Demonwick.
A while ago, I promised you a lesson on flame.
It’s actually a lesson on candles, which you badly need, since they’re important.
A lit candle connects you with every other lit candle, ever. It is the only flame lit small and dedicated to sacred things. Forget birthdays and their arbitrary oppression, forget you ever blew one out while it was mounted on a cake. This is a sacrilege.
Never light a candle without a reason, even if it’s simply light you need, don’t waste them. How did it light? Did it leap to life ready to speak or did you have to coax it into being? Be patient with it. Look carefully at the flame, they may all look alike but every one is different. Be in the dark with it and notice the quality of the light it casts, how far is the circle, can you fit in it?
Is it friendly to you? Bring it to a mirror and see. Think of this flame as your visitor, for its brief life, since it is. Think of it also as a bit of time immemorial, a constant throughout all ages, the Darkest lit only by its ambiguous beauty. Fire is always friend or foe, nothing in between, in your candle it’s still deciding. Be good to it. Watch it dance.
When it’s time for the candle to be put to sleep, take your time, blow it out as gently as you can, close to. Try not to disturb any head that may have formed on your wick, this is a demon come to rest there, like a bird with tired wings. Watch it carefully, it must spend its energy and if you are lucky, you will be given a light show. Impossible to describe, you must watch your glowing wick, don’t take your eyes off it. It’s like lightning, so fast, so hard to capture on film. A thin sharp line, like a snake made of fire, dancing its death agonies for you, when you look. Beautiful dances, utterly unpredictable, the picture above captures a demon in full delirium, Agatha has already claimed it for a spell.
If you have no head, watch the glow disappear, also unique and absorbing, or watch the smoke and let the truly Random mesmerize you. All spiraling smoke is breathtaking, never miss such beauty and grace in action.
All this, every time you light it.
If you’re lucky you might be gifted with a Dragonwick, like the one you will see in my new Gallery of Wicks. This kind is rare and my Scribe more than earned it. Her candles are hand-rolled beeswax, with braided wicks that like to show off. There’s an artist hiding in every beeswax candle, along with a tiny soul, a rebellious heart, a latent power, a portal for something like me.
Who has so much beauty in their life that they can afford to scorn it in such a simple form? A curious mind might find them irresistible, like my Scribe who always has a candle lit, and the time to watch it’s magical death.
Do it for the god- do it for Me. Do it for you.
“Birds of Paradise” by Gisli Gunnarsson, who attracts the Devil’s notice these days.