her witchcraft journey, finding her voice, and how she is teaching others to do the same
On the surface, Anacia Sessoms is a YouTuber, model, Editor-in-Chief of Artsy Butterfly Magazine, and more. At her core, though, she is an ecofeminist art witch, a label that accurately ties all the intricate parts of her together, and one that underlies all her current and future endeavors. Over the course of the past year, she has used her many digital platforms to bring light to witchcraft, and how it may help others embark on their own much-needed healing journey.
My mom gifted me a rose quartz bracelet for my six teenth birthday, but I didn’t know what crystals were. I never really understood them up until that point. I knew I felt the energy from the bracelet and that I was afraid of it at first because it was too intense. I then started to learn more about my birth chart because I wanted to find myself instead of continuing to conform to everyone’s version of me they have in their heads. I tended to be the person that everyone wanted me to be instead of myself. I read about things that I wouldn’t even admit to myself and it was kind of scary learning –like learning about myself.
October 2020 is when I started becoming more pub lic about it. I was scared because I knew people saw witchcraft as worshipping demonic entities. Personally,
I choose to practice on my terms. I connect it to my art, which is my craft, and use water and paint as my tools. People didn’t understand that, so I identified myself as an Art Witch.
For me, there isn’t a “practice” to witchcraft. It also is not a trend; it’s a self-discovery journey. I intend to heal myself, find out who I am. I’ve never done it for materi alistic reasons – I can’t just say, “I want this,” and force it to happen.
How do you incorporate ecofeminism into your practice?
I’m a nature witch; I like connecting to things in nature. I’m vegan so I don’t like to eat any animal products, I just like to preserve the Earth. There was a certain period where I felt more gravitated towards water magic and more intentional with water. Now I do more earthwork. Florals, for me, represent me still growing. I like to help people feel more confident in themselves naturally.
I also love to support women. That’s a passion of mine. I love to uplift women and help them recognize their powers and authenticity. Because of these two passions of mine, I began to learn more about ecofeminism, and I felt very connected to it.
On
Interview by Mia Hollie
What does working with elements such as water and Earth look like? What do you do when working with these elements?
I used to work with regular water, like tap water. I had to travel to natural water (rivers, lakes). Certain types of water help place certain kinds of intentions. Recently, I have been using rainwater a lot, which is suitable for cleansing my mind and improving my creative process. It gets me in the right mode.
Being at present with myself is something I’ve been working on lately. Even when I take showers and baths, I put crystals in the water to charge the water and help me heal and feel more aligned with my energy. I use water as a way to heal and balance myself.
You have to find the elements you are connected with. I personally don’t like candles, but some people do fire work with candles or air work with incents and sage. Crystals are best for Earth work.
I am also trying to learn more about different forms of healing now that I am older. It’s refreshing to hear your perspective as someone who is putting consistent, intentional effort into their own journey.
I’m not going to lie, I was ter rified to come out and do the stuff I am doing. I have had anxiety all my life. I never really felt like I could have a voice, and now that I have found my voice, I feel like I am better able to help other people. It feels good to know that people want to know more. As long as I get my message out there, I know that one person is listening, which means a lot to me.
I had people to tell me to stop, that I was doing too much. It wouldn’t bother me, but it would be at the back of my mind. It’s still there, I won’t ignore it, but at the end of the day I am doing something to help ME out. I don’t care about numbers, either. As long as I get my message out there, I know that one person is listening, which means a lot to me.
Would you say that there is a big difference between practicing spirituality and witchcraft, or do you find many similarities between the two?
At first, I felt like I had to choose one and I didn’t
feel comfortable about that. I kid you not, I have about five notebooks worth of research about differing practices (Paganism, Rikki). I am not a rebel, but I wouldn’t say I like to follow things that are orchestrated in a certain way. With witchcraft and spirituality, I was able to branch of from both while also tying them together based on my own healing journey and belief system. I take things from here and there and combine them into one. But like I said, I am really into nature, so everything I learn, I tie it back to that.
