Scottish by blood.
Seeker by nature.
Teacher by calling.

Rooted in the mystery traditions of the West, my work weaves together Hermeticism, astrology, tarot, Qabalah, witchcraft and animism. I honour the old ways while walking a very modern path.

In the house I grew up in, an dà shealladh, the two sights, was mentioned the way you might mention that someone had a good ear or a bad back. It was not romantic. Nobody performed it. It came with rules about what you did and did not say aloud, and with a quiet expectation that you would be useful with it rather than impressive.

That upbringing gave me two things I still work from. The first is a high tolerance for the ambiguity of spiritual experience: a thing can be real to you and still be difficult to prove, and both halves of that sentence matter. The second is a dislike of spectacle. The people I trusted most were the least theatrical.

When I began reading seriously I found the same material I had grown up with running through written sources I had never been told about. Charms recorded in the Highlands sat beside medieval planetary magic. The plant lore in my family's kitchen turned out to be the tail end of a herbal tradition with a paper trail centuries deep. Hermetic philosophy answered questions my folk practice had only gestured at. I have been following that seam ever since.