9/11 called me to Priesthood

(This is a reprint of a note I wrote on Facebook four years ago. I feel it is still pertinent to this day - Mambo)

I watched filmmakers Jules and Gedeon Naudet haunting film "9/11" last night. I was mesmerized by the images -- especially since I was supposed to be there that weekend.

I was still living a bi-polar existence at that time. I was a well respect media producer/technical director by day, leading some very important teams through their paces for a variety of Fortune 100 companies.  And by night, I was a priestess and acolyte of Dolores Ashcroft-Nowicki.  I helped plan her teaching schedule here in the US and was also doing my SOL lessons, having been elevated to priest by her in 1998. A double agent, as it were.

In 2000, I spent two weeks atop the North Tower of the World Trade Center, a mile above Manhattan, producing a Goldman-Sachs annual meeting. I rode the ear popping elevators up and down, shopped below ground in the stores and parked myself in one of the huge windows with other techs, as we ate lunch and stared out at the world from above. I remember doing the Ferris Bueler move -- standing on tip-toe in the window with my forehead against the glass, the vertigo-inducing visual making me giddy and delightfully dizzy.

In 2001, bedazzled by my brilliant talents -- or just looking for an extra body to run a computer -- Goldman called me up to ask if I would be in attendance at the their meeting, once again atop the World Trade Center. I could hardly resist, it was such a great experience the year before. But before I could pack my suits, I got another call, cutting me from the team due to the budget. Oh well, next year I thought.

Then Dolores called, and we made plans for an Egyptian Master Class here. I got whirled away with her tour, classes, airplane tickets and all the stuff that was required to make her trip a success. We did the class and she returned with us to our home in PA, to rest up before leaving for California.

The next morning, Michael (her husband called) and said he was sorry for what was happening in NY. I thought what's happening, turned on the TV and saw the second plane fly into the North Tower. I couldn't believe what I saw.

Fast forward ten years, and last night, I still couldn't believe what I saw. The brothers have edited and added to their original film. They also showed the new memorial -- a very beautiful park surrounding the original footprints of the towers. I am glad they stayed with a sacred monument, instead of a crass commercial offering. The ground there is consecrated not just by death, but by the valiant efforts of the NYFD, NYPD, and hundreds of volunteers who stayed, searched and gave their own lives over to seeking for the deceased. I thought the water fall monument with engraved names a very beautiful and emotional symbol. A water road to Ginen for all those souls who left so unexpectedly.

Many of my friends did much work to help that day. Manbo Shakmah and the SEED priestesses did their work to help the souls cross. I prayed and lit candles for weeks -- I lost friends in the Towers that day. And Don gives thanks that I was cut from the team. Because otherwise... I don't know. I guess Legba closed that door and opened another.

What I do know is that day marks the moment when I made the decision to go to Haiti and become a mambo. I saw in that instant how life could end in a moment. How things can be changed irrevocably and pointlessly. That if you do not seize hold of your life and make it what you will, you will lose the chance to do so. Some one or some thing will snatch it away and then -- nothing.

I spent 23 years waiting for a phone to ring, with some one on the other end asking me to go some where or do some thing for them. Not for me, for them. I went for the money or the glory or whatever. But I seldom went for myself. After 9/11, I decided I would go for myself from now on. I will choose my destiny, not some one else.

I changed everything after that day. I sold everything I had to, in order to raise money for an initiation that I felt compelled to receive.  I packed up my husband and we went to Haiti. And initiated. Came home and started a church. I left Dolores to another who does an even better job of planning her trips than I did. I left friends behind who did not understand my choice to become a mambo. I left a job behind that filled my wallet but not my soul. And I never looked back.

I also brought things with me that were worth having. I brought my Donald because i cannot live my life without him. I brought my brother and sister along, because I cannot live without them in my life, either. I brought along my friends who did understand my choices and decided they wanted to try this new path with me. And I continue to find others who feel as I did that day.

That I would not lay down because of the terrorists. That I would not stop being who I am (defiantly and proudly American). And that I would seek a way to find communion with all people, regardless of color, creed or nationality. Because if 21 diverse nations of Africans could find a way to rise above their station, praise God above and seek Ginen, then so would I. And if that meant leaving behind some things for the betterment of myself and others, then so be it.

