Christina Debes: About Me

You may know me as Christina. Among sacred circles and deeper rites, I am called Morrigan. The names are two veils drawn across the same soul.

Greetings, Seeker of the Veil.
I am Morrigan, a solitary witch born beneath the grey skies of London. Though I walk the world as a woman of forty-two winters, my spirit dances far beyond the span of mortal time. I dwell with two faithful companions — a sable-furred familiar named Moor, and a quiet guardian of the turning wheel, a hamster known as Hamilton. Together we share the hush of midnight and the songs of candlelight.

I am an eclectic Wiccan, one who gathers the glimmers of many paths and weaves them into a tapestry of personal truth. Mine is not the religion of hierarchy or gatekeeping, but of communion. I need no intermediary to speak with the Divine — for the Divine speaks in every river, in every flame, in every breath I draw. I worship where the moment finds me: in the sacred corner of my home, beneath the whispering leaves of my garden, or in the hidden places known only to my heart.

I was born on the 19th day of December, in the year 1981, in Shenley, a southern fragment of London’s ancient skin. I grew among the hills and hedgerows of Western England. My first heresy bloomed at age nine, when I asked my father if my beloved cat would ascend to heaven. His answer — that animals have no place in such realms — struck like frost upon the soul. That day I began to seek my own truths.

In time I uncovered The Golden Bough, and through it, the secret histories of folklore. I stepped into magick first as a curious child — casting small workings, sensing unseen winds. Now I walk a path shaped by rivers and fire. I perform candle rites in the still of night, and speak to the memory of water. Though solitary by nature, I have danced the sabbat circle with those I trust, beneath moons thick with mystery.

My thoughts return often to Egypt — not the Egypt of tour books, but one older, silent and sun-buried. I feel echoes there. Perhaps another life brushed its dust against my soul.

I am a poet, and when the world grows too loud, I paint. Words and images are spells of their own. One such spell I offer to you now — a lament for the silence that grows when cities forget their people:

When the cities turned against their people
the phones in parks
were stripped away
no need for any screaming girl to call
if she has no monthly cell plan
and police,
once a whistle from each others hearing
now speed past domestic abuse on the street
oblivious in sealed air conditioned bubbles
of paramilitary isolation
enhanced tasers and mil grade
laptops in their soundproof cruisers

When the cities turned against their people
the poets and violinists
were told to pick rocks
not because they needed picking
a Machine could easily do that
but the idle hands of poets and painters
the idle lips of bards
need to be flogged daily
lest celebrations be seen
spontaneously
without a permit

These words are offerings, like petals left at a shrine. If they find you — if they open a door or a wound — then they have done their work.

For those who seek deeper learning and the whispers of ancient pages, I welcome you to explore my library of rare texts and sacred tomes at darkbooks.org.

I love to travel. I've traveled extensively during the past 20 years. I have traveled almost to all Europe countries. I have been to Austria, France, Ireland, Belgium, the Netherlands, Germany, Denmark, Norway, Greece. I have discovered most of Europe. It is also shorter for me to say where in Europe I haven't yet been: The Vatican, San Marino, Monaco, Andorra, Bosnia, Macedonia, Albania, Cyprus and Iceland. Europe is full of tiny countries so it has been easy to visit all of those places. I would like to travel in the future too, learning other countries' culture and things like that... It must be amazing.

I love to travel, but I also like staying in one place and love my home in Shenley.

I really like doing housework. It's a source of great pleasure to me to make a room clean and beautiful, to restore order, to know as I pass a chest of drawers that everything within is orderly. And I find that sometimes I am most connected to my Goddess when I do this. Sometimes when I am churning with emotion and thoroughly off my balance, I seek Her in the cleaning and reorganization of kitchen cabinet or underwear drawer, rather than going outside to weep at the moon or sit under the apple tree.

I'm pretty fond of watching decorating shows and programs on big houses. Part of the time I'm liking the beauty, sometimes I'm awed by technology, and sometimes I'm shaking my head and thinking, "You paid how many thousands of dollars for that crap?!" And then I turn off the TV, and I consider my own house. 700 square feet. I play utility bill roulette to keep everything on. I don't have cable TV or cable internet. I know how to manage if the electricity isn't on, or the water, or the gas that heats the house and fuels the stove. And sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a house where I didn't have to step outside to have room to change my mind. And that's a little bit worse when I watch those shows.

One of the most entertaining ways for me to pass the hours waiting in an airport is to do some reading on what the religious right thinks Pagans like me are up to (apparently I should be having a much more adventuresome sex life). The one bad thing is that all the juicy bits are behind subscription walls and I am allergic to giving these people money for any reason. But it does appear that Paganism in general is back on the the radar of a least some segments of the religious right.

I am trying to find the happy. It continues to be a challenge, I will be honest. It has been exceptionally dark and gloomy here. Rumours are I have a fabulous weekend ahead when it comes to weather. I would really like that. I really need that to happen. Last week I had either huge rainfalls or snow. I am not expecting to be warm anymore. I have given up on that state of being. But sunshine, sunshine would make me very happy.

Sometimes I speak for myself I was inspired on my path as a witch by the Australian Rosaleen Norton (1917 - 1979) "The Witch of Kings Cross", stating that: "she had never been afraid to follow an unconventional spiritual path and expressed that in her art. She had carved a unique and potent niche for herself in a world when women were afforded far less opportunities than they are today. Her braveness and defiance of social norms and expectations inspires me to trust my own voice and vision of the world".