The Phoenix fire is starting to wind down as I move onto some important upcoming things, but I wanted to take some time to talk about my newest zine, A Crown of Dandelions. It's a sort of plant grimoire, that also has the elements of a memoir, and herbal.
It took a lot of fire to be able to create this, and I've been wanting to create a Herbarium of my own for so many years now, but I could never sort through exactly what I wanted to get across. I needed to learn and experiment first. I needed to learn more and become curious.
Being a long process of learning what plants are most important to me was a deep and introspective process - I learned that I really love certain plants - the ones I reach towards always seem to repeat themselves, and I love them very much. I talk about this in the zine, but I consider these plants to be family with the way I honour and interact with them.
The final cut was 25 plants that I use the most in my practice, listed above in the contents. It was born between a memoir, a dream, and a working grimoire, each entry stands on its own, as it is supposed to. It is something I worked hard on cultivating with this one - born through the fire the plants bloomed through my writing and I've never been more proud of something by my own hand.
Each entry speaks for a plant, it's memories, my experiences with it. It's intimate and a close look at the folk practices I've been doing for years at this point. The Green Magic that flows through me is abundant and I had to really take the time to articulate what I wanted to say.
Compiled from 17 years worth of notes, it was a journey sorting through old journals, going through recipes I formulated when I was younger. It was a trip down memory lane itself and I was really able to pin down the experiences that shaped my magical practice.
I've always taken my work seriously, but as of late it's taken a turn for something deeper, more meaningful. I want to reach through to people, and be a good Ancestor. I want to pass down this knowledge to anyone who sincerely seeks it out with goodness inside them - I fully believe the lessons we can learn from plants are some of the most profound and world changing, when we take the time to acknowledge what it takes to live and survive vibrantly.
I printed off 12 of these zines for my upcoming events. They were hand stitched with green sheep wool, soft and vibrant. Biodegradable. I learned how to do a 5 hole pamphlet stitch for this zine, and I think it's a new favourite for binding. I want to make a bespoke book sometime, hard bound with limited print copies I think.
This is one of the most important zines I've written I think - the themes explored, the personal experiences braided together with traditional plant knowledge - I think it's something that is so important to me, and my own narrative.
In doing what I do, I casted a geomantic reading to explore my motives - If you didn't know I'm going through my first Saturn return, and it has not been a gentle fire, but it has been one that's been deeply needed for years now. Through it I discovered some generational trauma, and what I've walked away from all these years.
It's never really been easy, being the child of a colonized Indigenous woman, and a refugee of war. I've had to unpack a lot of what makes me, me - and I've discovered a lot about what I've kept in turn. I've kept my blood, my honour, and my love. I carry my Algonquin Anishinaabe heart, along with a Hmong spirit. I carry colonization and refugee and complexity.
I think that is the spirit that is dwelling inside of me at this moment, the Dandelion and it's resilience is something I've needed to learn over and over as I navigate a complex life - and it's something I want to embody more as I work through my stuff and become more me through the transformations.
I've come to be really inspired by Robin Wall Kimmerer, and Mary Siisip Geniusz as Indigenous ecologists - I think that traditional botanical teachings have a place in the scientific community and that in bridging traditional knowledge and spirituality with science we can have better ethics overall. Its something I feel very strongly about and that comes through in this zine very strongly.
In this zine, there are several essays that talk about what it means to be a good Ancestor, to steward the land and the spirit together, to talk to plants and engage with them as family, not as something to conquer and overcome. I think my favourite piece in this collection is On the Many Teachings of Plants - I believe that it is something powerful to be able to use plant medicine in healing, in grief work, and as guides to our lives.