.

Name an artist(s) whose work you admire and what influence have they had on your art?

Edward Gorey. When I was a kid I went to the library after school and poured through every Edward Gorey book I could find. Seeing his work made me realize that I wasn’t the only weirdo in the world. There are lots of us. We’re all one big weirdo family!

What would you consider the highest honor or greatest goal you would like to achieve with your art?

I would love to make a good living with my art and writing. One day, (I hope!) that will be the ultimate achievement for me.

What Halloween costume that you got to wear in childhood was your favorite and has the fondest memory for you?

It wasn’t until I was older that I really got to let loose on Halloween. My fav costume was one I put together for my son when he was little. He loved The Terminator (original film). I had a really cool black leather jacket and then made up his face with make-up skin putty, fake blood, and aluminum foil. It came out really good! And my son had a blast.

What is your favorite Halloween icon? Why do you identify with its imagery?

Candy. Hah! Just kdding (not really). Hard to choose one. I love it all: Ghosts, Jack O’ Lanterns, witches, vampires, devils, and scarecrows. I supposed if I had to choose, it would be the witch. Love them so much I became one. Witches are mysterious, powerful female icons. We’ve been subjugated, ridiculed, imprisoned, and burned at the stake. Yet, the witch still stands. And still thoroughly enjoys all the wonders of Halloween.

If money and wherewithal were not an issue, what would be your dream way to spend Halloween?
All sorts of cool events take place worldwide: Haunted walks and underground tours, witches balls, ghostly hotels, cemeteries, and fun sites! If I had the money every Halloween I’d visit a new adventure and take a few of my fellow haunted friends with me.

YES, VIRGINIA, THERE BE VAMPIRES HERE


YES, VIRGINIA, THERE BE VAMPIRES HERE
-By Debbi Decker

Born in October of 1925, amidst the rubble and wreckage in a collapsed railway tunnel, he rose up and stumbled out of the smoke, a wraith-like silhouette against the fire lit sky. Those who hid in terror reported a visage of jagged and blood dripping teeth, skin shredded and hanging from the bones. A few hardier souls tracked the creature as he stumbled, moaning and keening, along the river and on to the cemetery where he disappeared into the entrance of a large Gothic tomb. Attempts to open the door of the tomb came to naught and the hysterical requests to the cemetery officials to open the tomb were denied. The gossip in the bars and homes in the days to come claimed the creature was a vampire. “How else?” they whispered. “How else can you explain the bloody teeth, never mind the entry into a sealed tomb?” The owners of the tomb did not stand idly by. “I heard they moved the family bones” a neighbor told another neighbor. “Had to have done it by day” the neighbor answered. Both nodded. Everyone knows that vampires sleep by day. No one questioned why the family did not destroy the vampire while it slept. With a stake to the heart. Isn’t that the usual way one dispatches a vampire?

Years passed and the legend passed along with them. Reports of strange noises from inside the tomb. Orbs and strange mists emanating from the doorway. Tales of Satanic activity and markings around the tomb. It is now 2015, and people still come from far and wide to view the Tomb of the Richmond Vampire.

As with all legends, there is some truth to this particular tale. A railway tunnel did collapse on the night of October 2, 1925 on Church Hill in Richmond, Virginia. A young man, Benjamin F. Mosby, managed to escape the wreckage bearing injuries much like the oft-described vampire in the tale. He was admitted to Grace Hospital, where he later died of his injuries. Not much is told of where Mr. Mosby was found or why he supposedly chose that particular tomb. William Wortham Poole was an upstanding citizen, a secretary/clerk who died at the venerable age of 80, and subsequently buried in the family tomb in 1922. Perhaps Mr. Mosby was trying to reach the river which travels along the cemetery borders. Perhaps he was only able to get as far as W.W. Poole’s tomb where he collapsed inside the dark entryway, thereby spawning the rumors that he disappeared into the tomb. To this day, there are still reports of strange noises and paranormal activity. Since we know Benjamin Mosby died at Grace Hospital, who (or what) prowls the shadows of the Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond, Virginia? I am personally of the opinion that we do not have a vampire here, but the rather pissed-off ghost of William Poole, wandering and cursing the tale that led to his, and his family members, removal from the august family tomb to parts unknown.

Photographs “Tomb Of The Richmond Vampire” and “Tomb Of The Richmond Vampire-original” provided by Crazed Poppet Creations and are copyrighted images. To contact Debbi Decker for purchase of these prints visit her website.

