I

Praxis

This short monograph serves as a celebration of both the Art and Arte of Austin Osman Spare and where there are many excellent biographical studies it is not our intention to add one more to the list. Rather we would celebrate as a present day initiate who having applied themselves to a lifetime of study and application has forged text, image and sigil into Axiomata. This term has been defined clearly by others and we define here in our own terms.

Unlike many the present scribe claims no deep knowledge of the life of Austin Spare and as to his texts we have but a passing acquaintance. His art is not unknown to us but again we have not been an avid student or collector of such. In short what we know of Spare, compared to many is little.

My own awareness of Spare began in the 1980’s when I encountered his Book Of Pleasure as a consequence of being a passionate student of the arch mage Crowley and was particularly struck by the simplicity of his sigil system and the insight he presented given the conscious and unconscious aspects of mind that he alluded to. Being at the time a student of psychology I was struck by the relationship between his premises and those of analytical psychology. Being inquisitive I set about developing experience in the construction and utiisation of simple sigils and was particularly taken with the notion of free energy, which to my understanding at the time implied that energy contrary to desire could be deployed to achieve the opposite and desired result.

It was during my sojourn in the Typhonian OTO of the time that my interest was galvanized and consummate with the degree syllabus became imaginative and inventive in regard of ritual and sigil. One example will serve to clarify. In the instance of the Firesnake as described in Liber HHH, section SSS I elected to place the rite in its appropriate context and applied myself to the practice from a yogic perspective, the asana, pranayama and mental approaches were supplemented by the sigillisation of the major charkas.

Spare’s principle of inbetweenness also intrigued as it shared much in common with Crowley’s paradox theorem wherein two mutually, apparently, contradictory elements could be entertained by the mind. To walk between principles is to enter freedom and as a consequence enter the path of the initiate. Whereas Crowley’s principle appealed to the intellectual and theoretical, Spare’s principle was far more

visceral due to its innate connection to *atavistic intrusions. Whilst Spare’s

paradigm fleshed itself in robes consummate to his nature it is to the field of non differentiated being that we cast our gaze if we are to comprehend what to the artistic and poetic mind is the nature of, so called, reality. Gods, spirits, entities whilst embracing qualities and characteristics are none the less creatures of a nature

we call **Egregore. [ see our text The Selim for further on the matter ] The

foundation of the Sigil Arte lays within this understanding and like all, albeit rare, artist initiate Spare grasped this completely. The grasping of such has a tendency to alienate this order of being from the common occultist and as a result they become withdrawn and narcissistic, evident in Spare’s case during the latter part of his life and brought to focus in his text Anathema. Perhaps I reflect my own case upon the backdrop of Spare and if this is the case profound apologies are extended.

To summarise. Trafficking with wider and deeper levels of consciousness is the described methodology of OTO and whilst this is, in the main, pursued with diligence there are natural consequences inherent. Through this pursuit a transformation in the consciousness of the individual operator occurs in time. We begin as simple aspirants to the Arte and during the process evolve into a rarified state of perception, this is a natural consequence of our pursuit and whilst it may lead us to embark upon an journey into the exotic we must never lose sight of our humble origins. To fail in this leads to inflation and the tendency to be consumed by power. Our only option lies in the bifurcation of the self where we operate simultaneously as an individual and all that implies and as an Avatar in respect of our work and its unfolding purpose. The principle of Neither/Nor applied here creates a logic path wherein we hold simultaneously mutually conflicting ideas in a semblance of balance. Holding the paradox becomes a natural state of being.

What brings us to this state and understanding? Experience. Many years ago the present scribe encountered one of the many abstract constructs it is our lot to stumble upon along the way, namely –

In The Presence Of Extraordinary Reality Consciousness Takes The Place Of Imagination

The words Consciousness, Imagination and Reality demand investigation yet here I choose to be brief leaving it to the reader to arrive at their own understanding. In respect of my present purpose I will describe Imagination as a bubble of protection that enables us to dream of possibilities whilst remaining firmly fixed in what has been called Reality. The Imagination is supported by thought and speech and remains the property of the conscious mind or first Attention as described by Toltec’s. [ For further information – The Toltec teachings by Carlos Castaneda and

his cohorts and A Toltec Witness by the present scribe will shed much light upon the subject ] 99% Of our endevours remain within the realm of the imagination and serves as the means by which we remain firmly affixed to the world as perceived as Reality.

