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The twle of witchcraft is a subject that has captivated the imagination of people for centuries. Witchcraft, also known as sorcery or spellcraft, is the practice of using supernatural or magical abilities to manipulate and control events or individuals. Throughout history, witchcraft has been associated with a variety of beliefs, traditions, and rituals. In some cultures, witches are revered as healers, wise women, or spiritual leaders. They are believed to possess special knowledge and powers that enable them to communicate with spirits, manipulate energies, and cast spells for various purposes. However, witchcraft has also been demonized and feared in many societies.

What’s more jaw-dropping is that Irwin, during the last 30 years, has sculpted it all in delirious detail with discards ranging from used latex gloves to broken guitars to a crashed paraglider. Imposing hot-pink Robo Clydesdale has hooves of computer monitors and a fax machine face.

is walking us through his home s bizarro backyard, a 2-acre candy-colored surreal-land that is both whimsical and creepily post-apocalyptic, and overtaken by more than 300 gigantic robots, twirling carousels, a Christmas village with mutant mannequin army and creatures such as Mongolian Easter Bunny driving a team of antlered rabbits. The translator I d hired told me that witches, as well as demons, cherels, bhuts, djinns, and other supernatural beings, were believed to be the souls of people who had been murdered or who had died in some other violent or unnatural way, such as falling down a well.

However, witchcraft has also been demonized and feared in many societies. During the Middle Ages, the Christian church led a campaign against witchcraft, labeling it as heresy and associating it with devil worship. This led to the persecution and execution of thousands of individuals, mostly women, who were accused of witchcraft.

Sun-baked bizarro worlds on Mojave Desert road trip

Buffeted by screeching winds, we’re in the moonscape Mojave Desert and about to sleep in an old Airstream trailer that was bought from a coven of transgendered witches, is now owned by eccentric B-52’s singer Kate Pierson and inside is peculiarly painted to make occupants feel like they’re genies in an oozy red lava lamp.

Let’s hope for good vortex vibes. Because, with (“we’re doing what?”) husband in tow, I’m on a zany can’t-dream-this-up desert road trip. We’ll orbit out-of-body in a dome designed by extraterrestrials from Venus, meet a “hairstorian,” get our chakras balanced by a crochet alligator and ogle a lauded tower of teetering toilets.

It’s a parallel universe, but less than three hours by car from San Diego. Buckle up for this off-the-grid spin that begins in Palm Springs with nuked elves.

Artist Kenny Irwin Jr. is walking us through his home’s bizarro backyard, a 2-acre candy-colored surreal-land that is both whimsical and creepily post-apocalyptic, and overtaken by more than 300 gigantic robots, twirling carousels, a Christmas village with mutant mannequin army and creatures such as Mongolian Easter Bunny driving a team of antlered rabbits.

What’s more jaw-dropping is that Irwin, during the last 30 years, has sculpted it all in delirious detail with discards ranging from used latex gloves to broken guitars to a crashed paraglider. Imposing hot-pink Robo Clydesdale has hooves of computer monitors and a fax machine face.

Irwin, 42, is gracious, laughs often and clearly enjoys having strangers regularly traipse through his found-object otherworld just a block from Frank Sinatra’s former pad.

“I make art to share with people. That’s the greatest pleasure, to see how happy people are to experience it.”

He’s an unusual sight, this grandson of the late L.A. Rams owner Carroll Rosenbloom, now a converted Muslim wearing a traditional Islamic tunic, skullcap and long beard and excitedly pointing out Santa’s Barbecue Dragon Sleigh. Around Christmas, Robolights glows with 9 million bulbs, the largest residential light display in the country.

“Basically the main premise of what I do is a ‘why not world’ in a ‘why world.’ I’m always thinking, ‘Why not?’”

Beauty Bubble Salon and Museum

This temple to tresses is head-spinning. Roadside on Joshua Tree’s highway, the retro-rad pink-walled Beauty Bubble bursts with 3,000 cosmetology artifacts, including an 1883 kerosene-heated curling iron, vintage helmet dryer chairs and Elvis Presley “Love Me Tender” shampoo.

“I’m America’s hairstorian,” says bubbly Jeff Hafler, as he snips a client’s locks for a “flippy do.”

His hair-raising collection started 25 years ago when Hafler was given a blue antique hairdryer. “I thought this is fascinating history and it didn’t seem anyone was preserving it. You’d get a new hairdryer and throw the old one out.”

So now his working salon doubles as a Smithsonian for scalps. Among the beauty booty: a 1940s Pin-Whiz “pin curl pinner,” a Growing Hair Cher doll, Hollywood starlet Lustre-Creme ads and 1960s mirrored C Bak glasses that enabled women to shape their beehives with both hands. A torturous octopus-tentacle perm machine was donated by screen legend Veronica Lake’s hairdresser, who truly had a brush with fame.

World Famous Crochet Museum

Wow, “world famous!” Behind the Beauty Bubble, a neon-green former Fotomat booth is stuffed with hundreds of cuddly crochet critters — Big Bird, poodles, bears, mice, chickens — handmade by “mostly old ladies.” The museum’s owner, artist Shari Elf (seriously, her name) isn’t here this day, but the door is always open. On her website, Elf urges, “Let the crochet goodness surround you, soothe you, make you feel whole again.”

