I wasn’t raised in a world that made space for magic.

I grew up inside Catholic quiet — incense, ritual, repetition — a structure that taught me how to sit still, how to behave, how to swallow the parts of myself that didn’t fit. I learned early how to be good, how to be small, how to keep my questions tucked behind my teeth.

But even then, something in me refused to stay silent.

It started as a hum — low, ancient, insistent. A knowing that the world was wider and wilder than the one I’d been handed. I didn’t have language for it yet, but I felt it in my bones. Something in me was watching, listening, waiting.

As a GenX kid, I did what we all did: I figured things out alone. I carried the hum with me into adulthood, into every room where I pretended to be softer than I was. But the hum grew louder. It followed me through every version of myself until it finally became impossible to ignore.

And then one day, it wasn’t a hum anymore.
It was a call.

Not gentle.
Not polite.
Feral.

The kind of call that grabs you by the jaw and says, “Wake up. You know who you are.”

I didn’t go looking for conjure.
Conjure came looking for me.

It arrived through intuition, through dreams, through the unmistakable pull toward ritual, roots, and the unseen. It arrived through the part of me that had been waiting decades to breathe. And when I stepped toward it, everything in my body said one word:

Home.

Not the home I was raised in — the home I was made for.

I stopped asking for permission.
I stopped translating my magic into something palatable.
I stopped shrinking to fit the expectations of people who were never meant to understand my path.

I claimed my name — Shaw — the name of my power, not my past.

I stepped fully into conjure, ritual craft, and the creation of talismans and bundles as living allies. My work is not performance. It is lineage. It is instinct. It is the craft that rose up to meet me the moment I stopped pretending I wasn’t built for it.

Today, I serve those who are ready to reclaim themselves — the ones shedding old skins, breaking old contracts, and stepping into their own sovereignty. I create ritual tools for people who are done with “almost” and ready to walk their path with clarity and intention.

I didn’t abandon who I was raised to be.
I simply outgrew her.

This is my path now — feral, sovereign, powerful.
This is the story of how I came home to myself.
This is the fire I walk with.

I am Shaw.
I am a conjurer.
And I no longer hide.