Witch Tribute #1: Oh What A World, What A World!

As if the debate wasn't scary enough, my strangerfriend, Dan-the-man, at The Stank Nasty, is posting a plethura of scary movie clips. He's got them all including the freakiest, most disturbing, trailer from "The Exorcist" I've ever seen. I imagine he is gearing up for some disgusting cinematic crescendo toward Halloween. Well, I think this is a wonderful idea. And because today I seem incapable of having an original thought of my own, I will follow suit.

You can add copy cat to your list of explicatives.

Instead of ticking off the clock before Halloween with scary movies, I will do it with ... witches. Big ones, small ones, fat ones, and tall ones. I've been called one, felt like one, and look like one frequently. I've cast spells like one, had 'em bounce back like one, and felt regrets like one ... even if it's only regret for having my hair messed up by the open window in the van. At work there are times when I must act like one, at home I get chewed out for being one, and my friends all wonder if I used to be one. I have at least one nemesis out there who maintains the belief that I truly am a witch, and gives me credit for a wide array of unfortunate events in her life, as if I had some insidious form of black magic at my disposal, and was bored enough to direct it at her.

Oh please.

I firmly believe that deep down, every woman is a witch, and every witch is wise. I've done a number of artistic pieces reflecting that belief. Here is one of my favorites. The original is a pen and ink piece, 16x24, done with dots, in 1999 ... the "Green Witch" (as its titled) holds her pentegram inlaid with the imagery from the tarot; the sword, the staff, the heart, and the flame, which is eternal. This work is inspired by a book on Faerie Magick.

So, with that, I'll begin the Sapphokinesis Halloween Countown with one of my all time favorite witches, The Wicked Witch of the West. At first, she seems a one dimensional, monochromatic parody of evil, perpetually doomed to play second fiddle to the effervescent Glinda, who will forever reign as a gay icon. I mean, you can't walk down the Castro in San Francisco without seeing Glinda's condescending smile beaming down at you from a greeting card. Then, the author Gregory McGuire helped us get to know The Witch in his book, "Wicked". Once that became a broadway musical, The Witch got a name, Elphaba, and a personal mythos, and shortly thereafter she became an icon herself.

She was a modern woman, this witch, who was unable to recover from a broken heart. When she got hung up on the wrong thing, she simply couldn't swing back.

And what was it she got hung up on? Booze, drugs or sex? No.

It was shoes.

A pair of ruby slippers.