KILN Spring 2026: Repair

KILN is a seasonal web journal created by the Weavers Members of the Missing Witches Coven.

Jun 30, 2026

9 min read

Zine

From the Editor,

In the Springtime we dedicate ourselves to Reparations, and so for our Spring KILN collaboration, we took as our theme the many ways and magics of Repair.

In the Winter KILN we were Cailleach, snow queens, witches of the screaming wind.

Now, I like to imagine turning my ice-teeth and bloody nails to grip the cliff sides of hope.

My winged wise friends and I, weavers of old ways and new, we're shrieking and flapping our wings and insisting upon the possibility of repair... even though, even after, even here in the polycrisis, and in the midst of heartache and genocide, even NOW we insist that you count us amongst all those who refuse to concede defeat to the rent and the tear.

We bring all our craft to the minutia and enormity of repair.

So be it, see to it.

BFB.

Welcome to the Spring edition of KILN, a multimedia online journal created by the Weavers members of the Missing Witches Coven.

Sydnee W. Repair, 2026

b. 1994, USA

Multimedia: photographs, images and film of ink stamped paper

Repair uses readings of direct quotes from reporting on the Diamond Shamrock superfund site, documented by Peter Almond in The Cleveland Press in 1979, and Marvin Gaye’s Mercy, Mercy Me to accompany a visualization of repair of the site itself. It asks the viewer to imagine an Earth recovered from intentional poisoning and invites them to participate in the repair themselves.

Observing the process of creating the tools needed for repair demonstrates the work required by each of us to manifest a cure, even if we weren’t the perpetrator of the harm. The unskilled nature of the stamps encourages the viewer to pick up the slack in the work that must be done, though it may be their first time. There’s no time to wait for someone else with more expertise or better supplies.

By including both flora and fauna in the repair work, Repair reminds us that humans share Earth with creatures that were here long before them and that all flourishing is mutual. Echinacea, a medicinal plant seen prominently in the foreground, calls for healing and warns that we must become immune to tolerating the poisoning of the land. The willow tree in the right foreground is also a medicinal plant and asks us to soothe the pain that the land feels.

The artist notes that future plans for the superfund site after successful remediation include development of Lakeview Bluffs, a resort community with a golf course, vineyard, boutique hotel and spa, and private beach. The artist is disgusted that the rich will profit again from the land they poisoned and laments that the only way to fund repair is through capitalist investment. She also notes that part of the land may additionally be developed into solar farms in the attempt to lessen reliance on fossil fuel energy. Even with this good intention, viewers may wonder the effects the poisoned land will have on the regular people who would have to construct the farm. She reminds viewers that trauma to the land is generational and complicated, but asks that we not lose hope, and that we do not go gently into the night.

There’s no time to wait for someone else with more expertise or better supplies.

COMPASS by MELISSA SCHWENK

My compass, it was broken
Thank Goddex I was well spoken

Smashed, bashed, forgotten
Lies danced from my lips rotten

Truthfully, I was so lost
No oxygen, just exhaust

The path dissolved
Idling self involved

Spirit offered help with my device
Elemental repair and sound advice

Eager to find my North
A piece, a part, capacity to again set forth

Pay your debts, be kind
Easier to swing than grind

Share your heart
Bare it all in the art

Pay your debts, be kind

Brienne, Repair 2026.

"This project represents healing and mending relationships. One half of the heart represents me, as self and mother. The other half is the heart represents my twins, one boy and one girl.

Through sobriety, spirituality and witchcraft, I have a stronghold on being grounded and have journeyed through hell to heal and arrive here.

I arrived at a self that is healthy, strong, and can offer the best version of myself to my twins.

The colored thread mending and sewing the broken heart pieces together, symbolizes the repairing our relationship can hold.

One half of the thread is blue for my son. The other half is pink for my daughter.

A penny sewn on with gold thread represents spirit and ancestors that are surrounding us, all, in strength, joy and encouragement. I found this mysterious penny moments after asking for a sign, about my twins.

Project sewing was completed on paper that my twins had colored on when they were in beginning school."

Brienne - @moltenhotcosmicwitch

Ancestors are surrounding us, all, in strength, joy and encouragement.

Everything I Know About Repair Today by Heather Darby-DeMarco

First Decide: Repair or Toss to the Bones

I commit to only repairing what I want to cultivate or grow. Is it worth my time or energy?

Everything else I leave to the crows, to the soil, or toss to the bones. Nothing dead is repaired—it’s repair-free. Only fix what feels alive now; the rest can wait (maybe indefinitely.)

