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Thank you,

Scott K Smith

2632 West Avenue 35
Los Angeles, CA, 90065
United States


Home of Scott K Smith, Magick Maker
On Magick, Health, Healing, Ritual, Energy, and Spirit. Dedicated to the Gods in all of us,


Healer. Artist. Intuitive.

Turn the Card: Resurrection | Judgement

Scott K

Resurrection: The Tarot Journey prec·i·pice/ˈpresəpəs/ Noun: A very steep rock face or cliff, typically a tall one.

As if I am standing on one. I see over the edge, a beach, and stones. Bits of sand and rock, a bit of grass, tumbling over the edge, falling towards a an oceans distant roar. Shore meets deep blue-green, crashing white, misting the air with wet spray.

I am wearing brown shoes. The horizon meets the water.

Hearing Yulunga, Dead Can Dance.

I have not forgotten about the Tarot Journey, in fact I have been noting it in places but I have not named the card that has been the focal point for mediation at this time.

Turn the Card: Resurrection / Judgement

*I'd like to see more of this deck. If you know what the deck is called, please let me know!*

The dead rise, skeletons in closets’ rattle, they dance. There is no hiding from the past in fact it is the one thing that holds you back. These hidden truths are the keys to power. They are shadows waiting to be reborn in light.

I am coming to the end of the cycle with the Tarot Journey and there is a complex knot of emotions that are unraveling within me. It is recognition of the call.

The shadows, the “dead” in this don’t feel to be hidden fears, or shame, but finite gems of belief unearthed. Red. Blue… Royal. Green, like seen in Oz. Yellow like the sun, almost gold. These gems, they are hidden in my stomach.

They are power catching and refracting rays of light, that climb down my throat when I speak. They are warm and I have swallowed them.

The jewels they are like tabs, or drugs, and I am beginning to feel their effect. I know I will peak there is nothing I can do for it but to ride the trip. My skin tingles along every curve, across every surface. The fine hair along the neck, my arms, these are wakened, reaching.

Someone breaths in my ear and I feel like a matron, sitting at dressing table, pearls on my neck. He says, “It’s time…”

There is a collection of thoughts condensing, hardening, transforming under the intensity of these buried emotions.

Open your own place Scott. Bring a center to Downtown. Start teaching again, healing again. Reading again. Time is now to begin. Where does the money come from? What will happen to my job? My apartment? My life.?

How do I change?

If you read this blog you know these are the reoccurring questions. If you know me, you will know these are what make dreams finite and the choices I have made in the last 5 or so years to compensate for a shifting-changing-me while the world changed, economy changed, and I made choices to survive.

Didn’t we all?

This is no “judgment” against my life-choices. I think the time that I have had to study myself has only refined my questions and answers. Wonders, what will I be feeling in 10 years from now?

I think this is the Shadow’s search, the message in the cauldron. These questions that became concerns, are my people at the crossroad. I am a Goddess at the center where four roads meet, brining little shadows food and drink. I comfort them. I comfort me.

Bjork, show me forgiveness.

Show me forgiveness For having lost faith in myself And let my own interior up To inferior forces

Show Me Forgiveness by Björk

More Björk music on iLike


So rather than just talk about it, muling it over, I'd like to ask a question about beginnings for me. Would you be more open to events around, say a tent and table, at local events; or would something like a monthly gathering work, something more private?

Curious... but beginning.

– - Be well,

Scott K Smith

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