Once upon a time, now long forgotten, that first human pondered their hand. How is it that I can imagine something, and my hand knows how to make it? How is it there are this many fingers? What can it mean? Hands must be magical. Talk to the Hand.
“Put your hand in mine, we will travel to another time…” ~Lucious Jackson,Gypsy
Khamsa necklace of silver, horn, coral, late 20th c, Morocco
The Hamsa/Khamsa or hand of Fatima, like the Nazar (‘evil eye’) is a common and ancient protective amulet throughout the Mediterranean and Middle East.
Who was Fatima? She seems to have many incarnations…in Islam, she’s the daughter of the prophet Muhammad, five years old when her father began receiving revelations. In Catholicism she’s a Marian apparition, reported in Portugal by three shepherd children. In legend, she is sometimes a great warrior princess, other times, as in ‘Fatima the Spinner and the Tent‘, an artisan who’s accumulated crafting skills and ingenuity save her from one calamitous situation after another. This Sufi retelling of Greek folklore describes Fatima in her role as creatrix and teacher, of which the female hand symbol is perhaps most indicative. Lucky? Yes, because I learned how to make things and can show you how.
“A man who works with his hands is a laborer; a man who works with his hands and his brain is a craftsman; but a man who works with his hands and his brain and his heart is an artist.”~ Louis Nizer
Thus we have the combined energies of crafty magician, Hermes-Mercury and beauty-loving Aphrodite-Venus, whose sacred number is five (symbol is the pentagram) and who is married to Vulcan, the craftsman who forges exquisite, metal creations. We conjure ideas with our imagination, but we manifest them with our hands, though perhaps less and less, these days, which is why, apparently we are getting dumber! Talk to the Hamsa!
Menopause is the new “hot topic”, according to the CBC news.
I’m guessing my Pluto in Virgo peeps “opened the floodgates” (media’s words, not mine) of taboo removal, because if there’s one thing Pluto/Virgo understands, it’s the deep, psychological changes that are going on, together with the physical, as we enter opposite virginity, amirite, ladies? So, as we’ve now ‘crossed over’, let us X-gens pass down what we have learned to the next gens.
Menses and month both come from the same root (men also means moon, and there was even a cute, little moon-god named Men, see below). The Moon is our oldest time keeper, as we find depicted on the walls of Lascaux (this is a recent article about it, here I thought it was common knowledge) and elsewhere, because her cycles coincide with those of the female sex.
In the modern age of electricity, humans became out of sync with these natural cycles and the moods that go with them.
Roman Anatolian ‘Men’ who presided over the lunar months.
When a woman (or a man, for that matter) is not in touch with her lunar nature, or feels ashamed of it, the unexpressed Moon self is diverted to shadow, where it becomes an initiate of the Black Moon, Lilith – you know, like those secret tiki god bohemian black magic clubs that respectable members of society used to have in their basements. Her creative power, like that of Pluto, can turn destructive, self-sabotaging, in an attempt to kill off the false self. When this finally occurs with age, we stop giving a damn what others think, and Lilith becomes a staunch ally and a force to be reckoned with. (She’ll be leaving Cancer and entering Leo in a couple of days, so, ya).
Fun fact: ‘Hysteria’ and ‘hysterics’ were once thought to be caused by the uterus moving around through the body at night. (I think mine was actually doing this during perimenopause).
Grandmother Moon has been keeping time and observing all us babies since we were just amoebas on Earth’s watery womb, so if she could talk (and she does), oh the bedtime stories she could tell. This is especially true under the Cancer full Moon, currently opposite retrograde Mercury. The past is bound to resurface in some shape or form. So how does this relate to menopause?
Venus of Laussel with her calends, Upper Paleolithic
The word itself means a ceasing (pause) of menses. Remember, the menstrual cycle is directly associated with time cycles, both inner and outer. Perimenopause can be even more difficult than menopause or post-menopause (note the lunar triad within the triad, there), because everything is getting de-programmed and re-adjusted to a new phase, a new kind of time…hormones surge and drop in ways that make Cancerian mood-swings seem like a toy see-saw. This reverse puberty onset can be downright terrifying (I personally experienced losing half my blood and requiring a transfusion). Maiden and mother phases grow smaller in the distance, as we cross the threshold into Hecate’s cold, lunar landscape. Here, the unconscious knows no solar age…in the soul, everything is fluid.
As beginner crones (root same as crow and crown), we must now become inwardly re-attuned with the Moon, as we feel the ravages of time on our bodies, and face the fact that the physical is temporal. We fear the body loss, because rational, scientific thinking tells us it is primarily our physical self that defines us (see previous Solar Heroes post), that it is the body that ‘has a soul’. But in fact, it is the eternal soul that has a body, or rather, bodies. Grandmother Moon is firm on this. She presides over the inner world like Sun does the outer. At night, we traverse her realm….but, how many of us at this stage find our sleeping patterns are all over the place? Might it mean that our inner Moon is now wide awake and roaming out of bounds? Or just that darned, roaming uterus?
