Find Your Inner Hag

If you want to be a bad ass sexually empowered woman, embrace your inner hag.
Thats right.
The crone. The ancient old woman. The witch. The hag.
The crone archetype is an aspect of the feminine not exactly associated with sexuality.
Women groom themselves to be girls. The younger the better.
Paint those lips red and blush those cheeks like you are wet and ripe for impregnation.
Make them believe you are in perpetual ovulation.
Make them hard. Make them desire you
Get that face lift. Suck in that belly. Bat those lashes.
Guess what.
The crone doesn’t give a fuck.
And that is her power.
She embraces her spider lines and swinging, sagginesss.
After all, this is what life does to the body of a woman…eventually!
Does that make you uncomfortable? Would you rather not see?
Her secret threatens to corrupt you.
She can make you wild.
She can reveal to you your power.
Your volcanic senseless holy
Once she opens her mouth, the jig is up.
They tell you she is crazy.
Dangerous because she has broken out of that jail cell you call restrictions.
How would you have sex if you didn’t give a fuck about how pretty you look?
Or how flat your stomach is?
The crone is not an object of desire.
She is free to claim her own desire.
In a world that praises women for being objects of desire.
Where the more lust you can seduce the more value you possess, the crone is laughing with that cackle that only women of power have.
She does not possess the enchanting beauty of the maiden or the fertile reproductive juices of the mother.
She no longer bleeds. She no longer bares children.
Her sex no longer waxes and wanes with the moon, gaining and draining energy with each passing tide.
She is full.
The portal to her blood has been sealed.
She is drinking in the nectar. She is bathing in its luminous darkness.
Her sex is a diamond pressed and polished by years of experience and wisdom.
She has passed through all the phases of initiation as a woman.
That heavy web of social conditions all feminine creatures are baptized into.
She is unraveling herself from these webs.
She has liberated her sex from all their stories.
She is making it to the other side.
Freeing herself.
Without the ability to be a mother or a sex object, what is left of a woman and her sex?
I’ll tell you what.
Pure power that doesn’t give a fuck.
Crazy wisdom that knows how to make love to the moment.
Sex that ripples through every authentic cell of your body.
Sex that pulses with every tiny whisper of life knowing life.
If you want to find the seat of your sexual power.
Your real deep sovereign sexual nature.
Find the crone that lives in you.
Wild. Ugly. Innocent. Real.
The real initiation begins here.

Author: Maya Luna

Photo Art: Sarah Peirse

Shine Brightly

“She walks the earth freely, yet her feet never touch the ground. Many hands will reach for her, but she cannot be anchored. She belongs to no one, to nothing, to nowhere. When you meet her, you will recognize her for what she is–a free spirit, a wandering star. She will fit in your arms like she was made to be there. And she will show you what it means to hold something you can never hold on to.”

  • Lang Leav

A term I have loved since I first read those wonderful words of Yeats, of the “white breast of the dim sea, and of its disheveled, wandering stars”. While astrologically used to describe the motion of the planets, “wandering stars” arrived within me as something deeper, a metaphor for my own being. Just as the planets themselves are in motion encircling the sun; so are we, bright children of the stars, endlessly dancing yet fixed in our own celestial journeying.

Because no matter the darkness, we are wild light. It can be hard to remember that, sometimes we dim, or spend so much time looking around at the darkness that we forget our own light.

I want you to stop for this moment, and remember that light. If you need some reconnection. Close your eyes and focus on the great light of G-d just above your head. Envision that light pouring down through your crown chakra, infusing your body with its heavenly radiance. Let it flow through you filling every space, down through your feet and into the earth. Breathe into it, and with every inhale, allow your glow to become ever brighter.


We are all the children of stars, infused with celestial and spiritual light, abiding in a magic that has no textual equivalent. This is why I art. To describe the souls progression, longing and intent as it exists beyond my ability to articulate it. To remind me of who and what I really am.

(And hopefully to remind you too.)

And so with this work, I will not attempt to overdefine it. It is a story of sisters intertwined, of ancient longing, of cosmic purpose that exists though few may understand it. Just as one woman carries a veil of stars, and the other the moon, their intent is only revealed to the careful study of the viewer’s eye. It longs to tell it’s story to those who have the eyes to hear it

To those that know, here on this earth, that they too are forever the wandering stars, dancing not despite the darkness, but because of it.

It is how we shine the brightest.


(Now available as a premium poster, 11X17 for just $15. Click thru to Etsy to purchase: )