This is one of those rare times I am going to relate a personal experience, without using veiled symbolic references. Sometime ago, when as a youth, I decided to conjure up the Fifty-sixth Goetia spirit called Gremory, otherwise named Gamori or Gomory.
The classical grimoire description of the spirit I had otherwise visualised as a Succubus dressed as a Nun.
The symbolic logic of which was the associated motif of the Camel, upon whose back this described Succubus is said to ride in the Goetia.
The Camel in Hebrew is Gimel, which of a letter is associated with the thirteenth path of the Cabbala.
The thirteenth path transverses the hidden Sephira of Da’at, whose path is ascribed to the Tarot card of the High Priestess of the Silver Star: Sirius, linking the Sephira of Tiphareth and Kether.
Hence, it is the High Priestess II, I am alluding to in regards to Gremory, since fifty-six in numerology reduces down to eleven, of the eleventh Sephira of Da’at.
Some to say that the name Gremory or Gamori is etymologically related to the French word Grimoire, which, if it is indeed the case, the name is quite apt for the High Priestess, since she is depicted seated in a doorway between two pylons with a Grimoire upon her lap.
I utilised the methodology of meditating upon Gremory’s seal in association with erotic imagery of Nun’s; some of the imagery was derived from photographic material, which I had utilised to create an exquisite corpse photomontage painting. The Frankenhooker creation of which automatically involved in depth meditation. I then utilised Gremory’s seal in association with the artistic creation, upon which I meditated, along with drawing and painting the spirit to thereby create a distinctive personage. This also involved creating a back-story for the spirit of creative writing, in order to give her Nightgaunt Bat wings, so as to fly
The technique of writing involved visualising the spirit as a Nun, of active-imagination, whom I conjured amidst my Triangle of Art, which had been drawn upon a piece of card; while doing so I visualised myself standing at the centre of a magic circle conducting the ritual of conjuration. The visionary material, which had been imaginatively conjured, I rapidly drew in a sketch pad; this also informed my writing and computer generated art.
A Ouija board, of a meditation device, was also utilised for the practice of automatism via which a two way dialogue could be established between my conscious mind and my subconscious conjuration. This was done, so that I could determine if there was any subconscious blocks as well as furthering the creation of the artwork, both visual and literary. The experiment was conducted in order to determine whether the utilised symbolism could be implanted into my subconscious, which would then act as a trigger-symbol within the dream. The intention was to initiate a lucid dream interaction with Gremory. The meditation also involved repetitively intoning Gremory’s name as a Mantra, which I then utilised at the Vesica Pisces point of hypnagogic sleep, along with visualising her seal.
The experiment was conducted over a period of a week, thereabouts; approximately five hours per day or more, since it is part and parcel of my artistic vocation. Sometimes it consumed both day and night of constant working with some intermittent breaks. I had noted that there were certain hours, days and nights, wherein I experienced a flowing creativity of active-imagination visions about a Nun; whereas at other times it was literally an uphill struggle to seer anything at all. These peaks and dips of emotively charged visionary material seemed to be tied up with my circadian rhythms around the Moon phases.
At a certain juncture of the experiment I became both mentally and physically exhausted; I couldn’t continue anymore, as if burnt out; I just felt like crashing into sleep. I knew from previous experience that this was the time when a dream visitation of the conjured spirit would most likely occur. The onset of which occurred at the point of sleep when I accessed the hypnagogic state; I then experienced the classic Old Hag Syndrome of sleep paralysis and that of a shadowy invisible presence around me. I remembered from other experiences of similarity not to give into my fear, but such had been prior negated by my introverted sexual impulse due to my ritualistic focus upon the eroticised material. I then called out Gremory’s name; whereupon the shadowy invisible presence took on the form of a Nightgaunt Nun amidst her cathedral.
I will not relate what had occurred within the induced lucid dream, which is a private affair of an out of body experience.
Although I may allude to its inner reality, and that of other experiences, to describe in a roundabout way within my artwork and writing.
What I will say is that the experiment was successful on the dreaming front. But I did not expect what was soon to occur upon awakening, of an unforeseen event. I decided to go out to the corner shop in order to obtain some cigarettes. I was intending to buy a packet of Camel’s to celebrate my artistic endeavour of dream sorcery, rather than smoking the usual roll ups; while doing so I pondered upon the experience of contacting Gremory within my vivid erotic dream, which led me to suddenly decide, on the spur of the moment, to extend my walk towards another shop beyond a local church, whose graveyard is said to be assailed by grave robbing Satanists of Halloween lore; its truth, I have observed myself, of disrespected scattered bones.
As to the locality around me and that of its inhabitants, it tends in the main to be quite normal; not much out of the ordinary ever happens. The church, though old, of a previous village focus, has since found its self surrounded by an urban sprawl, to be now in competition with an Alpha course cult across the road, from its Protestant constant warring with the Catholic.
