Autumn is here. Scent of night hangs in the air. Promises of Halloween...

Many things will happen...

Fires are lit. Masks are worn and thrown away. Feel the wall of darkness, no longer, never a wall.

This Season started off with the celebration of Aleister Crowley, October 12. - his birth, his life and magic. A human being with faults and fragilities, who during most of his wonderfully turbulent life put his word where his mouth was.

One Sherwood Forest is the place the 12. - 31. October. We celebrate (even more than ever) rebellion, freedom, nature and the cycle of the beast. We celebrate life. You might want to join us. Thatís quite okay. Youíre welcome. We welcome everybody who doesnít show up with poisonous words in their mouth, burning crosses in their hands.

There will be served bread and wine the night of Samhain, October 31./November 1. On All Soulís Night, the culmination of the festival, but you should bring your own anyway. There will almost certainly be some shortage. At least if the night stretches into days.

Thatís all really. Come to One Sherwood Forest and Search. Ancient moods, ancient nights, what might well be your own ancient self. If you take one or two steps towards it, weíll help you if you so desire, take one or two more. The festival will be both a celebration and a discovery.

Many things will happen...

The bus will leave the bus station somewhen prior to the All Souls Night. Walk off the bus north on the island and follow from there all the strands of night and darkness you can see and feel, feel, feel. Seven standard units of modern, meaningless measure of distance, a far land not far.

The Season of The Witch is not ending this night. Itís barely begun!

A party for the ages. (The beginning of) The End of History. The written history, that is, full of lies and deceit. We all know or should now that history belongs to the victor. There are many masks during The Season of The Witch, but on the last day, the last night...

They all fall.

Then weíll know much of everything weíve ever forgotten. And nothing is right, nothing is wrong...


Vladimir Svareff
Ceremonial cloak and dagger

Fly to Midnight Fire ARENA