Debbi Decker is proprietor of Crazed Poppet Creations Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.

Please DO Feed the Ghosts


Please DO Feed the Ghosts
-By Debbi Decker

We are in the midst of a pretty dire season. We’ve only just made it past the dog days of summer and are thinking thoughts of fall, cooler weather, football, and our favorite of all holidays, Halloween. Don’t get too ahead yourself though. Right now you better be feeding the ghosts.

We are smack dab in the middle of a period that is recognized by the Buddhist tradition as the “Hungry Ghost Month”. Based upon the lunar calendar, this period usually starts in July. However, this year (2015) it started on August 14 and will end September 12.

Hungry Ghosts are believed to be the souls of the evil dead that reside in Hell, condemned, due to the sins they committed, to suffer eternity feeling hunger. Some souls will be hungry for wealth, some revenge, and some simply for food. Once a year, during the seventh lunar month, the gates of Hell are opened and these souls are released to roam the earth.

So, you are probably thinking that you have already missed half of the month and are saying “so what?” It is never too late to get on the right side of these spirits. Just as you ward your homes against the usual bad actors, you need to up the stakes during Hungry Ghost Month. Here are a few tips and things you can do to be sure that everyone is happy, both corporeal and incorporeal:

Burn fake money. Called “Hell Notes” or Joss paper. Do this in front of your home, your business, or anywhere else you want to protect. Never ever pick up any money you find on the ground during this period. That money belongs to the ghosts. Give money freely to charities and to the living during this time period.

Leave offerings of food and drink outside your home (be nice and use good plates and glassware). This should be left far enough away from your normal pathways so that you do not encounter any of the local wildlife that may investigate that tasty chicken leg. Never ever chase away any animals or bugs that might be near or on the offerings, and never touch the offerings after you have left them out for the spirits until the Hungry Ghost Month is over. Then you may clear away whatever is left. Do this respectfully, perhaps putting the remains in a compost pile. You may either destroy or ritually cleanse the plates and glassware and put all away for next year. I personally think it would be nice to have a small selection of pretty dinnerware and glassware to be used solely for rituals such as these.

Burn incense inside and outside the home. Rock salt sprinkled at doorways and on windowsills will keep the spirits from entering. Try not to conduct new important business or start new projects during this time. However, if a project or business venture was started before August 14, you can continue to move forward.

Never ever kill an unusual insect or bug inside your home during this time (roaches being the exception). It is believed that those unusual creepy crawlies could be reincarnations of your ancestors and they are simply stopping by to check things out and to say hello.

No whistling, going out alone at night, or hanging laundry out to dry. Any of these activities will bring attention to you and the spirits may decide they like you and move in. If that happens, you might have to have your home cleansed or exorcised by a professional. Wear a protective amulet during this time and have it cleansed when the period is over.

Following these tips will leave you unscathed, and the Hungry Ghosts will, with toothpicks in their mouths and money in their pockets, travel back to lounge on their couches in Hell to bet on a little after dinner football.

Sounds like Thanksgiving to me.

Debbi Decker is proprietor of Crazed Poppet Creations Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.

THREE CROWS CALLING


THREE CROWS CALLING
-By Debbi Decker

The crows were calling. One, two, three in a row in the tree. “Go away, we are not ready”. Selfish, really, when it is not us who has to be ready but rather the one they come for. We are never ready to let our loved ones leave.

The old ones tell you that three crows is a harbinger of death. The Morrigan has come. The Goddess of death and rebirth.

He stopped breathing several times and so the priest was called. Last rites spoken, holy water sprinkled. The rosary was placed around his neck. Some in the room believed, others did not. Still, we all hoped it would bring him peace.

They came the next night. Three shades passing through the room, invisible to our eyes but solid enough to block the glow of the small lights that were lit for his comfort. Three beings now standing guard and waiting. Sometimes they touched you. A sense of ice on your elbow. A gentle nudge against your leg. No way to tell who or what they were. Only that they were present and that he knew they were there. You could watch him whisper to them in his delirium and watch him listen to them as they spoke back.

I held his hand through most of his fight, not wanting him to ever feel alone. His was not an easy passing. He had much on his mind, worries for the rest of us, and things he wanted to say. Time laid heavy on us all as we watched him fight. No longer with us but not really gone from us either.