A big misconception is moldavite. Many people say bad things will happen to you, or that spells won’t work with moldavite. The crystals will only work with the energy you have. They work in tandem with your alignment and journey. Essentially, this means that whatever you do comes back to you, and I’ve realized that in many ways. When I was first experimenting with witchcraft, things manifested, but they would also backlash. This was because I used to set my inten tions in ways that would come with unexpected hardships. I learned that I have to be very precise about what I want.
Crystals will still heal you if you are in a negative place, but the healing process will not be what you think it is. You may think you are having bad luck, but all those things happen in order to teach you more about yourself.
The blood moon cycle is basically your menstru al cycle. People bleed throughout the month during different phases of the moon’s cycle. The new moon is good for cleansing and restoration, and that is when most people get their men strual cycle. What I want people to understand most about the Blood Moon Cycle is that ener gies go along with your menstrual – you’re not just bleeding. The white moon cycle, red moon cycle, and pink moon cycle also exist. There is even such a thing as blood magic, but it is pretty intense. Each cycle influences your body, so you can use the energy of your cycle and the moon to help manifest things in your life.
by Jaya Sudhakar
five years from now he will have long since painted over the blood on his hands (andyourscarswillstillshowthroughyourclothes) your eyes will never quite be dry (buthewillcoverhismalicewithhisdiamondsmile) he will be perfuming his throat with empty words of regret (andyouwillstillbebleachingyourtaintedsilhouette) five years from now guilty hands will be clean and (thecorpsesthatrot) will remain unseen.
I am the chill in your bones when The wind is too strong The prickling anxiety laced in your skin As you fear your ambitions rot at your feet I am the unease that creeps into your dreams Haunts your memories
You wish the girl with her alternative thoughts Would combust into stars, that she would just disappear and stop stealing your jobs
I am not a nice girl who Sips tea without making a sound Who your son can show off to all the aunties in this town I am not a nice girl So I am here to steal all your jobs And I’m not going home
I should have seen it then when she said she was too upset to sleep Then came the dreams balls of paper crumpled, like stars from the sky rotting at her feet Voice so smooth like fine whisky, or brandy, or scotch or any of the other expensive things she ceased indulgence in she said, she didn’t want to miss it not this time, not again
I should have seen it then, when she said she liked my new friends like she wasn’t one too entrusting my future as if she was going away soon
To the girl, who is sweet, only eighteen stars in her eyes, body like Aphrodite lithe like art, Gin and Vodka and Whisky she hates the taste folding in on herself collapsing like a dying star infatuated by men, who don’t belong to her, or wives, or lovers, or children
A bleeding womb An ache so deep like it’s from a dream someone else’s life
For the girl, who was so sweet only nineteen who made you think if you glanced away even for a moment she would burst open and bloom into a woman buried deep inside her perfect body
American recording and visual artist Siv Disa tells us about how she developed her sound and what is in store for her debut album Dream House
by Mia Hollie
If you want to know what inspires American singer-songwriter Siv Disa, the answer may be better found by asking what her favorite movies are. Charlie Kaufman’s Adapta tion (2002) happens to be one of her go-to’s.
“It’s surreal, but not through special effects or anything like that,” she says. “The story explodes outwards into a universe where other things are possible.”
Accordingly, the unconventional and other worldly sit front and center on Disa’s debut album. Set to release this fall under UKbased label Trapped Animal Records, Dream House is a culmination of songs, or metaphor ical rooms, that lead into different, carefully crafted worlds. While the A-side of the album is fast-paced and pop-esque, the B-side is its darker twin.
“I like the idea of someone com ing into the first side of the album just bopping along, then getting sucked into the world of it on the other side,” she says.
This ability to traverse dimensions through song is a practice that Disa has been honing as a musician for nearly her entire life – but not in ways you may expect. Aside from dab bling in her parent’s CD collection listening to the likes of The Supremes and Radiohead, she also gained an appreciation for music through years of classical training. This ultimately led to her earning a bachelor’s degree in music composition and, more recently, her relo cating to Reykjavik, Iceland, to work on her master’s degree in the same field. Before this, she spent time in New York City performing
with her band under the name Siv Disa and the Sea Divers.
For her, music has always been in the picture. But, despite her already distinct sound, she says that the act of combining songwriting and production is a recent development.