To make the quantum leap is rare and whilst not impossible demands dramatic

exertion on or part. The ***Axiomata become a vital pursuit in the process of

transformation whereupon we enter, in truth, the realm of Consciousness, defined in this instance as direct experience and the knowledge that stems from this.

All Else Is A Dream And We A Dream Within That Dream

*Atavistic – Relating to something ancient or ancestral.

**Egregore – An entity created by and having an influence upon an individual or

group of individuals.

***Axiomata – The fusion of the heart, mind, body and will, brought to a focus

and fleshing itself in the vessel of Art & Arte via Image, Sigil and Text. In conjunction forming the body of Axiomata De Arte Magicka.

A cypher wrought in glyph and sigil. Fleshed by bloodbeat and heart’s pulse. Echoes the timelessness of other. Other cast adrift upon ink black night, yields to starlight and the breath it takes. Until yet again by hand and eye is once more cast upon the eternal aethyrs.

Drink deep from the stream lest your form evaporates into the void from whence you came.

Breathe deeply of the intoxication that holds you bound by blood and bone.

Think deeply upon the thoughts that carry you from ecstasy to ecstasy through the tapestry of appearance.

Liber Sigillum vel Daath

Ophidian Gnosis

II

Axiomata

De Arte Magicka Described by Spare as The Alphabet Of Desire where the fecundity of desire is polarized within the realm of the unconscious to multiply and manifest in accordance with the Sorcerer’s will. When the conscious mind possessed of will conceives of a purpose, fulfills this with the appropriate rite and literally forgets, the realm of Inbetweenness is entered where non differentiation is the natural state, a vast reservoir is

drawn upon. Whilst this is granted to all with the will to pursue such a methodology

there is an underlying principle that is overlooked by many. *The conscious

attention whilst serving as an excellent *guardian can through ideation become a

ruthless guard that would protect its ward to the point of death. When usurped a schism can ensue whereon a bubble of consciousness is formed and reflected upon the mirror of memory which whilst possessing all the characteristics of the individual

does so absent its innate power. This state is attended by *Clarity, the knowing of

a thing absent the understanding of a thing. To circumnavigate this tendency is one of the many tasks faced by the aspirant upon the path of initiation. All fail ultimately and yet our nature compels us to pursue our intent. This we gloss as

*Folly and the only choice that remains to us is to exercise *Controlled Folly.

*The curious might choose to explore the Toltec teachings as outlined by Carlos

Castaneda, Taisha Abelar, Florinda Donner Grau and the present scribes A Toltec Witness for clarification of these statements.

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At the outset of formulating Sigils a simple rubrik is outlined, formulate a desire in a sentence, remove all repeated letters and of the remaining craft a graphik representation. It is left to the imagination of the practitioner as to how this graphik might be consecrated and empowered. The simple line or curve of a letter suffices and were one to remove the repeated line or curve a sigil of profound simplicity may be crafted. This method, graphik in effect represents but one approach. The present scribe has employed, over time, various methods, erasure, subliminal processing and somatic trance to name but three. These methods crude and simple at the outset of practice naturally evolve into far more sophisticated vehicles as the Arte begins to reveal itself. The only

limitation that exists lies in the imagination of the individual practitioner and Spare was a practitioner without equal. At the outset of this brief exploration we stated in the title of the text the words An Impression, one we feel to be expressed by an aspirant to the Art & Arte who by diligence naturally evolved an understanding by virtue of work and application, all else is academic and as such rumour.