And at the end, I watched as he took his last breath and held him close as I said goodbye. The three crows calling in the early morning sun, while the three watchers stood around him to guide him on his way. I swear that on that morning I could feel him fly.

His journey here has ended but mine is just beginning. Because I now have to make sense of it all. Three crow calling, three shades passing. Who came to guide him on and who will come for me when my time comes? I trust that the essence of his soul has gone on to live in another life. My hope is that our souls will cross paths once again.

The meaning of three is that “all is given”, the past, present, and future. Birth, life, and death. The cycle has finished. And must begin again.

Debbi Decker is proprietor of Crazed Poppet Creations Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.

The Sin-Eater


The Sin-Eater?
-By Debbi Decker

A chapel room with walls of stone. It is an open room, with no doors and no glass in the windows. The night breeze flows, causing candles to gutter in the wall niches. Their flames cast odd moving shadows across the room.

In the center of the chapel room lies a body of a man on a raised stone bier. His clothing reflects his position in life, the gleam of gems in the scabbard that holds his sword speaks to his wealth.

There is nothing odd about this setting. Death has come to the village and the village mourns its own. Its inhabitants are no strangers to death. We all die. We all make our last confessions, are shriven, and laid out to rest in various poses according to our position in life. The poorest straight to the grave, the wealthiest given a last moment of glory in a chapel room.

But look closely at this man. There is a meal of roasted fowl and bread, and the last fruits of the season, resting on platters upon his chest. His hands hold a pewter goblet containing the best ale that his household can provide.

A movement at the door draws our eyes to a black cloaked figure, the face hidden deep within a hood. The figure sidles up behind the dead man. Raises his cloaked arms to the heavens. By the cadence and intonation of the mumbled words, we know he is praying. His arms slowly lower. He settles in. To eat. The meal laid upon the dead man’s chest. The fowl and bread disappear into the darkness of his hood. He drinks the ale. And once done, slowly creeps out the door. His face still hidden. You have no idea who he is.

The above scenario is a loosely written memory of a television show I saw as a young woman, and which was my fist introduction to what is known as a “Sin-Eater”. The idea caught my interest enough to research the facts behind story. Would this really have happened? Are there such things as Sin-Eaters? Turns out the answer is yes. There have been and, if the rumors are correct, still are in remote areas of the eastern U.S.

The origin of the practice of the ritual of eating sins remains unclear. It is possibly Germanic in origin, first coming to light in the Middle Ages. The Catholic Church denies such practices existed. And while the story above was a television episode and suspect in the details, there are, however, stories about the practice in England during the 17th and 18th centuries. An individual, for whatever reason, would take on the duties of a Sin-Eater. This person would partake of bread, salt, and wine (or some other beverage) which was left either on the deceased’s grave, or placed near the deceased, or even placed on the deceased’s chest. It was believed that the food would absorb the misdeeds of the dead and by eating that food, the Sin-Eater would absolve the soul of deceased and allow the individual to enter heaven. The Sin-Eater was always reviled and outcast in society. He (or she) would be considered unclean and shunned. In some cases, perhaps the identity of the Sin-Eater was not known. The cloak and hood would hide the identity, similar to the cloaking and masking of the plague doctors so that the public would not know who they were. They could practice their craft safely in anonymity.

It is interesting to note that there are later references in British history to the practice of passing bread and ale over the body of a loved one and given to a funeral attendant to eat. In Bavaria, the custom still exists of placing a corpse cake upon the chest of the deceased which is then eaten by the deceased’s closest relative. The Dutch practice of making dead cakes with the initials of the deceased was carried over to the United States during Colonial times. Each of these practices could be considered to have evolved from the practice of sin-eating.

During the 1800s, funeral biscuits were presented to mourners and bakeries competed against one another for orders of same. Lady Fingers (a type of sponge cake) were wrapped in papers that were printed with texts, poetry, and musings upon life and death. Special bowls, called “Mazer Bowls” were commissioned by the wealthy to hold the wine or ale that was given to mourners during the wake. The growth of the funeral industry stemmed these practices, and over time they have all but disappeared. Perhaps replaced in our present era by the family gatherings after the funeral. Almost all of these gatherings offer a meal or some kind of finger food to be served to the families and their guests.

Though few and far between, I have partaken at these latter day funeral “feasts”. It is not a custom that sits well with me. Sometimes knowledge can be an unsettling thing. Especially in my case. Because each time I allow myself a bite of the food presented I am, in the back of my mind, wondering just what sins or misdeeds I am taking on. And that is never a comforting thought.

