Jude Bradley - Magics in the Bag: Creating Spellbinding Gris Gris Bags & Sachets

About the Authors

Jude Bradley is a writer, editor, and designer. Originally from Boston and now living in Southern California, she has worked as a journalist, TV and theater critic, and creative writing teacher. Having experienced various paranormal phenomena since the age of four, Jude now works as a spiritual consultant, using card readings, mediumship, and general energy guidance to help clients.

www.kazphoto.com

Cher Dastugue Coen is an award-winning journalist, instructor of writing, playwright, novelist, and cookbook author. A native of New Orleans, Cher now makes her home in Lafayette, Louisiana, with her husband, two sons, a dog and three cats. Visit her website at www.LouisianaBookNews.com.

Josh Coen

Llewellyn Publications

Woodbury, Minnesota

Magics in the Bag: Creating Spellbinding Gris Gris Bags & Sachets 2010 by Jude Bradley & Cher Dastugue Coen.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Llewellyn Publications, except in the form of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

As the purchaser of this e-book, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. The text may not be otherwise reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, or recorded on any other storage device in any form or by any means.

Any unauthorized usage of the text without express written permission of the publisher is a violation of the authors copyright and is illegal and punishable by law.

First e-book edition 2010

E-book ISBN: 9780738730318

Book design by Steffani Sawyer

Cover design by Kevin R. Brown

Cover images: Black Bag iStockphoto.com/Kirn

Coin iStockphoto.com/iva Duncan Walker

Figure and Star Image Club

Rabbits foot, Leaf, Cinnamon sticks and Rock PhotoDisc

Interior photos Cher Dastugue Coen

Llewellyn Publications is an imprint of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

Llewellyn Publications does not participate in, endorse, or have any authority or responsibility concerning private business arrangements between our authors and the public.

Note: The authors and publisher of this book are not responsible in any manner whatsoever for any injury that may occur through following the instructions or advice contained herein. The recipes and remedies in this book are not meant to diagnose, treat, prescribe, or substitute for consultation with a licensed health-care professional. New herbal substances should always be used in small amounts to allow the body to adjust and to test for possible allergic reactions.

Any Internet references contained in this work are current at publication time, but the publisher cannot guarantee that a specific reference will continue or be maintained. Please refer to the publishers website for links to current author websites.

Llewellyn Publications

Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

2143 Wooddale Drive

Woodbury, MN 55125

www.llewellyn.com

Manufactured in the United States of America

To Bruce, Josh, and the two Taylors

They that light our livesand keep us sane while driving us crazy.

Contents

By Jude Bradley

By Cher Dastugue Coen

PART I: Overview

PART II: Ingredients

PART III: Spells

Appendix: Growing a Gris Gris Garden

Author Introductions

By Jude Bradley

When my grandfather died in 1962, my mothers unmarried sister moved in with us. Alyce, a striking woman with large eyes and a pure heart, was my mothers oldest sister. Private by nature, she was thrifty, but also unceasingly generous and indefinably wise. She took charge of the grounds of our house almost immediately. We had a large yard, with rich black soil that could grow a Buick from a spare tire. Alyce loved to work the soil, feel it between her fingers and roll it around in her hands. When she worked in the yard, her face would take on an indescribable serenity.

Alyce planted dozens of marigolds around the perimeter of our house and lilac bushes here and there. Rambling roses, bright pink and pungent, climbed along the fences and a healthy grapevine wound through a thick white trellis beside the driveway. Crocuses sprouted like clockwork every spring, their emerging faces symbols of punctuality and renewal. And a tiny pine tree guarded the end of the dirt driveway. I was small, but could touch the top with my finger when she lifted me up.

When we traveled, Alyce collected pinecones and kept them in her apartment at the back of our house. She saved dried flowers, filling bowl after bowl with their purples, pinks, and reds, and she gathered the peeling white bark of birch trees to place in small dishes near candles.

Shells were also a big part of her life. Twice every summer, we would venture to the beaches of Cape Cod and Alyce would gather shells with ritualistic passion. She chose carefully, filling buckets with shell pieces and occasionally whole shells. Once in a while, a dried horseshoe crab would become part of the dcor. At home, she had bottles and jars filled with the ocean memories. (When I shake the bottles now, the rattle of the shells reminds me of the sounds of the waves tumbling toward the shoreline.)

Stones adorned both my mothers part of the house and Alyces. There were bits of white quartz on windowsills and end tables, set high in corners, and displayed on bookshelves. Each had been carefully selected for its color, but usually the stones energy was what would attract both Mom and Alyce. When Id ask either of them what the stones meant, the answer was always the same: luck.

Whether or not the stones provided them with luck remains a question. At times, things were definitely tough, but we never wanted for anything, we were all healthy, and my father always had a job. Although we never fell into big money, my mother had a special talent for regularly winning the smaller jackpots in the state lottery. It occurred to me over time that my mother and aunts wishes were simple, founded in a Depression mentalitysustenance was paramount, and an unfettered sense of security was nearly all one could ask from the universe.

Alyce was the first to go of the old group. My mothers other sister, Lily, followed next, and my mother was the last. Lily, who lived in the neighboring town with her family, was much like her sisters, a great lover of nature. Her perfect house was set far from the street and surrounded by enormous maple and ash trees. She was adept in canning and, like my mother and Alyce, saved bits of the Earth for her own personal reasons.

Upon Alyces passing, I was left with many questions as I realized that there was more to her collecting and gardening habits than Id originally thought. I slowly realized how steeped in superstition her habits had been. She believed in bits of magic, and surrounded herself throughout her life with tiny assurances and reminders that she would always be connected to nature. I learned much from her over the years, but even more after shed left this plane.