Photography Arian Levanael (2015)

I wish to acknowledge the Wurundjeri People of the Kulin Nation in whose country I now live.

. . .

Papers, Short Stories and Articles

May 2016

Well, no, it's not quite May but here in Melbourne it is the season of Samhain, the end of one year and the dawn of another. We are burning the wheelbarrow this coming weekend, our new fire pit. To light a darkness that may be in your sighs, your hunger for learning or love or recognition. We open our burrows and our caves and our nests and invite spells of knowledge and poetry to come to the table.

I am putting the final touches to a memoir called INITIATION before the hunt is on for an Australian publisher (this time), one that will also allow those of you in the faraway lands to get a copy. You are in it. All of you. I have not left one person on the side of the road to bleed to death. May we meet within the deep places but may you never drown in anything.

For now, for you? A memory:


Ly de Angeles (March, 2016)

Into the perilous deep my grandmother dives. Trusting herself. There’s no one to see. No one to suck back a breath in fear for her. She has faith. Knows. She is seal, an otter, salmon. Whale breaching. She is in the womb and buried in earth. Nothing is she not and these depths are the true reality. They are the ocean and the way of the well. She is a cave that has no bottom so we may be sure there is no centre to this earth, only space. I yearn from my place of sleep. I love her for guiding me to this edge. I feel her bones in my bones. She is a line a million strong. Her lovers of a million years watch. Warrior bright. Old. Old and brazen. Young and sinewed from the long hunt. Banging their shields as the she bear passes, fearless of them, her cubs following her into the forest. Into the future. Into the bloodline of the unborn. Strong from the time she pushed him from her. Into the wild woman who shakes the world off. Into the wild man who walks on all fours by her side, his hide the colour of the snowline (for yet it is still winter), his eyes black as the wings of ravens, catching light. Taking flight. My grandmother is the silence. No one sees her dive.

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Almost Paleo blog for all those wicked and magic recipes for people giving up grains and sugar. Guaranteed luscious.

New interview (with Danette Wilson, USA, for Sunday Stew pagan magazine) may interest you WITCH (pdf)

For your ancestry information go to Bernard Casimir's website. Chat him up to find your tribe of thousands of years. You might already be in the research already amongst the thousands of pages on the site.

Priteni (2015) is now available in paperback, and via Kindle. See below for description.

PRITENI is a history story. Whilst being a scholarly work it is not written in dry rote academic verbage as are so many others relating to the so-called ancient Britons. I am not the person to do so as all of you know. The story of the Priteni (Britons), just prior to our cultural extinction 2,000 years ago, our absorbtion and annhialation through subsequent invasions, is incredibly rich and very long-lived. Yet hardly anyone alive knows it. Do you know who the Silures are? Are you one of them? Are you Catuvellauni? Tacitus is owed a vast song of praise for his accounts that attest to this history. Without his Annals we would have vanished forever. This book is for anyone interested in the indigenous, pagan Britons. This is important because we seem to have no stories to share with other indigenous cultures and that is not good enough. Genealogy, particularly in the computer age, has opened the floodgate to our ancestry. To our deeper roots. This paper/book is the result of thirty years research that only recently became necessary to write as a book. I have done so because one of the heros is Caradoc ap Silures, my great, great(by 10) grandfather. I have revered him and spoken of him for a long time and to find him on my tree of life was jaw dropping. We are all related. Every one of us, every species, every tree, stone and star. Remembering that is such a liberation.

Synopsis -

Many books have attempted to present the paganism of Britain. Most have failed for one simple reason. The indigenous people of tribal Priteni are discussed in the past tense, mistakenly assuring the public that they have long since died out.

The brutal invasion and slaughter, and subsequent colonisation of indigenous people, worldwide, has seen the attempt at eradication their lore, law, customs, language, culture and spirituality. In many instances the invading hegemonies attempt assimilation by effectively breeding them out.

De Angeles delivers the magic,culture, craft, legends, heroes and grief of a people stricken. The soul of an elder lore.To many this will be the first time they have even heard of these people, let alone celebrated their kinship.


Comeuppance is my latest short story, a crime thriller, not for the feint-hearted. Just me invoking my inner-maniac and for the sheer pleasure of working a different style: The Crime Factory Issue 15 (also available in hard copy), winner of the GritLit writers' competition, Hamilton, Canida, 2015.

I'm working at getting back up to the Northern Rivers before the year is out but otherwisw go see Kate Pasz in Burringbah.
Also Sydney so keep me in the loop.

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Paperback and Kindle

Paperback and Kindle

Paperback - revised 2012

Paperback and Kindle

Paperback and Kindle

Paperback and Kindle