Dedication
Why this project exists. A tribute to Phra Ngang, an offering to a tradition I love, an attempt to bring more people to him.
Who I Am
Like a lot of artists — and I use that word loosely — I'm a little crazy.
To the outside world I look like a perfectly normal corporate drone. But for most of my adult life I've been in serious pursuit of shamanic knowledge and close encounters of the spooky kind. This path has taken me in a lot of directions — I've been initiated into a couple of African religions and traveled to the Peruvian Amazon for ayahuasca ceremonies. It's been an interesting ride, even if it would sound insane to most people.
Anyway, that's who I am.
What Is This About?
This project is dedicated to Phra Ngang — a mysterious and controversial folk saint found in Cambodia, Thailand, and Laos. He's their version of Legba or Maximón. A chthonic, mercurial trickster who looks like a mischievous green imp and specializes in seduction, intoxication, and gambling. He's also sometimes called the holy fool. That's accurate.
Be Careful What You Wish For
Anyway, long story short — about ten years ago I became so fascinated by this entity that I made a deliberate and sustained effort to invite him into my life, full force. I made offerings of whisky, roast pork and cigarettes, I chanted katas at midnight, I got possessed (more than once!) and saw and heard beings from another world right in my little one-bedroom apartment.
The strong spiritual energy I called down — on purpose, if you can believe it — turned my life upside-down in a totally insane roller coaster of hedonistic thrill-seeking that left me almost homeless. But I did get something out of my system, that's for sure. I scratched a deep lust-for-life itch I didn't even know I had. And when it was all over I was left with a kind of wisdom I couldn't have achieved any other way.
It'll sound a little crazy but here's the thing about Phra Ngang: be careful what you wish for, because it might actually come true. There are certain things that sound great in theory but if they actually happen and you're not prepared for them, you get a crash course in karma in a hurry.
But I don't blame Phra Ngang for any of it. At that point in my life I needed a devil on my shoulder to introduce me to my own dark side. Through all kinds of crazy experiences, Phra Ngang took me on a guided tour of every impulse or desire I had ever suppressed. How could there not be a cost for that? Wisdom isn't free.
I'd actually started backwards. I came to Phra Ngang first, from the black magic angle. That was what eventually got me seriously involved in Buddhism proper — by necessity. I discovered the car I'd been driving didn't have any brakes or seatbelts.
The Vision
So anyway — back to the project. Somehow or another I got my life back together and decided I wanted to honor him in some way. The channel was open. He wanted this to exist. What I'm transmitting here is my own vision and devotion, but the inspiration was real and direct.
I collect Southeast Asian religious artifacts and I'd noticed over the years that pha yants of Phra Ngang were almost impossible to find. Part of why this exists is to bring more attention to him — to expand his reach and reputation in proportion to what he actually offers. Outside Thailand and Cambodia he's almost unknown.
So what's a pha yant? Quick version: a yantra is a ritual diagram — sacred calligraphy and sorcerer's sigils with a deity in the center. Thais tattoo them on skin (sak yant) or print them on fabric (pha yant). The cloth version is designed to catalyze cosmic forces and bring their energy into your life. Or give certain entities a foothold in your world. (See Innovation for the full breakdown.)
At first the idea was simple — a generative art version of Phra Ngang. Depending on which one you acquired, he'd be holding bags with the symbols of different cryptocurrencies on them. Very 2021.
But then I thought — what if instead of making this a crypto joke, I made it real? Like actually real, in the format it's supposed to be in.
I found a tattoo artist in Bangkok. He didn't want to do it at first. He told me this was dark magic, that I was going to disrespect the spirit. I convinced him I was sincere. We ended up getting along great and produced a lot of beautiful work together. We established the basic composition — Phra Ngang in the center, the surrounding elements, the overall structure.
Then I brought in a Thai ajarn, Ajarn Maha Mettaboon (a Buddhist folk magician) — a practicing sak yant artist who'd been initiated into saiyasart, the Thai tradition of folk magic that covers everything from herbal medicine to necromancy to astrology. He went through everything I'd spent three years designing with the Bangkok artist and told me the Sanskrit was all wrong and the Khom — ancient Khmer script used exclusively for magical purposes — was also wrong. Basically everything had to be redone.
So we redid it. He gave me material from his personal grimoires. I copied it over, put it into the images, and bounced every single element off him over and over until everything was right. In the process I learned what the words meant. I learned the letters. I learned which scripts were for protection, which were for attraction, which were for drawing wealth, which were for evading enemies.
Then I decided it had to be a flag. And if it was going to be a flag, it had to be blacklight — the medium that matches what these objects actually are. Sacred art that lives in two registers: one for daylight, and one for the dark.
That's how we got here.
Thank Me Later
I didn't chant while drawing. These won't be blessed by monks in a temple in Thailand. What they are is spiritually inspired art with an accurate and authentic ritual diagram and about ten years of my life behind them.
One more thing worth explaining: the built-in merit donation. Phra Ngang can be worked with — and abused — in all kinds of ways, and that tends to produce karmic backlash. I know this from personal experience. The best protection against that is merit — consistent good action that builds a kind of spiritual buffer of good karma. So I built one into every sale. A percentage of every purchase goes automatically to the Childline Thailand Foundation, which provides food, shelter, counselling, and protection for children living on the streets of Bangkok.
