Though frequently at odds with our esteemed brother Alex Sanders, we always respected Eleanor's elves & woodland fairies take on our common devotions. True, we have chosen a less "bark & moss" path to the truth, preferring upscale Thai cuisine, raffish opening nights of Wallace Shawn plays, perfect gin martinis & rainy afternoons at the cinema in drowsy, besotted thrall to scratchy prints of Heinrich Galeen's Alraune. Still, there's something to be said for dancing naked in the rotting leaves & crumbling shagbark of some Northumbrian forest, calling out the spirits of the moon while enraptured by all manner of phallic spotted mushroom & toadstool, fucking & melding as the seasons meld & fuck.
Anyway, though there's been some bad blood between Ray, Gerald Gardner & ourselves, we don't intend to repeat the tedious schisms of our Christian brothers & sisters. Our path is love after all & theirs is adherence to inconsequential & divisive minutiae which invariably leads to sour stomachs & mid-afternoon headaches. We are the city mice, bound by friendship & common interests to Sanders, Parsons, Anger & Crowley; they are they country mice & we'll eat the Christian grain bag down to crumbs from whichever way & meet in the middle to mock them all.
These photographs of Eleanor & her delightful coven first appeared in the British magazine Tit-Bits. They are credited to photojournalist Terence Spencer.
|The quaint home of Eleanor Bone & her coven.|