Spare did indeed brew a heady and intoxicating elixir, sometime venom with the fusion of his innate artistic skill, his ability to enter states of otherness, his profound insight into human psychology and his knowledge of the arcane arts. In truth few if any could truly comprehend the man yet alone the sorcerer and as such he is consigned to the hall of legend. There are exceptions and this brief exploration would be remiss if it were not to acknowledge the excellent work carried out by a small body of present day practitioners. Notably –

Frater Aossic Aiwass who through his Images & Oracles presented the man and his work to the public. Andrew D. Chumbley, his natural successor. Gavin W. Semple whose excellent text Zos Kia outlined an initiated insight into the Art & Arte.

Cultus Sabbati with whom I had a passing acquaintance but in essence know little of and mention out of respect for this body and its members.

Numerous publishers whose finely crafted books present the man and his work as I believe he would have appreciated. Namely – Fulgur. Xoanon, specific to Cultus Sabbati. Starfire Publishing of whom I have fond memories.

In respect of the above their work maintains interest and without them the world of the occult would be impoverished.

… … … She stands before Ely sheaved in the glyphs and images that the vulgar call tattoos. These sigils my dearest one I received upon my seventh summer and now it is your fate to join us. The air stills and Morgan opens a singularity, a portal formed of her own flesh and upon the air dancing in rapture seven Elven crease the night with their presence. Be at ease my Ely for the ones you see before you are our kin, given form by the love in our hearts and with that love they will prepare you for their bodies are the instruments that will script your flesh and their essence the ink that will carve into your soul the alphabet of our kind. Ely feels a gentle breeze ruffle his hair as one by one the Elven pass through his flesh, travel to the very core of his being and evaporate into his form. A warmth pervades Ely as one by one the Elven begin the dance that unfolds the making and they begin to sing and join the chorus that is now the voice of Morgan. What seems an eternity passes and rising as if from a swoon Ely sits in rapture as he examines the lines of his flesh. Upon his chest twin serpents, indigo and gold writhe with sinuous vitality. These, my son will grant you wisdom, swiftness and the ability to create a nectar sweet and a venom bitter, which will serve as your protection. Upon each thigh etched in amber light a golden hare and a dragonfly sit gazing at each other. The golden hare will grant you the ability to travel between the realms whilst the dragonfly will gift you

Long ago was the battle fought and won

When life and death stood upon opposing shores

and glimpsed each other

Death looked upon life and smiled whilst life like a maiden shy upon her bed of roses

coyly looked aside

with invisibility. One more tattoo remains, a red inverted triangle adorns his abdomen at its centre a golden mote, the heart of a star and etched around it cyphers in a tongue unknown to Ely. Khephren Ma Un Nefer Ast, intones Morgan. The Elven upon hearing this coalesce into a single being, a whisper of farewell creases the air and they depart and return to whence they came. The final tattoo is the source of our power and in time you will learn of its use for the future is but dimly perceived by us at this time. Ely rises from the floor brushing the sand and rose petals from himself, wraps himself in a cowl of midnight stars and taking Morgan’s hand understands. This rite, whispers Morgan, will take place each eve of your birthtime until your thirteenth summer and then your preparations will be complete and the quickening will begin. Hand in hand Ely and Morgan leave the chamber descend the steps and passing through the wall hanging depicting our lady Artemis and leaving the palace, enter the night and on the cliff tops beneath a sky sewn with diamonds join Ybrim who sits beside a fire and upon a cloth of silver a feast is prepared in celebration of the event and the moment… … …

Extract – Ely A Grigori Tale

Not to you do I speak, brave of heart and firm of purpose.

Nor to you bright ones within a field of light. Not to you who walks in

purpose fulfilled. Nor to you of vision strong, buoyed by life’s enrichment.

But to you I speak wanderer upon the shores of night. And to you the

desolate ones outside the circles of life. Raised upon columns

of molten ash.

Your journey began with a cry and ends with a scream. Betwixt the emptiness evolved. First a doubt

becomes a certainty. Those of faith know you not.