One of my favorite films is Gattica, about a man named Vincent who wants to be an astronaut and can't due to his physical size. He goes through hell to change in order to realize his goal. When telling his brother why he did this, he relates a story from their childhood. How they used to try to swim out to an island, but never made it. Until one day, Vincent does make it. When his brother asks him how, his answer was "You want to know how I did it? This is how I did it, Anton: I never saved anything for the swim back." Meaning it was the island or drown.

After 9/11, I never saved anything for the swim back either. And I do not regret it. It would sully the memory of my friends who died on 9/11. And so, for Bobby, Bill and Wilson, I swam like hell for the distant shore and I made it. I will see you all on the other side one day. Ayibobo.

Disasters, Dogs and Ogoun - oh my.

I make a lot of religious artwork on commission. Its typical of Vodou sosyetes to have specific spirits they work with, and to have their own sets of colors and so forth. I set lights, invoke Legba to open the door for me, and to give me the best possible inspiration for what I do. The great Gatekeeper does, but sometimes, He likes the work so much, its derailed before I can even get it completed. Does He do this on purpose? Am I just not paying attention? I am not sure -- artwork is still a messy business at best. Paint is wet, glue to sticks to everything and everywhere except the place you want it to, and the dogs don't help with their snuffly noses and dirty paws. I start with good intentions, but after a week like this one, I begin to understand how that road to hell is actually paved.  Witness the following disasters, large and small:

I have a new client who was recently initiated into a Makaya house. He has been requesting some very specific work from me and as we've been on a Makaya high lately, this work seemed fitting. I am very happy to oblige him. I set the table of art (or tableau de arte, take your pick) with a prayer, a candle for Makaya and began sketching.  I make several drawings when I work, to help get the kinks out and to focus my ideas.  Paint and glue are unforgiving, so its better to approach with a plan than to wing it and regret it later. Having gathered my ideas and formulated a plan, I took the time to find materials suited to the task and purchased a couple very cool bottles, some new embellishments (flat back sequins and such) and reviewed the incoming requests.


The first commission was a boutey for Ogoun Flambeau.  This particular Ogou is served in my client's lineage with black and small gold highlights. It's a take off on the above chromolith of Saint George fighting the dragon. Saint George is wearing black armor with golden highlights. The correlation made sense to me -  in Haiti the saint chromos are not aligned because of the particular saint themselves, but more for the colors and decoration in the pictures. St. George wears black armor, so a black boutey was the right offering vessel for this fiery avatar of the Ogoun clan.

I had a fabulous bottle I'd purchased and it seemed perfect for this project. It was square shaped, with raised detail that made it seem like armor. I worked very hard on getting all the details just right, with flat back embellishments, tiny gold sequins and just enough bling to echo the look of the armor in chromo. Upon completion, I invoked Flambeau into the piece. Although we were serving the Marine Lwa that weekend, I slipped the boutey downstairs in the tmple and placed it on the Petro altar for the evening. Sure enough, several of the hounsi found it and wanted to know all about the Lwa, who it was for and when would they get one. They'll just have to wait for a bit on that. I also strung a lovely kolye with black onyx, gold highlighted beads on hand knotted silk cord. A fitting kolye for a warrior.

The client was ecstatic with his artwork and commissioned a second one from me. This time, it was for Ogoun Ge Wouj. The fiery hot spirit is served in his house with red and gold highlights. No problem, I had a perfect companion bottle for the first.

I took my time painting it outside. Several light coats of red paint work better than a heavy one. However, I underestimated the pull of Ogoun for the dogs. Bodhi, my canine doppelganger and bonded familiar was very interested in what I was doing. Way too interested. He investigated the bottle thoroughly,  knocking it off the fence post twice while it was wet. Le sigh.  I cleaned his nose, the bottle and got the paint job to look proper.

Once back at my table of art, I started the embellishment. But the glue ate through the paint. I did not figure this out until the gold metal ribbon I was using slid off to one side, taking the paint with it. Add to this the fun of a large, slobber covered ball rolling across the table while I try to work. Deeper sigh.

I locked the dog out of the studio and came back to find all the sequins and crystals had also abandoned their places - the glue was removing the paint on the bottle and the finish was now ruined beyond repair. Argh.

Ok, back to square one. A trip to several of my thrift stores turned up a perfect candidate. Having learned my lesson, I left Bodhi in the house while I painted. He was occupied by the workers outside yesterday and today, so I was able to properly paint the base, setting it up for embellishments. I also made a trip to Home Depot for the right adhesive, and came back to embellish without the help of a snuffly wet nose checking my work. I am very happy with the finished product and have sent pics off to the client to see if he likes it.

