The Painted Dress

It felt good, smearing terrible words in primary colors on the sacred garment,

no longer pure and hanging in my closet.

The solstice was the first night without it, after I put it in the fire of cedar, sage, palo santo, ash, willow, frankincense, myrrh, and sandalwood. My fire so fragrant the gods came down from heaven to make shadows with it.

I placed my rocks around the lips of the firepit, let them stand sentinel while we burn away the worst of us—the lies, the jealousy, guilt, shame, rage, grief, abandonment, resentment, vindication, betrayal, hurt, fear, doubt, and pain.

Up in smoke on this longest night, all the rumors and lies, transforming to ash that I control, feed to my flowers, take all of the ugliness, all of the hate, and create my own beauty.

After laying the wood and incense and placing my rocks, I kindled the fire, so divinely perfumed, so wonderfully fragrant.

You should have seen how high the flames climbed the sky while the dress burned, probably singed the hem of Hestia’s gown. It was truly an amazing fire.

I wore the dress out to the fire pit, then stripped out of it and placed it atop the burning cedar and sage.

We kept the fire burning through the night, and there were some amazing moments, like this one of an ascending figure in the flames:

And the one log that was so cured it was essentially fatlighter.

This was my first unburning, and it will probably be my most dramatic one, but I will definitely have one every year going forward. I cannot describe how liberating it was.

Thank you for reading. This entire process was amazing.