Debbi Decker is proprietor of twistedpixelstudio Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.

The Will o The Wisp


The Will o’ The Wisp
-By Angelique Duncan

Will o’ the wisp quite literally meaning the will of the wisp. A thing that is completely hopeless yet perused despite the difficulty and even impossibility of ever finding or catching it. Wisp being a torch made from burning straw.

On nearly every continent a phenomenon exists that has never completely been explained: glowing lights that appear and hover over the ground. Most commonly they have been sighted in marshy places such as swamps, ponds and rivers although there are some regions where they have been seen in the thick of forest, in prairies and desert mountain ranges. Sometimes they are seen in cemeteries. Usually no bigger than a fist, although there have been reports of small lights the size of candle flames and others the size of a melon. The colors vary as well. Typically they are described as white with bluish or greenish tint, although yellows, oranges, violet and red lights have been seen. Despite the variations in the lights that have been described there are two universal consistencies to the phenomenon. First, these lights cannot be captured and when observed they seem to interact with the viewer by following or “leading them”. The second is that they are not completely explained by science.

Early theories explaining the lights are that they are formed from methane gas escaping from the earth and spontaneously combusting as it is released. A more sophisticated theory is that the lights form from a combination of phosphine, diphosphane and methane produced from decomposed organic matter and create phosphoric acid when in contact with water vapor and ignite by photons released when in contact with oxygen. These theories could account for glowing spheres seen in marshes and swampy areas.

Other theories are that the lights are an electrical phenomenon of random ball lightening formed from naturally occurring electricity in the air. One belief is that as fault lines move piezoelectric materials such as arsenic or quartz are heated and escape through water vapor causing an electrical reaction, a possible explanation for the lights seen over desserts and prairies if those elements are present.

The lights have been attributed to being the result of bioluminescence in which luciferin is released and reacts with oxygen to emit a greenish or bluish light. Bioluminescence occurs in fireflies and glowworms and a handful of other creatures and insects. Some fungus and algae’s produce this glowing affect attributing the occurrence of glowing spheres to spores being released in clusters causing the glow affect.

Perhaps to a certain degree one could say that any one of these scientific theories would be a sound explanation for the sightings of hovering glowing orbs over landscapes. Except that in some regions and continents where the will o’ wisp have been seen the aforementioned conditions aren’t present to create them. Another inconsistency is that the descriptions of the lights that have been reported are not exclusively consistent with the light effect that would be produced by the environments and reactions stated by the theories. Witnesses have claimed to see light emitting orbs that are bright enough to illuminate their surroundings and others claim to see faint translucent flickers with their light contained.

Other explanations exist explaining the will o’ the wisp. Their reason for being may be found in folklore and legend. It is widely believed across European counties that the wisps are faeries or magical elemental beings. Depending on the region the mysterious lights are interpreted through folklore as mischievous faeries that use their “fairy fire” to trick travelers into following them, only to leave them stranded in a bog or marsh far from the path the traveler was on. It is said the lights resemble torches or lanterns from a distance causing a lost traveler to be drawn to them in hopes of finding their direction back to their village. One of the most widely held beliefs is that they are faeries who either are mischievously attempting to trick travelers into following them, either to lead them to the faerie realm or merely to guide them from their path and cause confusion.

Others say the lights are not faeries, but wicked goblins of the Pooka or Puca variety whose intent is malicious and wish to kidnap or cause harm to humans by tricking a wandering traveler into following them to swampy places from where the person is never seen or heard from again.

Different versions of this mythology exist in Mexico, South America and Asia. The stories are nearly identical to the European tales yet the explanation as to what the lights actually are differs. In Mexico and South America, the lights are associated as witches casting spells, luring humans to follow them for sinister intent involving witchcraft.

In Asia the lights are believed to be the wandering spirits of the dead. Ghosts who have not passed into heaven, destined to stay on earth. The deviation of the story, being that the lights will appear over open waters to lead fishermen astray from shore. Some believing them to be the ghosts of dead fishermen or people who have drowned and whom wish to bring more souls underwater to live with them.

