Greetings, dear readers! I can finally officially reveal the cover for my upcoming book, Seal, Sigil, & Call. I was overjoyed to be involved in its design, and hope it is evocative of the techniques that await within. Seeing the cover for my book makes the idea of its existence more manifestly tangible.
Writing a book is, paradoxically, at once a very personal and very private endeavor. On the one hand, the process involves long nights over a keyboard, adding a paragraph here, changing a word there, questing for the clearest way to communicate a concept without compromising the character of the work. It is the act of summoning the innermost details of my very personal practice and manifesting them, first on a screen and then on paper. I have consolidated decades of notebooks seen by no eyes but mine, writing alone about a practice I engage in alone.
On the other hand, I have engaged in this endeavor for the express purpose of sharing these previously private things. I am opening a door into my practice and inviting in others, in the sincere hope they will glean benefit from it. If some part of my work can assist one person in enhancing their own practice and improving their experience of reality, I will count the project a success. At the same time, I have lived a very private life. While I have dabbled in some theatrical pursuits, and written more than a few poems, I have focused on my ritual art and have not pursued any of these other avenues with the same zeal. I have focused on my practice, the foundations of which I communicate in this book. The fact that other individuals will soon be exposed to that practice, that I may be in a position to speak about it with others who also practice it, has not yet settled in to residence in my mind.
I have also found that manuscripts, for me, are like cups of tea, I cannot limit myself to one. Before the first physical copy of this work has been bound, I already hear the rising susurration of ideas for what to work on next.