The Moon Group
what even is a "moon group" anyway?
I don’t know exactly how or why the name moon group became what we call ourselves. I tried several times to call it a coven, but the word never quite fit. It wouldn’t stick. Eventually, almost organically, we became “the moon group”—a name that felt softer, more spacious, and more inclusive of what we were actually doing.
Our group is made up of women from many different backgrounds, many of us artists and creatives, though not exclusively. Looking back, it’s difficult to pinpoint where this whole endeavor truly began, largely because I never set out to start a ceremonial community, a coven, or a moon group at all.
For many years, I studied a wide range of esoteric traditions and practices: magic, witchcraft, divination, mediumship, meditation, Buddhism, yoga, and energy work, among others. I have always been fascinated by the occult and the unseen world. From 1994 to 2001, in my late teens and early twenties, I lived in New Orleans—one of the most magical cities I’ve ever known. During that time, I was part of several magical study groups and covens. We studied tarot, mythology, and mystical systems; practiced invocations and astral travel; and learned how to cast a circle, hold ritual space, and perform clearings, cleansings, and exorcisms.
When I eventually left New Orleans, I carried these practices with me. For many years, they became something private—quiet, even secretive. I practiced alone during the moon phases, often in the dark hours before sunrise while everyone else slept. It was a nerdy, ritual-based life that lived just beneath the surface of my everyday world.
In 2022, a couple of close friends casually suggested that we host a witchy spell-casting night. It may have been meant playfully, but I took it very seriously (after all, I am a Capricorn). After that first gathering, the women were surprised by the depth of my knowledge and how instinctively the ceremony unfolded. We held a few more rituals and invited other friends to join us, but the momentum faded after several months—mostly because I had a young child at home and lived some distance away.
Later, the idea resurfaced in conversation with another friend—an artist and a mother who lived nearby. Together, we decided to try creating something more sustainable in our local community. We invited a small group of close friends, and almost immediately it became clear that something meaningful was happening. The rituals resonated deeply, even though most of the women had no prior experience with magic or ceremonial practice. What emerged was a shared recognition: this was something we had been craving without fully realizing it—a meaningful way to gather regularly, to mark time through the lunar cycles, and to weave bonds of friendship and sisterhood over months and years.
Today, the moon group is thriving as it enters its fourth year and continues to grow. We remain open to anyone who expresses genuine interest. Inclusivity is central to the spirit of the group. The moon group exists as a way to foster meaningful relationships among women of diverse backgrounds through shared ritual and intentional gathering.
Our meetings begin simply, around a table with food and drinks. And while I love a good dinner party, this is something different. After we eat and talk, we move outside, drink tea around the bonfire, cast the circle, and begin the ritual. The shift is subtle but unmistakable. Something changes in the unspoken knowing that we have crossed into sacred space together.
While the structure and lineage of our ceremonies are rooted in my background in European and New Orleanian magical traditions, much of what we practice has been shaped collaboratively by the group itself. I believe deeply that the mystery traditions practiced thousands of years ago are still alive—held in our bones, in our DNA, in the soil beneath our feet, and in the air we breathe. The moon group, to me, is an act of remembering these traditions back into our lives through community. This belief—that ceremony is not invented but remembered—sits at the heart of a book I am now beginning to write.
I’m writing in this space as an exercise in processing and integrating my artistic practice with my work as a priestess. Over the past few years, it has become increasingly difficult—and increasingly unnecessary—to keep them separate. Many of the artists I admire most have woven their lives, their art, and their spiritual practices into a single, coherent whole. This project is part of my own attempt to do the same.
Here, I’m exploring the ingredients of ceremony and ritual-making as one might approach a recipe—gathering elements, listening closely, and allowing intuition to guide the process. It is both a reflection and a practical guide, an invitation to remember what many of us already carry within us: the knowledge of how to gather, how to mark time, and how to create sacred space together.
Darling. I just stumbled across this. I'm so excited for this project! And I can't wait to be in ritual with you in August. Mil magical besos.