By some miracle I saw Augustus St. George crossing the open playa just as we were dancing around the open flame of the Man’s body. Here’s what he told me tonight. Read part one of this series here; part two here; part three here; part 4 here; and part 5 here – Caveat
Or maybe that was the point. Maybe that’s why they built it, and the fruit is all too real.
“Botanica Bodhi Manman nan Bejeezus” offers tarot and palm readings, and provides magical oils and talismans to the needy. Some say it’s a shtick. Some say it’s one more example of New Age mumbo jumbo being play-acted for adult children.
But some swear by it. Some people swear by anything, sure. But I challenge anyone to walk into a gypsy voodoo magic shop in the middle of the desert, see the hand painted tarot cards, and not be impressed.
It’s a small room: colorful faces painted on the walls stared at me as I walked in the open door. Knives hung from the ceiling. The priestesses of Haiti-in-the-desert can do a brisk trade, but that was the burn night, and it was obvious they were getting ready to close up shop and head out to the big bonfire.
Chakra Kahn wasn’t anywhere to be seen. But they run a tight knit community here, they know each other’s business. I was willing to be that all I had to do was find the right member of her crew.
A white woman with dreadlocks wearing a ceremonial robe smiled at me when I walked in. “Welcome stranger,” she said. “The spirits will guide you today, if you’ll let them.”
“Mostly they lead me to whiskey.” I looked over at a table where a deck of tarot cards was spread out. “But in this case I’m here for a reading.” Read more »