Will leave you with those thoughts, for now. Stay tuned for more meno memos!
Moon-faced Gorgoneion, protectress of mysteries by RB
Jupiter is back in Aries, until May 16. This masculine, fiery combo embodies the mythology of the solar hero (Aries) on a mission from God (Jupiter) or the ‘superhero’. The Sun’s exaltation is in Aries and the Sun is also the ‘son’.
John Singer Sargent, Hercules, 1921
Weapon-wielding, demi-god sons who saved humanity by wiping the floor with fabulous creatureswere abundant in the ancient world (or at least abundantly immortalized), as they are, today – but one in particular stands out from all the others, for he wears the solar lion’s skin and performs twelve labours, just as the Sun and Jupiter themselves stay a day and a year, consecutively, in each zodiacal house. Sing along if you are old enough…
“Hercules, hero of song and story! Hercules, winner of ancient glory! Fighting for the right, fighting with his might; With the strength of ten, ordinary men! Hercules, people are safe when near him! Hercules, only the evil fear him! Softness in his eyes, iron in his thighs; Virtue in his heart, fire in every part of The Mighty Hercules!”
I was dismayed to learn that the ‘real’ Hercules never had a magic ring, ripped abs and a quiff, or a centaur sidekick who’s favourite expression was “Suffering Psyche!” But my childhood TV cartoon got one thing right, ‘Herc’ was the modern, macho superhero prototype:
“Heracles – or Hercules as he has been more popularly known ever since the Roman times – was the greatest of all Greek heroes, “one who surpassed all men of whom memory from the beginning of time has brought down an account.” A half-god of superhuman strength and violent passions, Heracles was the epitome of bravery and masculinity in the ancient world and the most notable champion of the Olympian order, which he staunchly protected from various chthonic monsters and earthly villains. Even though his short temper and lack of composure did cause both him and quite a few innocent mortals undeserved trouble, the magnitude of his labors was of such an order that it earned him the prize of immortality… Heracles is undoubtedly one of the most iconic figures in all of Greek mythology.” [source]
Drunk Heracles “urinating” (in fact trying to get it up, for erroneous intent).
In the myth, Goddess Queen/evil stepmother Hera, angry that Zeus had sired him with another, who had the gall to name him ‘glory of Hera’, hated her step son and had marked him since birth. She sent two poisonous snakes (of course) to kill him in his cradle, but he strangled them with his bare, chubby little superbaby hands. Years later, grudge firm as ever, Hera served Heracles a potion to drive him temporarily insane and murder his own family. When the drugs wore off and he realized what he had done, remorseful Heracles sought spiritual advice from Apollo, who divined the gruelling tasks for his atonement. (Note that Apollo was a Sun god, who killed and usurped the Python). “In my defence, I was drunk and drugged!”
Delphic oracle with her tripod, Hellenist bell krater detail (British Museum)
The myth of Herc’s 10 labours was likely extended to 12 – which became the official number – because the day and the solar year were also divided into 12 sections (Roman year had formerly been 10 months, also), each through which the Sun himself was ‘guided’ by a lady of the hora, as he traversed the sky in his chariot. Every man of importance in the ancient world, political or religious, was depicted wearing a halo of the Sun’s rays – essentially what a golden crown is, made with the Sun’s metal. Alexander the Great, who self-identified with various mythic/solar heroes, including Heracles, was frequently depicted as Helios. Our image of the haloed Buddha (‘enlightened one’) also comes courtesy of the imported, Greco-Roman Sun God. Of course it wasn’t only reserved for men, they just tended to have a bit more power and a bit less humility.
[Side note: Though I’m not of the ‘there are really 13 signs!’ camp, it’s interesting that, in order to make things solar and mathematically ‘even’, the 13th constellation touching the ecliptic, associated with the serpent (and 13 being lunar) had to be left out. We now know our Sun is itself serpentine in nature, it ‘sheds’ its skin via coronial mass ejections (CMEs).]
Gilt roundel with Alexander as Helios, 4th c BC
“All the seven planets have opened their gates.” – Goethe
Whilst reading up on Heracles and the horae, I took a rabbit hole into horary astrology. Turns out that on the first day of the first month of 2023, the first hour belongs to the Sun, as does the day (Sunday), meaning the entire year is going to be under solar influence. The Sun card comes up (19 reduces to 1), as does the Chariot, being that it’s a universal 7 year ( 2+0+2+3). The actual picture of the solar demi-god in his vehicle!
The 7th house cusp of the zodiac, opposite to the natal horizon or ascendant, is where the Sun-self begins its descent and marks the beginning of knowing thyself through others (Libra), which is a different kind of awakening.
Vieville Tarot Sun and Charioteer, looking rather Alexander-ish
Unlike Heracles, the Charioteer, previously initiated as a Lover (6, which some do see as ‘Hercules at the crossroads’, choosing between Vice and Virtue), is now tasked with keeping the solar and lunar sides of his own nature in Balance (8).