These stories of “ghost lights” corresponds with Norse and Scandinavian mythologies that the wisp are believed to be guardians of ancient graves, protecting them from desecration by leading people away from the burial spot. In many cultures spheres have been sighted in graveyards and cemeteries.
Some say they are the spirits of the dead looking for companionship by leading souls to their graves where the lights trick them into the misfortune of staying. A similar folklore states that the lights are a warning of a pending death and that a funeral will be held soon. Some traditions tell that the lights will appear close to buried treasure and if one is brave enough to follow the light and survive they will be rewarded with the riches. No one to date has returned from following the floating lights bearing treasure.

In Europe another common theory is that the floating lights are the souls of unbaptized children forced to stay on earth until they receive baptism. The legend goes that a man of faith came across three unbaptized travelers who asked to be baptized and when the man went to baptize them the souls of all the un-saved children of the earth appeared with hopes to pass into heaven. The man spent the entire night baptizing souls until the sun rose. Those who he did not baptize that night are said to be the lights of unbaptized children who wander the earth.
A variation to the myth is that the lights are the souls of scoundrels not allowed into heaven and rejected by hell. Many cultures associate the will of the wisp with the origins of Jack o’ lanterns, that the lights are souls who are trapped in a cold dark hell on earth and have been given only a lump of coal to light their way and keep warm.

Not all mythologies surrounding the wisps are foreboding. Some stories tell that the lights are benevolent in nature. Pixie lights are pixies who live in the deep of woods who if treated kindly and with respect will help lead a lost traveler who has gone astray back to the path home. Hence the meaning the will of the wisp in that only the barrier of the wisp torch will decide one’s fate.

Sightings of explained lights that hover over water and land have been documented through out history and sightings continue to modern day. As to what or who they are there is no solid single explanation. Perhaps they are the elegant result of chemicals and electrical phenomenon. Maybe they are something ancient and enchanting. There isn’t a definitive answer, thus the will o’ the wisp remains a mystery, and that in and of itself is something magical.

Image “Will Of the Wisp” Copyright Michelle Angelique Duncan

Angelique Duncan is proprietor of Twilight Faerie Nostalgic and Capricious Objects. Check out her artist page to find links to her shops and vintage inspired traditional holiday art. Visit again next month for more traditions and folklore.

What Time Is It?


What Time Is It?
-By Debbi Decker

My mother passed recently and I had been spending time at her house, cleaning and gathering things to send to Goodwill and other charitable organizations. Towards the end of a 6-day stay, I was still trying to understand why the house felt so “clear”. It was not an after effect felt by me due to my mother’s death. I had noticed from the moment I walked in that the house felt empty. As if no one had ever lived there. I was confused, curious, and a bit unnerved. Houses imprint. Unless the place is brand spanking new, there are going to be elements that will resonate with everyone. I even commented to several family members and friends about the emptiness that I felt. My brother commented that he could feel it too but he felt that it would change.

The last full day I was there, I spent the day alone cleaning and sorting until late afternoon. I stepped out to get a bite to eat and to wind down from my busy day. After finishing my meal and checking the day’s e-mails, I decided to kick back in a very comfortable recliner in the living room and read until it was time to head to bed. Within a few minutes of reading, I began feeling a sense of heaviness in the atmosphere. As the evening wore on, and the sense of heaviness increased, I several times stop reading, looked around and tried to figure out exactly what I was feeling. The house was now occupied by someone or something other than me. I was not able to figure out who or what it was, but as the feeling got stronger I began to sense that it did not quite like me being in the house. It was not a hateful or hurtful feeling, but more of a “why are you here and you need to leave” kind of feeling.

At that point, I figured I would head to my room, read some more and then try to get some sleep. I noticed the digital clock at my bedside nightstand was not working. Thinking it was a battery issue, I went into my mother’s bedroom and rustled up some batteries and inserted them into the clock. The clock would light up, and then within 2 seconds the numbers would appear to melt from the top to the bottom and the clock would stop working. I fiddled with the clock trying to fix it for several minutes and it continued to react in the same manner. Assuming that the clock was broken, I went back into my mother’s bedroom to get a clock that was on her dresser. This clock, although battery operated, was not digital, had hour, minute, and second hands, and was running but the time was wrong. I reset the time and the clock stopped working. Again, I inserted fresh batteries, but nothing changed. That clock would not run either.

