Christine McConnell is a baker and artist who brings expertly realized visions of occult oddities to life.  I found out about her on Reddit a few months ago in reference to one of her beautiful pin up recreations.  I was linked to her Instagram channel and was hooked immediately by her many beautiful artworks.  As an artist, she spans many mediums: photography, costume design, sculpture, and food art creations.  What makes her work relevant to us lovers of the arcane is the twinge of darkness, sometimes subtle, sometimes not so much, that inspires her work.  

Take, for example, one of her pin-up self-portraits where she appears as a black widow spider.  The image is beautifully unsettling.  I appreciate how she turns the idea of a pin-up (an artistic rendering for male pleasure) into something dangerous and uncanny for the viewer.  A beautiful danger like the Sirens of Greek lore.

References to famous horror movies run throughout her pieces.  This includes a pin-up take on the twins from The Shining as well as odes to 50's style cheesy alien films.  Her edible sculptures also celebrate famous horror figures, such as Frankenstein and the “baby” monster from Alien.

Last, but not certainly not least, I must reference what I consider to be one of the best “Haunted Houses” I’ve seen.  For this piece, Christine decorated her parent’s lovely home into a monstrous creature for Halloween.

I recommend checking out her instagram to view all her amazing works.  Let me know in the comments below what you think and if you have any artists that you are currently obsessing over.

The morning commute to work can be a dreadful thing.  Living in the city I take the L train from the north all the way to downtown.  It takes about an hour of screeching tracks and shuffling passengers.  For me, I like to retreat into my own world by listening to podcasts.  There’s something that’s incredibly intimate and meaningful about listening to person’s voice as the narrate a story.  Below is a list of some of my favorites.

Lore

Stories explaining the history of various folklore traditions.

Best listened to with a glass of wine in hand watching the rain storm against your window.

The Black Tapes

A serialized docudrama that investigates proof of the paranormal. It’s up to you if you choose to believe the story or not.

Lovers of the X-files and Ghost Hunters will enjoy this one.

Welcome to the Nightvale

A Lovecraftian fiction story that envelops you in a mysterious desert town filled with oddities and conspiracies.

Best for those that love a little dose of crazy mixed in with their magical realism.

Down at the Crossroads

Chris Orapello is a pagan podcaster that discusses various Pagan and Witchy topics. He also interviews other prominent Pagans and features various Pagan music.

Excellent for those wanting an educational look into various Pagan traditions and thoughts.

New World Witchery

Witches Cory and Laine go over what traditional North American Witchcraft means to them and how to incorporate magic and spellwork in your daily life.

Great for beginner and experienced practitioners alike.

Mysterious Universe 

This riotous Australian duo will have you laughing in no time as they go through the latest mysterious happenings and conspiracies with a healthy dose of skepticism.

If you love hearing about UFO phenomenon, ghosts, hauntings, and cryptozoology than this is for you.

On this evening, like all evenings before it, the lights of Chicago shown with an aura of great promise. The kind of confident capability only a great American metropolis could have. While the recession was still felt throughout the midwest, the city of broad shoulders stood tall and resilient against the dilapidation. Chicago appeared as a bold hammer of progress standing upright against the crumbling facades of infrastructure that plagued the nearby cities of Detroit and Columbus. The infection of foreclosure and poverty rose all around, yet the Chicago skyline stood strong and eternal.  

My city acted as as a beehive of forward motion.  It breathed and exhaled as the commuters came and went.  As the people moved up and down the avenues, the streets, and the alleys.  The current view of the skyscrapers was foreboding, yet I understood that I would somehow be forever connected to this great hive of life.  I was miles away but I could still feel the frenetic energy emanating from the city center.

The traffic rushed on and I stood apart, digging my feet into the sandy shore of the lake.  I turned away from the city lights to face the great empty blue of the waves.  And as I walked along the edge of Lake Michigan, grey waves frothed and crashed against the stone walkway in welcome.  For here by the lake, I was momentarily disconnected from it all.  Staring out into the great big grey expanse, I was given a chance to feel the movement of the water within and relax into the wind as it spun around me.   