Yarn mushrooms, I discover, are very calming. I also find inner peace with Bunny, the frock-clad crochet alligator who is “curator” of this cozy knitter nirvana. He’s smirking but mum. On one of his YouTube talk shows, though, he told Buddy the crochet dog that he’s a healer and licensed Watsu massage therapist.

Noah Purifoy’s Outdoor Desert Art Museum

And now for a desert dystopia. Bowling balls dangle from a rickety rod, metal fold-out chairs sit atop a battered cart with flat tires, a roller coaster-like structure is made of 65 aluminum lunch trays, and 1960s TV sets and rusty kitchen appliances are strewn in a heap. Think of sci-fi meets hoarders meets Western ghost town. It’s actually an acclaimed art installation of 50-plus “assemblage sculptures” sprawling over 10 desolate acres in Joshua Tree.

The creator was Noah Purifoy, a renowned African-American “junk artist” who co-founded the Watts Towers Art Center in Los Angeles in 1964 and later spent 15 years here recycling rubbish into this open-air oddity. Purifoy was also a social activist — in one crumbling art piece, a regular drinking fountain stands underneath a “White” sign; next to it, a stained toilet bowl outfitted with a drinking faucet is below the sign “Colored.”

Kate’s Lazy Desert

A half-hour from Joshua Tree National Park, up a sandy, tire-sinking backroad, bouffant-fond B-52’s rocker Kate Pierson has plopped six dated, funkily decorated Airstreams in barren middle-of-nowhere Landers. We booked “Hot Lava.” Pierson writes online that she bought the silver bullet “from a coven of beautiful transgendered witches.”

I peek into the groovy “Hairstream” trailer (“Kate’s fantasy dressing room”) plastered with B-52’s posters, the “Tiki” trailer painted with masks and “Planet Air” wallpapered with aluminum foil.

We’ve always wanted to stay in an Airstream. And with no other campers, we’re strangely alone (the off-site caretaker is reachable by phone). The closest trace of civilization, about 100 yards away, is a neighbor’s charred, boarded-up house and exploded trailer. As the sun dips, the sky blazes orange over the supernatural vista of gnarled Joshua trees and spiky cholla cactuses.

Turns out blob-motif “Hot Lava” is still bewitched — there’s a water leak — so we’re switched to the “North to Alaska” trailer. (It needs some TLC — a barbecue fork points to a sad-face “caution” note on a broken sitting bench, the bathroom door won’t shut and the shower curtain is frayed.) From here everything dissolves into a Lucy and Desi comedy.

All night, fierce winds screamingly howl and shake the trailer so violently we can’t sleep. When my husband gets up to go to the bathroom in the dark, he lets out a shout as he impales bare feet on pin-sharp cactus needles that have unknowingly blown in through openings and cover the floor. In the morning, he sits down and yelps again — piercing cactus needles are stuck in his underwear. Chill, dear. It’s time for your “sound bath” in that gleaming white UFO dome hovering in the distance.

Integratron

With 23 other earthlings, we lie face up, eyes closed, and shoeless in a semicircle atop floor mats, serape blankets covering us.

Weirder yet, we’re in the all-wood rotunda of the Integratron, the brainchild of engineer George Van Tassel, who in 1953 supposedly boarded a flying saucer, where aliens gave him instructions to build this time-travel, cell-rejuvenating machine. Located over a geomagnetic spike (natch), it has such mind-blowing acoustics that someone can whisper 55 feet across the room and you hear them loudly in your ear.

We’re having the high-frequency group “sound bath” to “sonically heal” and recharge us. For 25 minutes of the one-hour session, our cosmic leader, a cardiac nurse, plays quartz-crystal singing bowls whose eerie resonating tones inhabit our horizontal bodies. Some notes are so jarring, my human DNA vibrates. Finally, a bright lavender-purple haze bolts through my shut eyes. Have I been beamed up? Nah, I can hear my zonked-out husband snoring.

Meyer is a freelance travel writer.

Yes, good … but how did the Indian pilgrims in the witch temple like having me in their midst? So far, they hadn’t taken much notice of me. They had a lot more pressing concerns.

The twle of witchcraft is often passed down through oral traditions, with knowledge and techniques being shared within covens or communities of witches. These groups provide support, guidance, and a sense of belonging for practitioners of witchcraft. Additionally, many modern witches also draw inspiration and knowledge from ancient texts, grimoires, and other magical literature. Witchcraft encompasses a wide range of practices and beliefs, which can vary from region to region and from individual to individual. Some witches practice witchcraft as a religion, known as Wicca, while others approach it as a personal spiritual path or as a way to connect with nature and the divine. Witchcraft rituals often involve the use of magical tools, such as wands, cauldrons, candles, herbs, crystals, and symbols. These tools are believed to have specific properties and energies that can aid in spellcasting and ritual work. In conclusion, the twle of witchcraft is a complex and multifaceted topic that has intrigued and fascinated people throughout history. Whether viewed as a spiritual practice, a form of empowerment, or something more sinister, witchcraft continues to be a subject of interest and exploration in contemporary society..

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what are pegan holidays