Now, I was two clocks down, with a house that was feeling creepier and heavier by the minute. I was frustrated and starting to get a bit edgy. Both clocks were put on my mother’s dresser in her room. I had to have a clock that worked though. It was important to me that night that I be able to see the time at any moment. Eventually, I found a small clock that was working, placed it on the nightstand beside my bed, and proceeded to read until my eyes were blurry. I was unable to get any sleep that night. It was a doze off, wake up, and repeat kind of night. I never did turn off the lights. And I was NOT leaving that room. For whatever reason, my room felt the least strange of all of the rooms in the house that night.

Morning came, and I managed a sleep-deprived stagger into the kitchen to make some coffee and get ready for the day. My sister was due early to assist with the sorting of mom’s clothes and further cleaning out of closets. Although the house felt a bit better than it had the night before, there was still a sense of occupancy and some heaviness.

My sister arrived and we began our day. Going back into mom’s bedroom to retrieve some items we needed, I happened to glance at my mother’s dresser. Both clocks were up and running perfectly, with the right time displayed on both! The heaviness I’d sensed the night before seemed now to be centralized in my mother’s bedroom. I quietly walked out and shut the door behind me.

I’m sure you can imagine all the swear words I was speaking under my breath. I let whatever or whoever it was that messed with those clocks the night before know that I was not amused. And I left a day earlier than originally planned and drove home.

Debbi Decker is proprietor of twistedpixelstudio Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.

Living On the Other Side.


Living On the Other Side.
-By Debbi Decker

Have you ever had a dream that felt upon waking so real that you could swear it was happening in real life? Traveled in your dreams to a place that felt so natural and real that you knew where you were going and recognized the places you went in the dream?

I do this. All the time. And have done so since I was a small child. I have vivid memories of dreams that occur in locations that I can map out for you and give you directions of where to go in those places. When I visit these locations in my dreams, I usually enter them at the same “entrance”, although after arrival I may visit a different spots within these places. Just like visiting a well-loved place in real time, my dream locations are full of variable weather patterns, textures, scents, landscapes, tastes and people. I come off the “exit ramp” into my dream worlds and go on to visit just like I would in waking life.

Strange you say? It gets even stranger. What about having a dream friend that you seem to see on a regular basis and have continual adventures with them?

I have a special friend that visits me frequently in my dreams. Each dream is a different dream, but always there is a sense of knowing, of peaceful togetherness, and total happiness that we are together. I get that feeling not just from me but from my friend too. There is never a sexual element but there is a sense of completeness. I always wake up from these visits with a smile on my face and overflowing happiness that will last for days. I will not give a detailed scenario of any of these dreams here since really the details only have resonance and meaning to me and would not really bring you any greater level of understanding or belief.

How to explain this? I am no stranger to dreams. I have studied them since I was a young girl, and understand the concept of the who, what, and why of how they occur. I do dream interpretation for others who are curious about their dreams and what they could possibly mean. The science is not lost on me. What IS lost to me, however, is how these dreams are so real to the point that I can still, more than a year after one particular dream, still feel the weave of my friend’s shirt on my fingertips in my waking state.

Some people would say that these are manufactured scenarios that my subconscious mind has cobbled together in order to send a message to me. Some would say that I am a lonely individual who feels the need to have interaction with someone even if it only occurs in my dream state. I reject these explanations out of hand simply because I have investigated these possibilities many many times in an effort to explain this phenomena. After all, I am a Virgo. It is second nature to dig deep, analyze, and find answers to questions presented. I am also a fairly social person with various types of relationships in my life and am finally at a place in life where I am pretty much happy and content with myself and my lifestyle. Sure, there are things I would change, as anyone would. That’s why the caveat “pretty much”. If I were to be completely content, there would be no room for growth and new things. So “pretty much” is actually a great state to be in.

So, yes, I do not subscribe to the theories given above. The main reason is that after receiving a dream visit from my friend, upon waking there is no yearning, no sadness, no wishing for” what if?”. These visits are full of detail, sensory perceptions, and activity. Not all of these dreams are completely happy. Sometimes we have moments of sadness or difficulties just as anyone would in real life. There are no nightmares here. No strange beings, fantastical beasts or fantasy. Just living a normal life on the Other Side.

Given my personal spiritual beliefs, I believe that my friend is my soul mate who, throughout time, has been with me and will continue to be with me, no matter who I become or who my friend becomes. There is a deep love between us. We played together in my dreams as children, and grew up together. We share our feelings and the details of our lives on this side. Once, in a dream, I told my friend that I was old. My friend, said “No, you are not. You are you.”