“I started writing songs when I was maybe 12, but I didn’t record music until I was 23, so there was a big gap where there was only ever me and a piano,” she says. “That changed how I felt about genre and the production of something.”
If Disa’s previous work is any indicator for what to expect of her forthcoming album, then Dream House will be a nesting grounds for the singer’s most introspective thoughts. From unpacking the emotions under the faltering umbrella of “Fear” in 2020 to reflecting on nights consumed by detachment in a bustling city in her latest release, “Music in the Streets,” Disa’s knack for tack ling complex emotions through raw lyricism shows itself undisguisedly throughout her entire discography.
“As I think back to why I started writing mu sic and songs, it was kind of for that – releas ing bottled-up emotions,” she says. “But it was also a process for understanding why I was feeling something.”
And until we are all able to visit Disa’s imagi native dream home this November 11, you can stream her music on Spotify or Soundcloud.
S h e s i t s a l o n e a t a bl e f o r s i x a n d ts w i t h o u t a w o r d ,
V e l v e t , l e a t h e r ,
How long can this lifestyle satisfy her hunger?
The name and story behind it were stamped in inked letters across newspapers and magazines as whispers floated among hustled clusters gathered around tea stalls and restaurants. Some raged on the internet while a few others exploded into tirades on news channels and forums. The Park Street rape case had the nation hitched in a frenzy, the attention fixated further on the survivor of the brutal assault, Suzette Jordan; whose story was labelled by a dysfunctional system, a culture of mass slutshaming, a struggle for change and a mo mentous decision, that changed the course of societal and constitutional ideals and truly invoked a systemic change, even in the midst of prominent names and dismissive leaders.
Suzette was defiant, to say the least. In perspective, she defied society’s expectations as a single working mother at 37, bold and unafraid, someone ordained her life respectfully according to her will and refused to let misogynistic aspirations mold her into someone she isn’t. Misogynistic aspirations that were enforced by a widespread perception of how women and their morality were weighed. That viewed Suzette’s choices as the fruits of her sentence, defined her “worth” by the fact that she would party with her dear friends and would frequent nightclubs, disregarded the gravity of the crime committed and imposed upon her a hostile deluge, one that demanded her to be silenced; forever. But Suzette was defiant.
The fateful evening of 6th February 2012 had been a delightful one for Suzette who had visited a nightclub in the posh area of Park Street, Kolkata; until 5 unassuming young men offered to drop her at her residence. Pleased, she boarded on, not realizing the snares that were bound about her that very moment; a moment that changed her life forever. Within the same moving car, Suzette was brutally gang-raped, beaten and later flung near Exide Crossing, across Calcutta Club. Severely injured, bleeding and traumatized, Suzette grimly board ed a taxi for her home at Behala around 3:30 am.
For 3 days, Suzette remained at home, the ordeal having shattered her being. Her two daughters encouraged her to file an FIR against the crime, though it’s understand able while someone would have been apprehensive. The treatment of sexual assault in South Asian communities has always been in itself, a sham. Rather than an affront
to the rights and autonomy of an individual, all forms of sexual assault, namely rape have been viewed as a societal affair. A woman’s virginity and chastity determine her worth and the degree of her respect, regard less of her consent as her physical, emotional, social and sexual rights are debated about. Rape convolutes from a targeted crime of the highest degree to a matter of social affront.
Accordingly, rape is “invited” as somehow the choices of an individual reduce her consent to nil. Assault is “provoked” and is the responsibility of the victim herself and brands the ostracization and humiliation of her family and close ones. It becomes a blot on her “character” and the sentence for the unpunishable crime for being bru talized is either deemed by a lifetime of subdued silence for an assault rids her of the capability to persist and live a liberated life, or even death itself. Survivors also experience absolutely no support from the law enforce ment and the police force, experiencing slut-shaming and accusatory responses, with medical tests and inquiries being brutally shameful and demeaning.
And those apprehensions proved right for what Suzette faced was a cycle of systemic persecution that contin ued across the years of her struggles. When she went to the station to lodge her complaint, the presiding officer scoffed at her face, laughed at her plight and then called upon other officers to hear her tale. Humiliatingly, she was asked to retell her experience to every residing policeman, each questioning whether she was actually raped, demanding to know “How was it possible to be raped in a car?” and the “positions” she was raped in. Suzette found herself being branded as a perpetrator and was cut off from legal amenities.
