My love for dark goddesses started with Morning Glory Zell-Ravenheart, who, along with her husband Oberon, taught me through my twenties — I was even May Queen at Annwfn in 2006. Morning Glory loved dark goddesses from every tradition, every continent, and after she passed, I got obsessed with making art of them: goddesses of war, death, transmutation, sexuality, all the fierce ones.
I wanted to create at least one from every continent, every tradition. I started with Fortuna, since my mom’s from Italy and I’d spent time there. Then I moved on to Santa Muerte. Santa Muerte grabbed me hard, almost violently, and said, “You will make images of me and only me.”
I knew better than to say no to a dark goddess. I thought I’d make one portrait and she’d let me go, but she didn’t. This one I made with small beads. I started using them after my son was born since cutting glass wasn’t safe. I come from a line of Italian tile workers, and I used Italian smalti for the background, styled in a Mexican way for her.
I put her hand in the sign of benediction, as most saints are painted. The Vatican still hasn’t canonised her and while her sacred heart and guesture are sacred, it is also a slight rebellion to the Vatican. I sealed the whole thing in Art Resin so people could touch it — I’ve been part of Burning Man for years and I like art people can interact with.
I ended up making multiple pieces of her, each in a different colored robe. I had so many that I ran out of room in my house. I hung this one in my bedroom. My first mistake. She was like an uncomfortable roommate. She’d comment on everything: the lovers I brought home, the clothes I wore, the things I did, like a big sister.
She was patient at first, but then one day she’d had enough. She grabbed me again and said, “I did not ask you to make this art so I could sit in your bedroom!” She wanted to be seen by people, to be honored.
I heard my friend Carrie on the Glitch Bottle podcast, hosted by Alexander Eth. Carrie was talking about how she and her husband Aaron bought a sacred space called Solomon Springs Ranch, and how she works with Santisma Muerte. She said for three days she’d had a dream, so real, where Santisima was knocking at the fence of their property, louder and louder, wanting to get in. Aaron and Carrie have strong wards up — Aaron works with angels and Solomonic magic — and they already have a lot of altars to tend to, so Carrie wasn’t sure about letting her in.
When I heard that, I knew that’s where the Santisima Roja needed to be. Before I sent it, Santisma showed me a vision: an old oak tree, a sculpture behind glass, candles leading up to it, and Solomon Springs hosting festivals where magical folks could come pray.
I mailed the piece to Carrie, thinking to myself, “Guess what? Santisma’s not just at your door — she’s coming in!” 😉 When Carrie opened the package, she put her in an old thrifted hutch, behind glass, nailed to a big oak tree, with candles leading up to it and a prayer request box nearby. It was exactly what Santisma showed me. Now she’s in a sacred space, being seen and honored, fulfilling prayer requests.
By guest contributor, Tracy Dixon who is a full-time artist, mom, and magician with 30 years of tarot mastery since age 10. Initiated into the OTO in 2008, she’s a Thelemic and Solomonic magician, trained in witchcraft by Oberon and Morning Glory Zell-Ravenheart, and crowned May Queen at Annwfn in 2006. Tracy teaches Kabbalah and tarot, blending deep wisdom with intuition. Her self-published Thelemic Wisdom tarot deck fuses Thoth and Rider-Waite with Thelemic Easter eggs and my original art. She’s worked with Santa Muerte for 8 years, creating devotional art sold alongside her deck and guides on Copper Phoenix Studios.
Most Holy Death 