As I cleaned up, I went to toss the ruined bottle when I turned it over in my had and saw the sun burst. In my morning meditations of late, I have been receiving very clear information regarding Legba's status as a solar Lwa. He has made several requests that I intend to follow up on, and now in hind sight I realize He wanted this boutey for Himself. Well, jeez, ya coulda told me sooner.

So now I will be in the basement, cleaning off the bottle and getting it ready for my Solar patron. My client will be getting his amazing Ge Wouj bottle and Bodhi will be assigned to study my artwork before I get it all done, so if there is a change, I can make it sooner rather than later.

Ogou Zé Wouj, O! Konsa yo ye!

Ogou Zé Wouj, O! Konsa yo ye!

Bouch manjé tout manjé, Le pa palé tout pawol,

Ogou Zé Wouj, O! Konsa yo ye!

I take commissions on artwork -- shrines, boutey, statuary and amulet jewelry. Please contact me on the sosyetedumarche.com page for details.

The Reading of September is Bossou Twa Kon

 Bossou Twa Kon is the manifestation of power and enlightenment.  His name comes from one of the kings of an Old Dahomey fiefdom called Whyda.  King Agadja Dosou (the child following a twin birth) had a son he named Bossou Achade.  As a ruler in Africa, Bossou Achade became Kadya Bossou, and in Haiti, he is simply called Bossou.

Kadja Bossou and Djobolo Bossou are both old Dahomean spirits. They come from a line of kings who ruled a place variously called Whida (sometimes written Whyda) .  These kings all went by the title "Agasou". The eldest and strongest (in terms of conquering the neighboring peoples) was a king named Akaba. When he died, his twin ruled, and then her power was usurped by her younger brother named Agadja. He was a dosou, the child born after twins. Thus his name was Agadja Dosou. 

Because of his status as a ruler, he is often called Kadya Dossou. His son was named Bossou Achade, and as a ruler, he too became Kadya Bossou. In Haiti, he is simply called Bossou or Kadja Bossou, meaning the "King Bossou". His name is also a reference to having been born with the umbilical cord around his neck.  And to add further mystery to his arrival on earth, Bossou is called a tohosou, a human being thought to be touched by God. When a child was born deformed in some way -- extra digits, hump backed, dwarfed -- or if the birth was unusual -- breach, umbilical cord wrapped around neck, caul on face -- then that child was thought to be very special. Having been touched by God's fire, their flesh visibly melted and molded by His touch, they are revered as something more than human. They become tohosou.  Bossou is recorded as being hunch back, the very image of a bull in his deformed shoulders.

When the Lwa Bossou comes around, it means that you are stuck in your place and cannot find egress to get out or get going. He is literally the bull in the china shop, ready to plow through whatever needs to be destroyed to bring about movement and forward momentum. When he arrives, I know that something big is about to happen for that person.  But he needs a focus or just like a bull that wanders aimlessly in a china shop, he can easily destroy what you do not want to be destroyed!

Bossou is also a liberator – which is another way of saying he can free you from whatever is restraining you.  Just as Kadja Bossou “freed” his kingdom from the slavers, the spirit Bossou does the same thing when he arrives for a servitor.

His colors are red, black and white. I usually serve him with a red scarf, a white candle with a black ribbon. I have actually made a scarf of red, black and white that I use to serve him.  Some folks use red penis candles, available from hoodoo shops. The idea behind the penis is the fecundity and fertility of the bull as symbolized by the phallus.  Use one of the images of the following images as his avatar: the triple ray El Christos, for the three rays emerging from Christ's head.  They represent the three horns that Bossou has.  St. Vincent de Paul is used for all the children he is holding (Bossou's ability to carry with ease, any burden given him is legendary).

The brave and industrial bull of the pantheon, Bossou shoulders the burdens of the world.  Arriving in September, he will lend both the sosyete and you individually with the strength to carry through with your plans.  And just like a bull market, he is aggressive in doing so. If you need the push to get something done, then September is the month to do it – the bull will lend you his considerable strength to get your project off the ground or even finished.