A medical test was only ordered 8 days after the assault, where the investigating doctor continued to shame and objectify her, as she found herself repeating her tale in public amidst ridicule and scorn at the hospital. She was made to strip down and subjected to a finger test despite a swab test as the doctors prodded about in an attempt to appear comforting. One remarked that she was “lucky she was fair” as the bruises were still visible while another commented on her tattoo. The medical examination report noted ‘injury marks to private parts’, proving that she was raped. Again, it was the added extent of brutality that she received during the assault
that convinced the doctors of her assault rather than the act itself. Suzette was trapped in a maze of insen sitive judgement and denial by the very system that was put in place to support her struggle, governed by educated professionals.
What her case severely highlighted was the extent of internalized misogyny, especially by women in positions of power. Mamata Banerjee, the then Prime Minister of West Bengal and a seemingly avid enthusiast for women empowerment and justice for victims, dismissed Suzette’s accusations as “manufactured story” to shame the government, called her a liar and reduce her trauma to purely a fabrication of political discourse and value; further enabling TMC MP Kakoli Ghosh Dastidar, to con demn Suzette, publically slutshame her and scrutinize her story. Questions were raised as to why a 37-year-old mother of two was, in a sense, enjoying life and it was termed a “deal gone wrong” in the most shamefully abject way possible by Dastidar.
In a sporadic attempt to ensure Suzette’s voice was subdued, even when IPS Damayanti Sen, the presiding investigating officer and the among the only institutional figures that truly sympathized with Suzette and was determined to bring her justice; swiftly cracked the case in a mere 4 days; she was transferred and shunted off Barrackpore as DIG (Training). The final nail was struck on the coffin when during the proceedings of the trial, the defense lawyer held up the undergarments that she wore during the night and used that as a mark of her being “characterless”; a mark of the normalization of a brutal crime; a mark of the “re-rape” by the system and the state she was repeatedly struck with. It was then when she burst into tears and hopelessly wept as the female judge during the trial refused to counter the act, remained numb to her pleas and upheld the action. It was almost as if Suzette being alive and well; not being subjected to the most vicious torture; not being downcast or forlorn made her a figment of scorn. When the brutal 2012 Delhi gang-rape case gained headlines and rattled the nation’s conscience, Suzette was often found in the midst of an unexplainable comparison. The “pitiful” victim versus the “bad” one was what people envisioned the situation as. It raised a crucially difficult discussion, did a rape victim suffer a worse fate when alive rather than dead? Does her life or struggle hold no value once she ceases to exist? As the news of the assault spread, so was Suzette’s identity and safety jeopardized, way before she decided to name herself. The reason for her vicious onslaught primarily fixated around the fact that Suzette’s story did not fit the mold of a “typical” rape victim.
Suzette continued to live and be unafraid, something which was unbearable to those who considered sexual assault in itself as a woman’s greatest flaw, an act that will continue to burden her across her life. It was as if somehow Suzette’s choices justified her assault, and her decision to continue to fight further emboldened the idea. To almost retaliate to this immense folly of hers to demand justice; to demand dignity, Suzette gradually found herself deprived of emotional, social and financial support. People questioned her integrity, termed her a prostitute; as if a sex worker isn’t an individual equally susceptible to the act of an assault and possesses the right to assert their consent and ostracized her as well as her two daughters. She was constantly denied employment despite possessing the qualifications and possessing expertise. Her being a single mother was brought into vivacious debate, with people condemning her “lifestyle”. Her experience was branded as an alterca tion, the intensity of the crime somehow seeping away because Suzette was well, someone who lived her life on her own terms with her head held high. The spotlight was drawn from the accused to the survivor; someone who was now equally guilty and was being punished with every possible support ripped away.