As I passed by the church, I noticed a black habit Nun walk out of its opening door. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing of a most obvious synchronicity. I then felt very nervous, almost jittery, feeling an itch all over my body, I couldn’t scratch. I thought I was probably hallucinating; whereupon I stopped myself in my tracks to do a double take. This was most definitely not a regular occurrence; not before or since, have I seen a Nun around said church, let alone coming out of it, whose habit was of the classic kind, which had long gone out of fashion amongst practicing Nuns. Although, at another time I had observed such a Nun walking over a highway bridge in the middle of nowhere, which nearly made my shocked friend crash his camper van, within which I was too travelling. My friend’s reaction was no doubt instagated by my conversing about Nightgaunt Nuns, just prior to seeing the flying Nun.
I decided to smoke a cigarette; I still had some tobacco left in my pouch to make myself a roll up, and while doing so, determine whether I was indeed hallucinating. The Nun made her graceful way down the church path, whom got ever closer to where I was standing. I then noticed that the Nun was in her early twenties, who was very attractive, looking very much like my ritualistic focus, and what is more, she appeared to be wearing lipstick. I thought, to myself, that I must indeed be hallucinating; but if so, it was bloody three dimensional real, in the flesh, of a Nastassja Kinski look alike.
The winding path that the Nun hovered along like a black shadow ghost, took her up behind me. I nervously stood my ground, before slowly walking on myself, in order to allow the Nun to pass me. As she passed by, I noticed that she was indeed wearing lipstick and makeup, whom looked at me askance of slanted feline dark eyes; she was aware that I was uncontrollably staring at her out of shock, no doubt looking quite dumbfounded, which made her grin like a Cheshire Cat of a most knowing look.
As the Nun walked in front of me, a slight distance away, she appeared to make it a point of making her hips to seductively sway on purpose; whereupon I noticed she was wearing high heeled shoes. I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed her. The problem was, there were very few people around of an early morning stroll. However, there was a small group of individuals standing at a bus stop; some of them turned around looking quite perplexed at her carefree passing by.
I breathed a sigh of relief, that I was not in fact hallucinating; others could see her too. Whereupon, I whimsically conjectured that she was probably a call-girl wearing a kinky Succubus costume, who had just visited the naughty Vicar at his crumbling church, or that she was an actress who was playing a Nightgaunt part in an amateur horror flick. None of my conjectures seemed to fit the facts; the church wouldn’t want such publicity, since it’s flock had been assiduously working towards getting funds to renovate it over a number of years.
As I got closer to my destination, the Nun stopped in front of me; she turned around and wirily smiled; almost looking lustful. She then enquired of me, if she could have a cigarette. I nearly fell over, fumbling. I answered to near stutter, “yeah, sure;” without coughing up my nervous guts as my pounding heart missed a beat.
She didn’t mind at all that I had to make the cigarette. I placed some tobacco in a paper, and handed it to the Nun; whereupon she asked me to lick it for her. She seemed to be enjoying my nervousness. In retrospect, I should have asked her some very searching questions. Alas, I was but a youth; although to have experienced a plethora of very strange occurrences, this one caught me totally off guard, as if I had inadvertently quantum slid into an alternate reality.
I gave the cigarette to the Nun, which I then lit for her. As she got closer, I smelt the whiff of perfume, which was musky. She then took a long drag on the cigarette and softly blew the smoke into my face of a noted seduction, or that of a blessing, before thanking me, and then she slowly walked off, her delectable hips swaying.
I stood for a moment, watching her walk down the road like a catwalk model out of a Vogue magazine, deliberating should I dare follow her, or to just go into the shop and get some Camel’s and a bottle of Casillero del Diablo. I decided to follow her at a discreet distance for a time, just to get my head on straight, so that I could piece together the meaning of this momentous synchronicity.
The Nun then turned a corner down another road. I was but a short distance behind her; when I got to the turning, she was nowhere to be found, as if she had suddenly disappeared; apart from finding the discarded butt end of the cigarette I had just made, painted with her scarlet lipstick, which I later placed with her seal into a medicine pouch, hanging from my drum.
There were no houses on either side of the road she could have gone into, which of a long stretch had no available doorways; nor were there any cars parked in the road, into which she could have leapt. If there was an awaiting car, I would have seen it pull away down the road.
I then started to wonder if it was more than just an in my face synchronicity of concordant symbolism, which correlated with my lucid dream experience; that this was an actual physical manifestation of Gremory, or that of a tulpa? Further similar experiences indicate that physical manifestations do indeed occur, or at the very least that of most intriguing synchronicities. I am not at all concerned whether you believe me or not. I really do not care at all; I have nothing to prove, apart from proving it to myself. If you want proof best find out for yourself, if you ever dare to practice the art.