Perhaps I am crazy. Who cares? After hearing that comment by my friend in that dream, I would not trade crazy for the world. Would you?

Debbi Decker is proprietor of twistedpixelstudio Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.

A Phantom Smell.


A Phantom Smell.
-By Debbi Decker

I am an empath. I won’t bore you with all of details and descriptions of what that entails. You can find all kinds of information on the internet. Being an empath, I am very familiar with the idea of Clairempathy (the ability to feel emotions, illnesses, etc. that are not visual). I am also very familiar with Clairvoyance (the ability to perceive in my mind’s eye the past, present, and future). My mind has a tendency to connect with people and basically be on the same page with them without ever having a conversation with them. I can walk into a room and immediately feel what has just occurred without even looking at anyone in the room. If I am around negative people or sick people for long periods of time, I begin to feel ill. I have moments of vivid thoughts that turn out to be predictions of coming events. While unnerving to many, it’s a normal way of life for me. I’ve written before about what I call the “Clairs”. Clairempathy and Clairvoyance are the two that frequently happen to me. The others not so much.

My first visit to New Orleans post-Katrina was for Halloween, in October of 2006. While a full year had passed since that catastrophic event, there was still a great deal of anguish present in the atmosphere, some of it human, and some of it… “other”. You could feel the stress of the residents and workers in the Quarter. Hotels were understaffed as were most restaurants, and the seafood industry was still in a flux. I spent a great deal of time taking pictures in the Quarter, and in the cemeteries just outside of the Quarter. Bus and cable car service to the Garden District or to the Canal Street cemeteries on the far outskirts of the City were still not in operation. The Quarter was safe. The rest of New Orleans was not. Case in point. My hotel was housing some of the private security teams that went out each day to the various Wards to stand guard and to prevent looting and other nefarious activities. Picture a hotel full of men garbed in black, carrying an array of weapons. Think Swat teams.

It was easy enough during the days to keep myself from being overwhelmed (Clairempathy) with the anguish and stress that the others around me were feeling. I have to do that on a daily basis anyway. Still, there was that subtle undertow of “other” that concerned me. Katrina had stirred something. And it was not a happy something. It had a darkness and sadness to it that I had never before experienced in New Orleans, though it is well known that the area is steeped in dark history, bloodshed, crimes, and natural disasters. Sunset during that visit brought an extreme sense of urgency. I had to get indoors. Whatever I was feeling was not good. The Quarter has always been a fairly safe place to roam and I have done so at all hours of the night (something I would never attempt in my own city!). And remember, this was Halloween – a time when the veils and doorways are open. Lots of things travel back and forth in the ether during Halloween. So, while I was able to block the sensations during the day, the nights left me feeling raw and over exposed.

Halloween morning brought me down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. As I was reading the menu, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of fire. It had a reminiscent tang of a campfire or the scent of wood burning in an open space and very strong. Glancing around I found no visible smoke, no smoking restaurant patrons, and no fireplace in the room or anything else that could be giving off that odor. My waiter must have noticed my consternation and confusion because he came over to ask me if I was all right. I asked him if he could smell smoke. He did not and after confirming that there were no fireplaces in the vicinity, nor was there ever a smokehouse or a fire in the building, I let it go. Because at that point, my waiter was looking concerned. I went on to order and eat my breakfast, enveloped in the phantom smell of fire the entire time. I took note of the fact that upon leaving there was no smell of smoke outside of the restaurant, nor did I smell smoke when I ventured outdoors. This was my first experience of Clairscent or the ability to perceive phantom scents or odors.

My plans for that day were to visit St. Roch Cemetery and I was particularly excited to be seeing the chapel dedicated to St. Roch. Since the cemetery is located a few blocks outside of the French Quarter, and in an area affected by Katrina, I felt it was best to take a cab to my destination. The neighborhood itself was not safe, but there would be other tourists around, so I was not concerned about being in the cemetery alone (are you ever REALLY alone in a cemetery?)

My cabbie dropped me at the entrance and gave me his phone number to call when I was ready to leave. He expressed some concern about me being by myself, assured me that there would be a caretaker on the grounds, and wanted to be sure I was able to get back to the Quarter safely. I spent several hours taking pictures and sat in the chapel for a while mourning the fact that the altar and statue of St. Roch had been damaged by the floods from the broken levies. To call this chapel interesting is somewhat of an understatement. The walls are covered in offerings and Milagros left by patrons who have experienced miraculous healings in the chapel (some very recent healings too). The floor is made of bricks, all of which say “thanks” in English and French. St. Roch’s head rested in the chapel side room among the relics and Milagros, and his headless torso stood guard outside the chapel door.