But Suzette refused to give up; and she never did. Mirroring a relentless spirit across her trials as the years went on, Suzette decided to do the unthinkable after witnessing the extent of a brutal rape in Kamdhuni, Basarat. The news made her realize the intensity of sexual violence and how often victims would be shut down; too ashamed to fight back, too ashamed to seek justice, too ashamed to thrive and too ashamed to live. To employ her experience to fight a colossal battle of male chauvinism and objectification, Suzette decided to disclose her name. She wasn’t afraid or ashamed because she had no reason to do so. She was a survivor. She had not committed any wrong by demanding justice for an act that had scarred her.
In Suzette’s own words “Why should I hide my iden tity when it was not even my fault? Why should I be ashamed of something that I did not give rise to? I was subjected to brutality, I was subjected to torture, and I was subjected to rape, and I am fighting and I will fight.” And fight she did. She continued to strive for justice while calling out the system and demanding a change in societal perceptions as well as the legal process. By creating a support base for victims, she used her social media to spread much needed awareness about pro ceedings and transformations in the law, aiding survi vors to deal with their trauma and embracing a renewed life. She also partook in speeches and protests, including the city’s edition of Slut Walk which was a testament to everything Suzette stood for. Her battle continues to be etched in gold for eons to come, a battle for every survi vor out there, for justice and for dignity.
your stupid smile, an old hendrix song i heard you sing, my ugly nose, your silver ring, my long, tan gled letters, my frizzy rain hair, your muddy accent, your string of nearby love affairs, my broken cups, wands and cigars,
your cold shoulder, your holy sobriety, my eyes crossed with stars, your mother’s old music player, your dylan blue eyes, my capulet costume, my weakness for a vagabond’s lies, my rosary and prayers in candlelight, my unorthodox roots,
your poppy incense, your beat poetry combat boots. your chicago manners, they could only take you so far, telling every other girl, ‘you look like dora maar’, you took drugs like it was 1971
my horoscope told me to run, my shrink said you were just what they call old money fun, my best friend’s big brother, he warned me you weren’t the one, you drowned my screams to stay numb, but your eyes stick to me still, like blood on a warm gun.
I watched as a girl said she never sent nudes. She is an actor, a public figure who could have her whole life ruined with a picture of that magnitude being leaked. I sat, reminiscing on the words she said. I thought of all the nudes I had sent. I sent some just recently. If you ask me my body count, I wouldn’t lie. I’ve been with 9 different peo ple; more if you count oral sex as “real sex.” Her words left me shaking. Her mindset is one that is understandable for the safety of her image, her career and the love and care she receives.
But where does that leave me, with those same dreams of being a public figure who has engaged in “blasphemous” actions. I admit to you the state of my sexual part nership to express my own idea of sexual liberation. Liberation that lets my dreams live in the same world as my sexual desires. If your opinion of me has changed, that is your problem, a problem I will not leave unexplored.
Sex is a topic which leaves tongues unlocked. Points on boundaries, preferences and its connection to humanity muddle up the conversation to a single individual’s opinion. However, because of this influence, it’s necessary to open and organize dis cussion on sex to move forward as people. Unfortunately, the current state of norms continuously chooses to minimize and hide these conversations, a choice that is detri mental to each generation.
Within the system of oppressions that exist in our society, the way sex is used as a meth od to discriminate and further marginalize groups is more evident than people wish to dive into. The ideas of beauty standards have a sexual basis, going all the way back to colonialism and slavery. It is shown in the way that white men raped women to destroy communities and create dominance. It is shown in the way that white women were put on a pedestal of sexual purity and wor thiness of protecting, using this innocence to their advantage.
In today’s standards, it exhibits itself one way in the LGBT movement with discussions on how pride should be sexually sanitized, even though sexual freedom is what the people are out to celebrate. It creeps its head in the way that fat people and dis abled people are ridiculed in the way they physically and sexually express themselves. The ideas and actions of intimacy are deprived from people trapped in the prison system and places like it.
Sexual liberation is a right everyone de serves. What that means can be determined from person to person. In many first-wave feminist conversations, it stops at the concept of boundaries regarding predatory male behavior and the ability to show off skin in peace. It then spans counterargu ments, such as the right toous, versus the right to celebrate promiscuity.
What of the men who experience sexual assault?
All of these arguments disregard the idea that sexual liberation is an individual expression against a system of different problems that in teract with sexuality.