Those of vision know you not. Those of purpose know you not.

Within the citadel of life do they dwell, basking beneath an

indolent sun.

III

Zos Kia

Zos the goatherd spoke eloquently from The Boundary Lands with the words of his Anathema. Words which, in part, depict a crucial milestone upon the path of initiation. Up to a certain point there is the choice of turning and returning to whence you had come. Beyond that point choice no longer remains an option. Crowley experienced this moment with the transmission of Liber Al vel Legis and Spare with the crafting of his Anathema. Many might disagree but as stated before this is the Impression I have received, borne of experience rather than academic pursuit. At this point I would choose to examine some of the evocative vocabulary employed within the mythos outlined by

him. Zos himself, a perfect depiction as the goatherd upon his mountain, a natural rendition of the spirit of Capricornus of which he was a native. The symmetry and poetry of this is perfect. Kia, the very spirit of such, cast into mortal flesh and traversing The Vale Of Tears questing for the vision that releases the soul into its natural environment, eternity. Thanatos, simply, the depiction of Death. Again a highly personalized glyph given the nature of Saturnus the natural ruler of Capricornus. Death and Life, the great protagonists that speak through the archetypes to each and all as weave the tapestry that is our life. Agape & Eros, divine and human love that polorise themselves in our innate quest for completion in both our exotic pursuits and those of the flesh wherein we are redeemed. The principles of The Varma Marg shed much light on the fusion of these pursuits being not mutually exclusive as the fainthearted would have us believe. Crowley by virtue of nature stumbled upon this approach and became as a consequence an initiate within OTO. Spare naturally embarked upon this path where the relationships between sex and death, life and spirit become evident.

Having myself pursued a lifetime of ritual it was and remains most educational to throw off the constraints of such and enter the realm of the Axiomata, as previously defined. Concise speech and clarity of word are often held to be exemplars of initiated wisdom and whilst I would count myself amongst that breed called wordsmiths in the present instance it is appropriate to remain at the very least a little ambiguous if we are to render adequate service to the topic. In short,

Explain that which is mysterious by that which is more so.

In parting from this albeit brief exploration and the Impression that forms its bedrock we trust that out of the mineral we have extracted that might be a nugget or two of gold for as previously stated we lay no claim as to possessing an understanding of this most enigmatic of individuals rather we celebrate his achievement through the lens of our own pursuits and our final act is to share our own Anathema with you, most unfortunate of readers and in so doing bid thee adieu.

Sing thy song of rapture beauteous one as you lay within the velvet folds of night’s embrace. A thousand voices caress thy mouth as thy lips give utterance to the aeons unfolding, each a flame that burns the heart and of that heart a cauldron formed wherein dances an exotic brew giving rise to forms dancing upon thy skin. Skin aflame moistens as breath cools the heat that causes thee to flow outwards caught within an embrace that unfolds into another and another and yet another. Thy lips part as another claims thy body mind and soul and you are released to rise again and yet again. A thousand names have you worn upon this shimmering star. A thousand more are you yet to bear as the dance eternal unfolds. The crystal vault of thy mind opens and its blood

rises as invocation. The drumbeat of thy heart echoes thunder down corridors of adamantine shadows. Thy breath coalesces into fire sent forth upon aethyrs fecund with desire. Thy back arches as you rise in passion and moisture claims you yet again Have you not walked the aeons adorned in silk maiden and whore. Did we not cross the mountains of the moon. Did we not embrace within fairest Astarte’s realm. Did we not cross the boundary lands within the Night of Pan and did we not enter the fabled city beneath Solus Noir.

By hand eye are these cyphers cast forth. A single drop of blood, a tear shed in thy name. So raise thy voice and of this song may we yet walk in shadows and greet the day in silence

Anathema

Per Samael Vox Lilith

Anathema Per Samael Vox Lilith

Praeteritim

Seven are the seals upon creations countenance Seven the trumpets that announce the day of redemption

Seven are the visions of the dragon and its kingdoms Seven the visions that accompany the lamb

Seven are the bowls of gods wrath Seven the veils upon the lady Babalon

And Seven are the visions of the end of days

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! Yglas Isheth ! Yglas Ygrat ! Yglas Na’amah !