Right across the street from the cemetery entrance stood a shotgun cottage tattooed with that unforgettable graffiti of numbers and dashes representing the number of dead found on the scene after Katrina and the date of search. Water lines clearly indicated the depth of the flood waters it had endured. It was difficult to get a photograph of the cottage due to the traffic passing constantly in front of it, blocking the view and I gave up trying. In retrospect I wish I HAD taken a picture, good or bad. The cottage also made me uncomfortable, though I cannot explain why. I suppose you could put it down to the graffiti on the wall but that explanation has never resonated with me. After all, I had spent the last year grieving deeply for my City and had seen too many pictures and news stories for it to have just been my reaction to the general leftover aura of Katrina.

Dinner that evening was a hurried affair. I had hoped to watch the Halloween parade in the Quarter but it would not start until after sunset and my intuition was to get indoors. Something just did not feel right and I was not interested in figuring out why. I would leave that to the local Voodiennes to suss out. Entering my room after dinner, I turned on the television which just happened to be tuned to a local news station giving a live update. There, on the screen, was the shotgun cottage that I had just viewed only hours ago, engulfed in flames, and surrounded by firefighters pouring water on the structure. I was stunned. It clicked. The smell of smoke….

To this day, I believe that the phantom smoke I was smelling was a precursor to that event. I did check back frequently to see if there was an update at to the cause of the fire, but I never learned anything. After all, the City had a lot on its hands and a follow up on an abandoned cottage burning to the ground was probably low on its list of priorities. If there was a message, I do not understand what it was. If there was a lesson, I have yet to figure it out. It could have all been coincidence but again, there is no resonance. I cannot explain what happened but that phantom smell of smoke and the subsequent burning of that cottage haunts me to this day. Perhaps that was where the feeling of darkness emanated. The house was grieving deeply, ready to say goodbye, and it chose me to deliver its eulogy.

Debbi Decker is proprietor of twistedpixelstudio Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.

Walpurgisnacht. It’s coming. The doors are opening. Are you ready?


Walpurgisnacht. It’s coming. The doors are opening. Are you ready?
-By Debbi Decker

Directly opposite Halloween on the calendar, the night April 30 is the other day of the year when the barriers are down between our world and the other side. Things slip through, ghosts are walking, and those who are in the know are casting spells and divining the future. And much like Halloween, there are bonfires to drive away the evil, and in some countries, pranks are played on the unwary.

“Walpurgis” is the name of an 8th century German nun who preached against witchcraft and was later canonized as a saint in 779 AD. Because her saint day was near the time of an ancient Viking festival of spring, the two celebrations were combined into the Catholic calendar to create Walpurgisnacht (nacht is the German word for night).

Walpurgisnacht is celebrated in many European countries as the last night the witches could gather before spring/summer took hold on the land and the sun was at its most powerful. Masking, the wearing of talismans, and the use of Holy Water were some of the ways people used to ward off the evil that could cross over from the other side. Scarecrows (straw men) were also made, spells were cast upon them to draw in all the bad luck and evil from the previous year and then thrown in the bonfires to burn and hopefully bless the New Year going forward.

Because the doors to the other side are open, this is also a night to communicate with the spirits and seek guidance for the coming year. Sit outside under a tree during this night and you may hear the bells of the Faerie Queen as she rides by looking for mortals to take to her realm. Burn a special incense that has a floral scent and pass tokens of special meaning to you to cleanse them and make them powerful for the coming year. If Walpurgisnacht coincides with a full moon, take a bowl of water that has been blessed with the smoke of fire, and carry it outside to gather the moon’s rays. This powerful water can be bottled and used in rituals throughout the remainder of the year.

And, since the next morning is Beltane (May 1), once you have completed your Walpurgisnacht rituals, go out at dawn to gather the morning dew to wash your face. Your complexion will be magical and flawless for the remainder of the year!

Debbi Decker is proprietor of twistedpixelstudio Art & Assemblage Emporium. Check out her artist page to find links to her shop and blog to read more of her writings. Visit again next month for the telling of hauntings and ghostly tales by Debbi Decker.