Current List of Things to Repair: June 4, 2026

Golf moms carpool chat – say “Hi” and offer to drive next week
Hangnail, right pointer finger
Connection with Kristin - overdue
Knee (ouch) - schedule surgery
Fireplace holes - masonry patch tube, wire-brush, painting prep
Screen in hallway window across from the laundry room – why is there a window
here? Sigh.
Remove henna stain from Lily’s shirt before she returns from Italy
Heart gap – fill or replace or commit to leaving open or something else?
Board in deck near step – take out screws. replace board
Sand and paint deck (ambitious)
House exterior prep – fill holes, sand rough spots, patch/replace bad boards (move to
fall?)
Edit poem #11 & #12 – fix two spots, marked, and submit

Repair-work in Real Time (this week in my house), aka Our Strongly Held Belief

Sometimes my teenage daughter feels slighted by her friends. They plan something and forget to include her or have double dates that she can’t join because she’s happily single this summer. Good for her. I encourage her to repair any damage, however slight, right away.

Here’s what I tell her:

Don’t let it fester. Ask yourself: Are you willing to care for this friendship? If so, fix it. If not, move on.

Stay curious. Ask what’s going on. Find out before you spiral out. Don’t use time/energy obsessing about the potential reason or cause. Stay curious. Ask. Don’t crash out.

Talk openly about the situation. Usually, it’s nothing. A misunderstanding or a blip in teenage communication – so many phones, so few communication skills. If it’s something you can repair, repair it. Ask them how or offer something. Hugs are good or sleepovers or pizza or swimming pool parties. Mend the tear.

Whenever you can, forgive faster. (Forgiveness is a version of self-repair.)

This seems to apply universally in our adult world too. Decide first, if the thing or relationship is worth repairing. Sometimes it’s just not. That’s ok. Not all stains can be removed. Not all rips can be mended. We don’t always have energy to fix broken people or broken boards in the deck. Sometimes it’s easier to move. Sometimes we choose to recycle an old tin missing its lid, or use a ripped shirt for weed control, or burn the old paper garland in the fire. Repair what you love. Repair what loves you back.

Whenever you can, forgive faster. Repair what you love. Repair what loves you back.

Spring Kiln: R E P A I R

Repair the Soil, Prepare the Soul, by Steph H
Mohawk, Mohican, Pocumtoc, and Shakers
here before us, their own dance, givers takers.
Later, logged, littered, a broken parcel
adopted land for which we will marshal.
Floral island within temperate forest
kin then feed and reseed, a repeated chorus.
Oak, beech, birch, maple
Hemlock, fir, spruce, all staples.
Bee balm, borage, blackberries, burdock
Goldenrod, Elderberries, fern and mullein stalk.
Lupine, columbine, violets and trillium
Dandelions, nettles, connected by mycelium.
We sow to grow
‘cause you never know-
Feed plants with comfrey tea
and our own diluted pee!
A closed loop system, we don’t do this in haste,
the next part might seem gross, and in poor taste-
Compost your poo when in the loo,
a composting toilet or outhouse will do!
Sprinkle with shavings and ash from the woodstove,
age in earth, to nourish the chestnut grove.
We give this offer to the land,
upon which and For We Stand!
Repair the soil, faithful, loyal
spin the cycle twist and coil.
And when it’s time to bury our bones
they’ll do so here at A Place of Stones.

Repair the soil, faithful, loyal
spin the cycle twist and coil.

Fragments of Existence, Vermilion Sparx

Context note: I wanted to share the opening piece for the book I'm working on. The book and the piece are both called "Fragments of existence". I sincerely hope that it's just as much of an experience to read as it was for me to write.

I put my foot through my mirror today.
It told me who to be, one time too many.
As I sunk to the floor,
deeply despairing,
in the midst of stars made of gleaming glass,
something beautiful happened.
I saw myself for the very first time.
Not the self everyone else sees.
Not the self that the mirror, once whole, had shown me.
Not the self society wanted.
Not the self my family wanted.
No.
I saw my bones.
I saw my heart.
Naked.
Stripped away.
Programing and preconceived notions,
Fell away like tattered, ill-fitting clothes.
My stunning, ugly, beautiful, messy, selfless, selfish soul.
My transgender self.
My brown self.
My disabled self.
My witch self.
My warrior self.
My loving and sensitive self.
My fiery and enraged self.
The self that held the wisdom that laughter and tears exist in the same space and are equally sacred.
The self that through all the years I tried to kill.
Over and over until I was spent.
With all the strength I could muster.
The self that, dispite my effort,
resurrected itself.
Stronger and stronger.
Every single time.
This self.
The one I was horrified to be.
The one I always knew was there.
The one I treated like a heckler on the street.
Convinced that if I ignored it long enough, it would finally leave me be.
The self I felt so unshakeably sure would be my undoing.
I met them.
Angry, hurt, and defensive.
I reached for them.
The real me.
And promised not to banish them ever again.
They reached for me.
I held them tight.
Merging, we slept peacefully,
we slipped into sleep among the wreckage.
Whole, and strong.