But she doesn’t wave a wand or wiggle her nose like Samantha on “Bewitched” to make magical things. Hartshorn works hard on her creations, which she sells on Etsy, her website (hartandhornstore.com) and from her shop, Hart & Horn, in the Manitou Art Center.
She’s had a studio at the MAC for about 14 years. There, she’s created imaginative products including hair clips shaped like bats and a little something called “Dragon’s Blood Oil” that’s intended for “protection magic.”
Hartshorn opened the shop in June 2025, but also takes her wares to shows all over the country, such as the Denver Oddities & Curiosities Expo in early October. She didn’t know what to expect for sales, since the economy hasn’t been great, but she didn’t need to worry.
“I was prepared for Denver to be down, and it ended up being my best show of all time,” she says. It’s also a thrill that she sees repeat customers. 
Before Denver, she traveled to Santa Fe, New Mexico; Jacksonville, Florida; and Salt Lake City, Utah. “Back to back to back to back,” Hartshorn says.
She often spends 16 or 17 hours per day getting ready for those shows. Fortunately, she has an assistant who helps her produce inventory; for instance, Hartshorn created patterns for witch hats, her helper cuts the pieces out of fabric and Hartshorn sews them together.
She also teaches classes at the MAC and has a podcast called “My Haunted Life.”
She kind of fell into this line of work, the Colorado Springs native says, although she grew up in a family with unusual interests.
“My dad is the one that got me into the paranormal. My mom does cemeteries and the history,” she says.
They’d visit Manitou for the Emma Crawford Coffin Races and, if she and her brother had gotten good grades, they’d have dinner at The Loop Mexican restaurant.
“We were always here doing stuff as a family, and I just think the energy here is just so wonderful.”
No surprise: Young Angela often dressed as a witch for Halloween, with the occasional zombie or vampire. As she started finding her creative path, “My parents were not overly thrilled with the idea of witchcraft. I was 11, 12, 13, somewhere in there.”
They wouldn’t provide money for supplies, so she’d find old candle stubs, melt them and create new candles. She’d grow medicinal herbs in the family’s garden.
“They’re cool with it now,” she says, and her mother and brother joined her on a trip to Salem, Massachusetts; their family tree includes an ancestor accused of witchcraft there. She also finds kindred spirits in New Orleans.
As a child, Hartshorn swears, she saw the ghost of a young girl in her family home, which is more than a century old. Other people also saw the little blonde, dressed in a red-and-white checkered gingham dress. 
Hartshorn majored in secondary education, with minors in history and religious studies, at Adams State University in Alamosa. Afterward, she began substituting in Manitou Springs schools.
“I loved it so much, but I desperately wanted to pursue fashion and my shop, so I let my license lapse,” she says.
“Witchcraft has always drawn women throughout history. … For the longest time, that was the only empowering thing women could do. They were the healers, the herbalists, and they were actually able to make a living doing it,” she says.
Yes, she can.