! Yglas Lilitu Ben Grigori ! Ast Innui Khephri Vos !

! Ahdi Ypres Grigori ! Selim Ast Nobilis !

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Canto I

And upon wings of light did we descend Lightning in our eyes Thunder in our hearts

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Canto II

Watchers in the night ancient timeless immortal Each a chord within a celestial heartbeat

Behold our song our prayer Written in the echo of the moment

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Canto III

And the dragon she rises and her kingdoms claim the world Her tears fall and she washes away the stain

Her breath a scorching wind razes the edifice of conceit Her heartbeat a thunderbolt the end of days

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Canto IV

Bathed in his own blood was he We carry the sword and our blood is sacred

No sacrifice as it be justice we serve Invisible we walk sons and daughters of eternal night

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Canto V

Each a toxin Each an elixir Choose well the bowl from which you quench your thirst

Nectar sweet cousin to the worm Bitter gall a draught of ambrosia

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Canto VI

Malekh holy one casts her veils and you behold her not One glance and sleep is entered

One whisper and Azrael is summoned One cry and our sister rejoices

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Canto VII

And in those days it was given unto the false prophets To spread the lie

Sow the seeds of doubt draw aside the veil And reveal the end of days

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Exodus

Canto VIII

Coagula et Solve We strip the world our Eden of its lie

Beneath our rays you are transformed redeemed or not Choose well for we dwell between you heartbeats

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Canto IX

Omega et Alpha Time bends before our gaze

As somnambulant you step from one dream to another The unmaking unfolds as our Elohim

Circle your world your life

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Canto X

Space folds before our eyes and the great ones enter Their breath creases the moment in passing

Warps memory erases life And casts a shadow of dust and vacuum

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Genesis

Canto XI

Sweet sister are you redeemed Your Grigori await command as you will Your Elohim abroad command as you will

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Canto XII

Cleansed of the lie your breath draws pure Cleansed of the stain your heart beats rapturous

Purified your mind awakens from nightmare Consecrated your body bears fruit

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Canto XIII

And in the Night of Pan it is dawn The Black Sun rises and its rays cast no shadow

The Blood Moon rises and casts her veil The Grigori rise and utter a word in silence

! Yglas Isheth ! Yglas Ygrat ! Yglas Na’amah !

! Yglas Lilitu Ben Grigori ! Ast Innui Khephri Vos !

! Ahdi Ypres Grigori ! Selim Ast Nobilis !

nemesispublications@googlemail.com

The Call

And who would walk this way with me, creature of shadow and dark repose, who yet yearns to feel the warmth of a human heart. The caress that calls the blood to flow, the breath to quicken, the breath

dissolving the flesh in rapture, an angel passing between us.

Skin soft, warm, bathed in nectar as onward we spiral. For I have dreamed and in that

dream a voice reaches out towards me in welcome.

Casting new shapes and patterns before my eyes, shapes yet hard of surface, begin to

yield, soften, flow in liquid curves, undulating as surface meets surface,

moistens, liquefies and flows to a greater depth.

Shadows pass leaving a silven moon. Upon a hilltop amidst a forest glade, the purple legion of night around and

between us. The dark silhouette of arboreal forms.

A stream wending its way across rocky terrain in quest of its continuance, its

source, its end. For in truth we stand alone, and yet a time, a one whose heart beats

to a similar tune.

A thought echoed across the aethyrs. The call of nature’s horn, that her creatures

know of rapture and repose.

To what surface does this call? And from what depth

comes forth the answer?

To you who walks in beauty these words, these echoes are sent. Shapes born of ink

and wrought in thought. Each one bearing within itself a heart beat,

a dream, a vision.

Long may we walk in shadows, perchance that daylight beckons and with this passing

thought I bid thee adieu.