For me, Lake Michigan has always offered a respite from the harsh masculine lines of the architecture.  A soft song of waves calming the roar of the L train.

I stood for several minutes by the lake watching the waves chaotically ungulate and crash against the shoreline.  Off in the distance the outline of the city skyscrapers blurred dark against the monochromatic horizon, a reminder that I must soon return back to my hive.  Yet now, here in this place I am a leaf floating on the wind, smiling towards the Goddess.  A reminder that even us city witches are forever connected to her beauty.

The robin's egg blue paint and neon orange sign sticks out like a sore thumb on the street; the shock of color a premonition of what's to come. As you enter the shoebox-sized curio store called, Wooly Mammoth you are greeted with a menagerie of extreme oddities. Like the animal it's named after, the store is from another time and place. It's the taxidermy that raises your attention first: a large boa curled up on the floor,, a two-headed calf staring at you with four large black eyes. Smaller rodents and mammals hang from the walls in a contortion of postures that seem uncomfortably anthropomorphic, and at times, morbidly hilarious.

A deeper delve into the store will reveal a large variety of the strange and unusual. Old surgical equipment will have you thanking the gods that you grew up after anesthetic was invented. Bones are scattered about: there are full skeletons sure, but also collections of animal skulls laid on plush velvet, femurs laid between a crocodile's jaw, and a small jar of teeth from Civil War soldiers.

As you watch a shrunken head named Lenny slowly spinning in its glass case, you might pause to question why we collect such unusual and often unsettling objects. A little research will tell you that the cabinet of curiosities goes back centuries, all the way to Renaissance Europe where items that could not e categorized were placed together and displayed.

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The primary purpose of these collections was to inspire wonder at our world. Such collections were seen as a tribute to the unknowable, grotesque, and sidelined artifacts seldom seen but often quietly spoken of. These items were put in a collective space as a form of "memory theater". The owner of the collection was able to feel as though they owned a cross section of the natural (or perhaps unnatural) world--a curator of the curious and mystical, having the power to inflict a spectrum of reactions from spectators.

Historically, these wonder-cabinets were used as a social device to establish and present one's rank in society. Interestingly, those who collect and own curiosities today often view their collection as a proud departure from the norms of society--a testament to the power unusual artifacts still have on those who view them.

Contemporary collections range from academic studies of the natural world, to displays of trompe l'oeil interpretations of such nature. The Museum of Jurassic Technology is one such institution where the collections reveal unreal oddities that masquerade as true natural objects within a museum setting: an amazing clash of museum etiquette meeting magical realism.

The House on the Rock, located in Spring Green, Wisconsin, takes a different approach with a series of rooms and buildings showcasing the eclectically mesmerizing collections of Alex Jordan. One could call Jordan's collection a hoarder's dream. But, truly, the collections are diverse, massive, and awe-inspiring. As one moves through the house from room to room, one might feel themselves descending ever so slightly into a pleasant surreal state.

I find our continued interest in such collections inspiring. While I might not tend to purchase anything from Wolly Mammoth or similar stores anytime soon, I'm glad these stores and collections exist in our modern world. Sure, it certainly isn't everyone's cup of tea, and might cause some to cringe in disgust. But, I personally find the homogeneity and commercialization of suburbia and its endless chain stores much more disturbing.

As I walk toward the lake I pass endless buildings of brick until I reach the greenery of the Lakeshore path.  My mind calms and settles with each step away from the concrete chaos and towards the serene shades of sky and green.

Upon reaching the edge of the shore, the city skyscrapers become visible in the distance as they blur dark against the monochromatic horizon. They stand as charcoal sentinels balanced at the edge of the endless water.  Even in winter, Lake Michigan offers a respite from the harsh masculinity of Chicago's architecture.  A feminine note pushing against the industrial.  I savoir my walks as I listen to the soft sound of waves as they calm the roar of the nearby trains.  I watch with serenity as the grey winter waves froth and foam as they pirouette towards the stone walkway.

Walking in nature and feeling the breeze against your face has a beautiful meditative quality.  And with each step I am reminded of our connection to the Earth.