Halloween Practical Magic

Every Halloween I’m reminded that the world still believes in magic.

There’s something ancient about this night. Something older than costumes and candy. Long before it became Halloween, it was Samhain, the Celtic festival marking the end of harvest and the beginning of the dark half of the year. It was said that the veil between worlds grew thin and that spirits could walk among the living. People lit candles and wore disguises, not only for fun but as a way to honor what couldn’t be seen.

I’ve always loved that. The idea that for one night, we all admit there’s more to life than what’s visible.

This year, I found myself getting into that spirit more than ever. As you may know, I decorate the front of my garden with my neighbor’s daughter for every season and holiday. Because my garden is mostly trees and bushes the holiday decor we get tends to be more trim, ribbon and garland nearly all from the Dollar Tree. We’ve collected quite the trove of this stuff as we near our five year anniversary of decorating together.

So this year after we finished decorating the garden, I still had armfuls of leftover trim. I was feeling that early tug toward the holidays and thought, why not combine them? That’s how I ended up with my very first Halloween Christmas tree. It is a fabulous, twinkling tribute to my two favorite seasons. It is the first act of Halloween practical magic. It is magical for sure and also practical because it makes me deliriously happy when I look at it.

Somewhere in all this, another idea began to take shape. I cleared off an old bookshelf and lined the top with LED lights, turning it into what I’m calling my assemblage shelf. This will be a place to build odes to the seasons, to still life, to symbols and stories told through objects. It’s a small return to my artist roots and my love of kitsch, altar-making, and decorative play. It’s also Halloween practical magic because it too makes me deliriously happy.

I’ve always been drawn to how people arrange little corners of meaning. The way a cluster of knickknacks on a friend’s shelf can feel like a quiet wish or a tiny vision board for what they want more of in life. Those small acts of arrangement are creative and spiritual all at once. They’re what I think of as practical magic. This is the kind of magic that’s rooted in daily life, expressed through beauty, symbolism, and intention.

And that’s really what I’m about these days: finding ways to live with magic. It’s something I’ve been shaping quietly in the background, a new branch of my work called Miss Wells Living with Magic. It’s about vision boards, yes, but also about crafting, seasonal rituals, astrology, and the art of making ordinary life feel a little more alive.

So, when I put on my skeleton dress to do laundry this Halloween, I thought — well, this is it. Everyday magic. A wink at the mundane. A reminder that you can fold clothes and still feel enchanted.

Wishing you a beautiful season filled with sparkle, play, and plenty of practical magic.