PantheaCon 2015

Mossy Dryad Girl by Plastik Stars

The Witches Have Arrived

Cars bearing bumper stickers proclaiming "My other car is a broom!" and other pagan sayings fill every available space in the parking lot at the Doubletree. Notices in employee areas warn workers to park elsewhere for the duration of PantheaCon. And the big crowds won't arrive until tomorrow.

Random observations

Electric pink may not be the best hair color choice for beards.

Spelling your name in runes on your badge is slightly annoying.

The witches from the Mystic Dreams in Walnut Creek always think big and create visually interesting rituals.

PantheaCon Begins

Weapons at PantheaCon must be “peace-bonded,” meaning a spell must be cast on them so they can only be used for nonviolent purposes. I suppose this makes sense since wands and athames (double-edged ceremonial daggers) are magical tools that, in the wrong hands, could become magical weapons. Remember the Deathly Hallows café wand fight? No, it didn’t appear in Rowlings’ book (that I can remember). But didn’t you love it?

Rite of the Grand Convergence

Did you know that during World War II witches cast a spell over England to protect it from invading forces? Tonight 13 covens from all over the United States joined together at PantheaCon to cast one of the largest protection spells in modern history. To speak of magic dilutes it power, so I won’t say what they were protecting.  But I hope the spell worked!

Handing out loads of Teen Wytche Saga badge ribbons!

PantheaCon 2015 So It Begins...

Reporting from PantheaCon 2015

The Doubletree by Hilton is eerily deserted the morning before the official start of PantheaCon, a gathering of 2000 pagans. Up since 5AM and operating on 4 hours sleep, I am grateful the only witnesses to my inglorious trip over the front curb are four uniformed bellboys and the distressed Super Shuttle driver.

Bruised and knee skinned, I stagger to the reception area where a petite (shorter than me!) young woman hands me a fresh from the oven chocolate chip cookie. My mood improves exponentially. I jokingly warn her of the onslaught to come. Her tattooed eyebrows arch in alarm and her gaze darts to the nearest exit. This will be her first PantheaCon. Perhaps her last.

Still shaky after an hour nap, I take the hamburger cure at Spencers' - totally worth the $19.97 (with tip). Two businesswomen at the next table stress through their power lunch. One keeps saying, “I hear you.” It takes me a while to figure out she is not the one in the power seat.

By 3PM the ground floor begins to fill with doublewide women, earring bedecked men, and toddlers in cowgirl boots and tutus. By tomorrow’s opening ritual, neo-Vikings swishing animal tails, Goth teens, silver-haired witches of both sexes, mambos, Merlins, and druids will cram the ballrooms, elevators, and Sprigs restaurant.

The tribes and covens are gathering.

My Teen Wytche Saga badge ribbons await.

Copyright 2015 by Ariella Moon