September’s Shadow is the Wheel of Fortune:  This is the card of destiny and possibilities, a reminder that all things shall pass so long as we do not forget the lessons learned. The mambo declares her right to serve the Lwa with her raised hand, the same position taken in Freemasonry as the Due Guard of a Fellow Craft.  It is the primary salute offered in a Vodou house to the Spirits, a gesture that shows both inclusiveness and welcome.  She stands in front of a sugar millwheel, the symbol of oppression, fortune and power.  But this wheel is done.  It hangs as a reminder that the past is gone but not forgotten. And that we must move forward, remembering the past so as not to repeat past mistakes.  In conjunction with Bossou, the bull provides a power to move across difficulties and the shadow says to remember what you did so you don’t do it again.

Financially it means a break in your expenses and the possibility of movement toward a better position or better compensation.  But the Wheel of Fortune needs you to comply as well.  You have a big say in how your life evolves, and the wheel keeps moving, ever forward, bringing around new ideas and new possibilities.

How are you serving?

I am planning menus, making travel arrangements for a variety of people, and trying to fit a couple mattresses in the guest bedroom so people have some place to sleep. Tomorrow morning I will shop for meals like it's Thanksgiving, buy enough toilet tissue to serve a small army platoon, and hope my sewer lines don't back up on Saturday. I will lay in ice, soda and tea for both hot and cold beverages; make sure we have a couple pounds of Haitian coffee and a couple quarts of cold cream; tally up the candles, cakes, perfume and clean head scarfs. I will wash two sets of dishes (one for us and one for spirit) and lay out bed linens, white clothing, and table cloths. Nope, it's a not a holiday -- its the Lwa's service day and it's a big one. We perform our annual Lave Tet or head washing on the point (or "pwen') of the Marine Lwa (that's Agwe, LaSiren and LaBalen to the non-members.) It's a huge party to plan and execute and I try to make sure I've got all my t's crossed and i's dotted. But all this shopping, baking, cooking and planning has got me to thinking.


When one becomes an Asogwe priest, be it mambo or houngan, there is an inherent and unspoken command that comes along with the rank that says 'you will be of service.' What exactly, does that mean? "Of service..." Over the years, I have seen the term "of service" become interpreted as making fets, hosting Lwa parties and running Kanzos. That's all fine and dandy, but surely there is more to being a priest than knowing how to house and feed fifty people every month?

I am especially focused on that term -- of service -- as I am speaking at the KOSANBA conference in October about this very thing. I was chosen to speak because my husband and I run a large, international sosyete here in the USA.  It's particularly interesting to the Haitian constituency that will attend this conference as to how we are managing to be priests of Vodou when we aren't Haitian, don't have Haitian ancestors and don't live in Haiti. As I approach my 15th year of serving the Lwa, the foremost question I am asked by Haitians isn't why I am serving the Lwa, but how.  This line of questioning points out just how entwined the religion of Vodou is to the country of Haiti.  And these days, it is the same question I've begun asking myself.  How are you serving the Lwa?

I spend my days in ritual poise. That means I pray, I visit the sick, I offer a sympathetic ear, I make meals and I work on charity projects. Occasionally, I get art commissions which helps pay the bills. I also offer monthly fets to the Lwa. Big, elaborate, multi-day events that entail lots of planning, cooking, housing and singing for the 20 - 40 folks who come to the service. It also follows that I spend a portion of the following week cleaning, putting away and resetting my house back to normal, until the next month when I do it all over again. We have been doing this religiously (pun intended) for over 30 years; the first 15 years as ceremonial magicians, the last 15 as Vodouisants. It's fun, energizing and especially fulfilling to me personally. This past weekend we baptized two babies into the faith. It's a rewarding time indeed. But now as I approach my 15th year of priesthood, I want to do more.

I believe it is the job of every Asogwe of my age at least, to begin to prepare those who follow to take over the work. In Ceremonial language, we called it the Great Work. This is a reference to the idea of keeping the gods (God) appeased through ritual and propitiation. There is a long held belief that the world of men and the realm of the gods should not become intertwined. When these two places do intersect, trouble follows. And there is also an unspoken understanding that if you don't make offerings, propitiation or service, then the gods (God) will come looking for it, once again violating the Kalunga and intermixing the world. Calamity almost always follows. So the role of the priest is to help keep the balance as it were. I make an offering to Legba, and Legba agrees not to come looking for his stuff. Likewise, we make service for the Lwa, and they arrive safely and sanely through the act of possession into this realm. If not, imbalance reigns again.