The biggest proof of the misinformation about the way sex is misunderstood in its systematic impact shows up in the ways sex workers, people who work intimately with the business of sex, are not treated as if what they do is worthy of any dignity. To not include that many sex workers that are of marginalized identities, or the big gest perpetrators of sexual misconduct and sex worker abuse (that is, people with the privilege to disrupt the topic of sex as a valuable system) would be a disservice to my argument and the conversation.
It is important as a society to create and nurture the idea that a person’s sexual foot print should not affect their treatment if it maintains its boundaries. Nudes are not immoral. Sex is not immoral, having a STI is not immoral (not sharing that info with a part ner is questionable). Because of the way breasts are sexualized, its function as a body part has been stripped and turned into an object. Breast feeding is constantly portrayed as too intimate and shocking for public eyes. What we connotate as sexual often opens itself to disdain and ridicule. That is a power dynamic that is dangerous to leave unchecked.
One of the biggest reasons for people’s “fear of the explicit” has to do with the effect on children. But the methods we are using to hide and keep children unknowledgeable about sex is not in their benefit. Kids should not be interacting with sex, but not hidden on the importance it has in society and nuances that come with it. By hiding it, we let kids feed themselves on misinforma
tion, open them up to abuse, and have people spending their 20s handling sexual dysfunction.
As a child, I was consistently told by family that my vagina was not a thing to play with, that it was a bad object. All the while, I was being molested by someone in an attempt to garner love that I was being deprived of as a child. I was never told about sex and could never describe the trauma until I was introduced to it violently through the internet. All of this created the end product of a physiological sexual dysfunction known as vaginismus being my barrier to intimacy. I couldn’t even use tampons without clamping up and feeling violated.
I had to navigate my own ques tions, fears and trauma in order to not only overcome the disease, but to also feel like my body was finally mine. It took a long time to start to believe that I enjoyed sex and that it was not just a yearning for affection. To this day, I’m working on the mental damage this did to my confidence, self-preservation and boundar ies. For all I have done, I got here by myself. This should not have been the case.
Sexual education, boundaries, the sharing of stories and ideas, this may not have changed what happened, but changed the outcome. We as humans have the right to knowledge. It is in our DNA. We should treat sex as less of a joke, less of an immoral act, less of an untouchable concept, and more like an essential part of our existence that deserves better treatment than it has been getting.
I started Morpho Magazine in January 2021 to foster a creative outlet where marginalized voices would be heard. Although what I was creating was, in essence, a community of individuals who shared this common goal, I would have never imagined what this platform would bring for all of us.
To Morpho’s team, thank you for being dedicated to Morpho Magazine just as much as I am. It’s been my pleasure to work alongside you all since our establishment, but particularly the past few months as we finished our first issue. You are all talented and wonderful in your own right, and I am happy that VICES was made with the type of love you each possess. That small decision you made months ago to be part of this team means more to me than you know.
To our contributors, thank you for being the reason we are here. And if there is one thing I can tell you, it is this: as long as you all keep sharing your stories, you’ll never feel what you’re feeling alone. When we go through your submissions, we feel your pain, share your laughs and celebrate your growth. Your written and visual stories have power, but I understand that the process of sharing those stories creates vulnerability. Thank you so much for sharing with us and for having the courage to shed light on the kinds of stories that some of us aren’t ready to part ways with just yet.
And to everyone else who fucks with us, THANK YOU! We can’t wait to continue sharing these important stories from those who need to be heard the most.
Sincerely, Mia Hollie
I think I speak for everyone when I say how much Morpho wants to thank you and everyone involved for our debut issue! This is my first time designing a project this big and collaborative and I was so happy to be apart of this. Our contributers and staff did a fantastic job! I also wanted to give a special thanks to our creator, Mia, whose kind soul not only provided us this space, but always made me and everyone feel so welcomed (and so accommodating about deadlines!). And Ngozi, our talented writer who always makes me laugh no matter how bad my day went. This was a passion project from people dedicated towards inclusion and uplifting one another. I hope you enjoyed our first issue, VICES, and look forward to your support in the future! This one was for the gays~!
