Growing up in an Italian-American family I saw a lot of death. Most of my aunts and uncles were geriatric so there was a funeral every six months. They died of cancer, of pneumonia, of calculated risks. When that happened everyone came. We had relatives in distance states who would fly in for the occasion. I remember the funeral home most of all, an old Italian place in a rusty part of town. Everything about it depressed me, the carpet, the lights, the eternally overcast sky. Nothing ever changed at Rossi's.
I preferred the churches and cemeteries, high ceilings and open sky, a promise of lunch afterwords. Catholic churches rarely depressed me, not even the older ones with their darker windows and stony floors. Recently I stumbled across some Italian churches built specifically for the dead. Santa Maria dell'Orazione e Morte is probably the most famous, carved with skull motifs and winged time pieces. Similar shrines appear elsewhere in Italy, built to house friars and corpses of the abandoned or unknown. We could say death was familiar to the people who visited and built these churches. They were used to it, considering the shear number of plague victims throughout Europe.
Consider the following images from Santa Maria Della Concezione where an order of 4,000 dead monks line the walls. Now look a little closer at the photo to the right, depicting a tall skeleton with scythe and scales. Does any of this seem familiar? Could it be an ancestress, a forerunner of Mexico's death saint Santisima Muerte, the arcane spectre we know from botanica windows and head shops? Shortly after researching this, I began spotting references to Italian death sprites like Dea Mors and the Greek Fate Atropos. In most stories they were linked to Europe's dark Carnivals and a more obsucre figure from European legend called Santa Morte, or Saint Death.
Most of what we know about Holy Death (Santisima Muerte) comes from Brujeria (Mexican Witchcraft) and Curanderismo. She is a product of syncreticism, believed to be linked to the Aztec spirit Mictecacihuatl. According to tradition, she is the archangel of death. Like the Madonna, she arrives in a variety of forms, each petitioned for different needs. La Blanca (White) has the power to heal and existed before Genesis. La Roja (Red) is called upon for romantic endeavors, being the form she took when Adam and Eve made love in the Garden. She is also petioned for financial needs. La Negra (Black) is the form she took once Cain killed Abel. She is petitioned for defense, murder and protection.
More recently, I became the student of a woman raised in an Italian folkloric tradition. She agreed to teach me her family's blend of Stregheria. One summer afternoon she mentioned "The Lady of Silence." As it turns out, this Lady is one and the same with Santa Morte. My teacher even referred to her as the Angel of Death. While she isn't featured in every form of Stregheria, we do refer to her in our own, where she sits on my altar as The Lady of Silence. What can I tell you about this folk saint as she's petioned by Italian witches? Very little. Due to traditional Stregheria's renown security, we take special measures to preserve any symbolism and structure from traditions who might adapt them and misrepresent the stories or rituals in translation. I can tell you that The Lady entertains her own fresh symbolism and a place in our credo.
Concerning her influence over Santisima Muerte and Latin America, consider Spain's invasion of Mexico. Could it be possible that The Lady of Silence, a relic of Europe's Carnivals, influenced Brujeria and our modern understanding of Santisima Muerte? I think it's very likely, and find myself viewing her--and my family's customs--in a fuller, brighter light. Furthermore, if anyone works with this saint or has any additional texts, I'd love to hear from you. Please contact me or leave a note below.
( Originally published March 9, 2012)
There is a special place in my heart for Minerva. The New Larousse Encyclopedia of Mythology calls her the least Italian of the imperial deities worshiped in Rome. Even Charles Leland had little to say of her, naming her an Etruscan Mnemosyne. I have to disagree. True contact with deities is not established in books, but in practice.
Minerva entered my life recently when I asked Jupiter's assistance in contacting the folletto, the spirits honored by my ancestors. Minerva, like Jupiter, Janus or Venus represents true animism. Her name stems from the ancient root for mind, making her a true epitome of thought and intellect. She rules craftsmanship, commerce and handy-work. She is also fond of students like myself.
Communion with Minerva is best accomplished in person. Leave a gift for her outdoors, on your altar or near your place of business or school. You will most likely experience her as a spirit independent of outside influences. Books on "Roman Mythology" make excellent reference points but tend to run in circles. Remember that the Italian spirits were experienced in oral lore and ritual long before they were recorded by poets and "fused" with the Greek pantheon. Minerva is not a footnote; she's an entity.
(Originally published May 28, 2012)
Venus, like Morta the Roman Fate, is inevitable. Everyone experiences her. To the Italians she was a spirit of beauty and vitalization evident in nature. Every spring she returned with Flora and Feronia, blessing flowers and gorgeous plant life. Venus is beautification and regeneration. She is the eternally stimulated woman, a patron of painters, whores and emperors. Eventually she attained the stories of Aphrodite and became the patron of human love and beauty as well.
Charles Leland believed she evolved over time from the Etruscan Turan. Turan supposedly became the more popular Turanna, a faery of chance and fortune similar to Fortuna. Leland claims she divined and blessed with cards. Her totem was the Queen of Hearts.
Scholars are quick to point out Venus's lack of worship in early Rome. Unlike Jupiter and Juno she had to gain strength slowly. By the time of Julius Caesar, however, she became the Roman Genetrix or "Begetting Mother" of the imperial race. Hadrian completed a temple to her as late as 135 AD.
In modern times Venus is snyonomous with love. As a planetary spirit she is easier to recognize in nature than Aphrodite. She rules love, romance, beauty, sexuality and lust. As the mother of Cupid she rules erotic and emotional impulses. Her sacred colors are yellow and red, easily translated into candle magic and ritual. When working with her, remember you are dealing with the mother of regeneration. Venus changed her form several times to become the presence we know today. In the end, she's retained her core character.
(Originally published February 20, 2012)
Recently I began searching for a Madonna to place on my ancestor altar. I had a few interesting leads but the form that spoke to me was one "Madonna del Granato," the Madonna with the pomegranate. As a fan of syncreticism, I found special value in this apparition, a Mary tied to my patron Hera.
As a child I grew very attached to Hera. She was a very resourceful female, unwilling to turn a blind eye when someone harmed her. As a teenager, I found this protection extended to her children.
Mary, like Hera and Juno, has been called the Queen of Heaven. She is synchronized with many ancient spirits including the huntress Diana. Her various apparitions appeared in many countries throughout the world and in Capaccio, Italy there is a church near Hera's Argonaut-built temple where she is called the Madonna del Granato. In ancient times Hera was depicted with her favorite fruit, the pomegranate, a symbol of fertility and promise. Predictably, when the pagans of present day Capaccio and Paestrum converted to Christianity, they applied the red fruit to Mary and the Madonna del Granato was born.
As a strega, this Madonna is particularly interesting to me. She represents a link to my ancestors and the powers of nature ruled by Hera. I've only begun to work with this spirit and I hope to share more with you later. Please leave comments or private e-mails if this topic appeals to yo
Consider the following images from Santa Maria Della Concezione where an order of 4,000 dead monks line the walls. Now look a little closer at the photo to the right, depicting a tall skeleton with scythe and scales. Does any of this seem familiar? Could it be an ancestress, a forerunner of Mexico's death saint Santisima Muerte, the arcane spectre we know from botanica windows and head shops? Shortly after researching this, I began spotting references to Italian death sprites like Dea Mors and the Greek Fate Atropos. In most stories they were linked to Europe's dark Carnivals and a more obsucre figure from European legend called Santa Morte, or Saint Death. 