I am taking the time to prepare my godchildren to be this kind of priest. To know the prayers, the langaj of the spirits. To make the right offerings on the right days, to the correct Lwa. To be able to set up a proper space to work in, and to help those who come to them for succor. And as I do this, I find my own role changing in subtle ways. We still offer service, but others now lead. I take the time to breathe on fet days, allowing them to step up and do their thing. My "service to the Lwa' is now formed by stepping back and giving others a chance to shine.

We have a whole new group of people who are learning to be servitors and they are all under 12 years of age. My "service to the Lwa" is now formed by creating a learning program for them - in clear and simple language so that they can become servitors. There is new life in the form of babies, baptized this weekend and beginning their own journey to the faith. I found it delightfully amazing that these tiny beings not only heard me singing while they were in their mommie's bellies but that they remembered. They both squealed in delight as I sang the opening stanzas to the Priye Ginen, and danced with utter abandon to the rhythms of the drum.

But the real moment came late in the night as Gran Ibo made her appearance. She was particularly focused on one of the babies, and danced before him, swirling and touching his face. He sat perfectly still, mesmerized by her movements.  His huge grin and wide-eye amazement stunned everyone present.  Not in the least bit afraid, he coo'd with delight as she stroked his face, telling him he was hers. Ayibobo - if the Lwa are pleased, then I am too.

My "service to the Lwa" is becoming more of an outreach practice. It is writing books about Vodou, speaking at conferences on my experiences as a Mambo leading a house here in the USA.  It's writing this blog so that others may find their way to the Spirits.  And it is in my artwork, my daily singing and my gardens to the Lwa. My "service to the Lwa" has expanded, moving beyond my abilities to plan parties and into the world as a real life practice. As it should be.

When I speak at the conference in October, this is what I will tell the audience. I came to Vodou because of a small black man who has always accompanied me in life. I stayed in Vodou because it gives me joy to sing to the Spirits. And I will remain in Vodou because the next generation is looking at me to learn how to be an Asogwe. I think that's what Asogwe really means - an example to follow. Its a big commitment, but then I've never been one to shirk away from big commitments.

For example, right now, I gotta go hang out those eight sets of bed linens, put away the place settings for 15 people and reset a temple back for regular use. An asogwe's job is never done. Ayibobo.

August is Gran Ibo

The card for this month is Gran Ibo, a mysterious spirit, whose worship has been forgotten in Haiti. The Ibo were a proud nation of Africans who chose to die free rather than live as slaves.  Here in the US, we have a place called Ibo Landing in Georgia. It is remembered as the place where a group of Ibos chose to drown rather than step onto the land as slaves.  The story continues to say they turned into birds and flew away. I find that an interesting intersection of myth and legend.  In Vodou, we say the ancestors become birds who perch in the mighty Mapou tree, singing and calling to us until they return to God.  Perhaps, it is the Ibos then who sing from the top of our enormous tree in the yard, calling to us before service work.

Legend also says that Gran Ibo was a maroon slave who escaped to the mountains, where she welcome everyone - Africans, Buccaneers, Taino and Arawak peoples into her camps. She was a free leader, and she granted that same status to anyone who sought her out in the mountain tops. Although we think of Haiti as an island, with white beaches, the interior has huge mountain ranges, some of which are nearly impassable. Those very same forests and rocky aeries was where the runaway slaves too refuge from the Spanish and French masters.

Although the Ibos are gone, we still have their songs.  They are amongst the most danceable of melodies.  When I want to get the house moving energetically in service, I throw an Ibo song to the choir, and invariably people leap to their feet and begin to dance with great joy and enthusiasm.  A Haitian mambo who was gracing our temple with her presence once told me that she hadn’t heard any of the Ibo songs I sing in ages, and she was very grateful to hear them as her grandmother used to sing them as well.  I felt honored to be able to share them with her.

Gran Ibo is the ancient mother of the Ibo nation and the great comforter.  She is said to be the guardian of the flags of a houmfort. Gran Ibo is the one who takes it all in – all the secrets, all the people, all the pain and suffering.  Her symbol is a canari jar, the earthen vessel in which she carries her power and secrets.  The Ibos used canari jars, govis and other clay containers for storing their foods and as a symbol of their ancestral grounds.  Forcibly removed from Africa where their family land was, and unable to have sacred ground here in the new world, the Ibos used their canaris and govis in place of the earth, for the holy burial of their dead.  In this month of August, we will need to feed our ancestors to help keep our lives in equilibrium.

