Thursday, November 6, 2008
Misadventures at the White House
Seriously photoshopped. I had to because the light was far from perfect yesterday.
A few years ago, along with some of my Powerful Wiccan Practitioner Friends, I launched into a bout of magic with the White House. Why? Can't speak for the motivations of my friends, but for me at least it was because the White House really bugged me.
There was a long period of time when I avoided that area of town like the plague, even though the Corcoran and the Renfrew - great art museums - are right around the corner. During that time, finding myself anywhere near the WH always put me in a foul mood. If I was driving, every street seemed to lead away from where I wanted to go. Of course there was never a place to park. On foot, it was hardly better because the WH was (and is) so barricaded, so blocked off from the public, so tucked away, it makes all navigation around it overly complicated. Trying to get from point A to point B in that neighborhood always meant a lengthy detour that involved plowing through mobs of tourists. Oh. I hated that place.
So, the same blind hubris that convinced me to take on Civil War battlefields lead me to believe the White House "needed" me to interfere with my magic. For heaven's sake, what was I thinking?
I remember the day when my great teacher, colleague and friend Kila held her cell phone up to the fence in front of the WH while her husband (who was at the FDR memorial) read aloud some of the powerful quotes engraved in the pink granite of the FDR. Broadcasting FDR's words at the White House was a wonderful ritual.
Not as pleasant is the memory of walking all the way around the periphery in a serious downpour, counting the steps as I went. Now I can't even remember the point of that exercise. Oh well. At the time it seemed Very Important.
During that era, I was coincidentally invited to take a small, private evening tour of the WH. All I could think, after that experience, was that I've never set foot in an uglier or more haunted place. I was struck by how small it is - seems like it should be gigantic, but it's not. The other interesting thing about that tour was that, afterwards, my loathing for the place dissolved completely. In fact, I subsequently developed an affection for the house that remains to this day. Go figure.
The pic above is the view of the front of our first national residence, which is obviously a southern plantation house. Unfortunate design idea, wasn't it? I think so. The north side used to be the back door until FDR was president. They switched it around to accommodate his disability, a good idea, though it really messed with the feng shui of the place. Now the front door faces Lafayette Park, once the largest slave market in the city.
I wonder how the energy of this strange place will change when the Obamas move in? A black family in the White House? Wow. I can't wait!