Everybody kept telling me a working is only as strong as the intent, and I thought fine, then let us make the intent VISIBLE. So I melted every candle end I owned, plus two boxes from the hardware store, plus a gift candle that smelled like a cinnamon accident, into a five gallon paint bucket, dropped in a wick of braided cotton string, carved the sigil into the top with a screwdriver, and lit it on the kitchen floor at 3:33 in the afternoon with the window open and the dog shut in the bedroom.
It burned like a decision somebody else would have to clean up. The whole top went liquid, the wick drowned, came back somehow, and I reached in to straighten it like an idiot, and that is the mark on my thumb. Smoke alarm, then the downstairs neighbor, then the landlord, who I had been trying to get on the phone for two months about the heater.
He stood in my kitchen looking at a bucket of burning wax with a symbol in it and said, very quietly, that he would send somebody Thursday. Somebody came Thursday.
Was that the sigil, or a man who wanted the strange tenant warm and calm? I do not care. Something MOVED. The intent was heat, and the heat arrived.
One plain line, because it matters: a bucket of wax can go up all at once indoors and put you in the hospital, so do not copy this part. Make the sigil the size of a stamp and shout louder instead.
The bucket is still under the sink. Bananas.