 

If you have a govi from your kanzo, this is a good month to feed it and redress it.  Use three different essential oils that speak to you – a sweet one such as an orange or spearmint; a sharp one like pepper or basil; and a floral like jasmine or ylang ylang.  Place your govi on the altar, and drop three of each oil into the vessel.  As you do so, say the following prayer:

(drop the sweet oil) – For those I love who have gone before me.

(drop the sharp oil) – For those I lost in bitterness

(drop the floral) – For those who are yet to come.

Sit before the vessels and inhale deeply the three scents.  Allow your mind to drift and later, make note of any images, words or feelings that came to you. These are the messages of the ancestors. Building upon them will bring blessings into your life.

The shadow of August is exalted, as represented by the Ayiti (Hierophant) card.  This card’s traditional meaning is one of spirituality, religion, ritual and doing the right thing.  I chose to use Max Beauvoir as the Hierophant, because of his position in Vodou in Haiti. He is very much the spiritual leader, and all about doing the right thing for Haiti and for the Vodouisants there.  As the shadow of Gran Ibo, this card lends powerful consciousness to your choices. It will help you do the right thing for those who find their way to your door in August.  Your teacher may arrive, or you may become the teacher for someone who comes to you for help. Be prepared by feeding the ancestors, keeping them present on your altar, and allowing their wisdom to be your guide this month.

The Haitian Vodou Tarot Deck

I am working on a new tarot deck. I am tentatively calling it the Haitian Vodou Tarot, with the Major Arcana reflecting the Rider-Waite dynamic of an initiate's journey - only in mine, it's about Kanzo (the final initiation in Haitian Vodou and the ordination rites that make one a priest.) I am pretty happy with the Majors here - a few tweaks for color and style, but the images say what I want, and I am grateful to everyone who gave me permission to use their image or photos.

My Minor Arcana is hung on the Qabala, with four elemental association per sphere. And in place of the court cards, I used the Four Elements as nations of West Africa, illustrating the rites related to each one. Simple, right? Wrong.

I am not a 'drawing' artist - I sculpt. I worked as a graphic designer for 30 years, before I hung up my protractor permanently. And these days I am more of an assemblage worker than sculptor, per se. But still, form is my medium, my muse and my focus. Working in visual medium on this deck is a challenge to me - not that I don't like a challenge. I am a Scorpio after all...

But it has been real job finding the images that say what I want to say, and then getting permission to use them or buying the images outright. I've probably spent close to $500 on royalty free images from Deposit Photos and Dreamstime. Excellent sources btw, but still a huge out of pocket expense for a deck that might not be published until next year. I also dug deep into our own national treasure chest known as the Library of Congress. They are amazing folks down in DC - they take online requests, do all the leg work and best of all - it's free! Their online digital collections are extensive, so if anyone is looking for vintage whatever, I heartily suggest checking them out.

And of course, I am writing the essays for each card; a major under taking in and of itself. No deck gets out there today without a book attached, so I am in fact doing two projects at one time. And I just found out I am presenting a panel on Haitian Vodou in the USA at a very prestigious conference in Montreal this fall.  Therefore, I will not be taking on any new work while I dig into these three projects.

But -- I thought I'd give y'all a sneak preview at the Major Arcana images, since I am probably a year from publishing the completed project. Please, any and all comments, criticisms and compliments are welcome at this stage. Just curious what all comes this way. Ayibobo!

No artwork is ever done in a vacuum. Many hands lend ashe to the work. Here are the folks who helped me make my vision a reality:

Photography Credits:

Bon Houngan, Gro Mambo, Tambouye, Possession, Hanged Man, Jete Dlo, Z'twal were photographed by Kirstin Brug

Empress, Emperor, Justice, The Devil, The Tower, Brule Zin, Asogwe Kanzo were photographed by me, Mambo Vye Zo

Suleliye, Leve Kanzo from my private collection of my 2003 Kanzo in Jacmel, Haiti

Composite Photos:

Wheel of Fortune's sugar mill wheel was licensed from Dreamstime, with the Wheel of Fortune's "Elder Mambo" used with permission from the Riguad estate.

The Hierophant is a composite from a photo by Patrick Souvenir (with permission) and background shot in our yard in 2007.

The Lovers is a composite photo with the couple shot by by Jake Price for the Broward News Times (with permission) and our Petro altar shot by me.

Holy Death is a composite photo with the Red Capped Man licensed from Dreamstime and the background Carnival on the street in Jacmel, Haiti, shot by me in 2007.

La Ren Luminiere - TBD