The fiery energy of Jupiter/Aries is boundless, until Saturn enters Pisces, March 7 and tempers the flame. Saturn specializes in labours and (karmic) atonement, and it’s entering the 12th sign, traditionally ruled by Jupiter. At best, Saturn/Pisces directs Jupiterian inspiration, so as to give form to visions and dreams, testing their weight and our faith, every step of the way. Are we just being given our tasks or is this the final push? Maybe both? (I have Saturn and Jupiter returns coming up this year, will let you know…).
There are 7 cycles of 3 (plus the Fool) in the Major Arcana, so each 4th card is also a new 1. So the Chariot, as the first card of the third triad,is also a1placement. All ‘1‘ placement cards have to do with the theme of change/transition/death/rebirth: 1–Magician, 4-Emperor, 7-Chariot, 10-Wheel, 13-Unnamed, 16-Tower, 19-Sun.
Being the number of traditional planets/planetary spheres, 7has long held sacred significance as a microcosm, by which the weeks and solar years are divided.
Amulets found in Turkish excavation, dated from 7th-4th c BC
Horary astrology is also tied in with magic (using the energy of the planet at the appropriate time and/or creating talismans for positive outcome or amulets for protection). Before Solstice, I made some planet-themed bracelets. I hadn’t checked the planet hours at their creation, but when the Mars one proved conductive, I wondered whether I’d made it during a Mars hour or on a Tuesday. It remains to be seen whether Sun-ruled hours/days this year will have extra potency, but I intend to find out! In astrology, the Sun is generally seen as a bringer of happiness, unless terribly aspected. Similarly, we feel hope when the Sun shines, except during a drought or heat dome.
“Symbols are to the mind what tools are to the hand–
an extended application of its powers.”– Dion Fortune
To me, the Chariot card is emblematic of Tarot itself and of magic; forces within and without in accordance, the meeting of above and below, the completion of the first 7 steps.
Blue Saharan Sphinx wood icon by Roxanna Bikadoroff
Sphinxes, such as those who ‘pull’ the triumphal Chariot in some decks, were guardians of mysteries and the dead. As human-lion anthropomorphs, they are also symbolic of Aquarius/Leo (or, previously, Leo/Aquarius). We might view the pelt-clad Heracles as an initiate, a man not yet integrated with the solar lion in the spiritual sense. (He did actually become an initiate of the mysteries, but only in order to capture Cerberus). He is still an accursed bête, wearing the old skin but not yet the golden crown of the solar lion (the Nemean lion he flayed represents the constellation of Leo).
Of the Aquarius Age, astrologer Alan Oken, in the 1970s wrote,
“In spite of the utopian visions which this writer shared with millions of his peers in the 1960s, the Age of Aquarius will not be dominated by a suddenly transcended, spiritually oriented, love-sharing world population. Mankind has yet to work out the natural animal aggression which is so much a part of his nature…”
He goes on to say that (as we are seeing) the Aquarian Age will be dominated by ideological conflicts and, because of the energies available and potential for evolutionary advancement, self-awareness is a priority for people of the Aquarian Age if we are to properly channel these energies – physical and metaphysical – for the benefit of all.
Heracles, in burning agony, throws himself on the fire
In the end, after a kind of alchemical trial by pyre, brought about by a toxic balm his second wife inadvertently procured from a centaur (Sagittarius, the centaur sign ruled by Jupiter, is the transforming fire of the zodiacal triplicity), Hera and Zeus both agreed he’d suffered enough, and Herc was placed in the sky, as the constellation formerly identified with Gilgamesh. “Victory is here, raise a mighty cheer!”
Final thoughts…
As we ‘permanently’ enter the rational, masculine, high-tech age of the Titans (fixed air Aquarius, that is), with Pluto making its first ingress into this sign March 23, it’s important to keep sight of our higher Aquarius/Leo nature. The Sun is just one star in the heavens, but it represents the creative here and now, the full potential and expression (Leo) of our present lifetime. Meanwhile, Aquarius, sign of the starry heavens (hence astrology/astronomy), can open our minds to the distant past and future. Imagination is our personal conjuring tool. Through our art, wonder and creativity we are connected to the cosmos and the gods of our higher consciousness. In sync with these, there is no need for domination or force.
‘Anathemia’ sequinned tapestry by Roxanna Bikadoroff
Recessional(A Victorian Ode)
God of our fathers, known of old – Lord of our far-flung battle line Beneath whose awful hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine — Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget – lest we forget!
The tumult and the shouting dies — The Captains and the Kings depart – Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart. Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet. Lest we forget – lest we forget!
Far-called our navies melt away – On dune and headland sinks the fire – Lo, all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre! Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget – lest we forget!
If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe -. Such boastings as the Gentiles use, Or lesser breeds without the Law — Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet. Lest we forget – lest we forget!
For heathen heart that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard• All valiant dust that builds on dust, And quarding calls not Thee to guard. For frantic boast and foolish word, Thy Mercy on Thy people, Lord! Amen.
Recessional was (along with The Vampire) written by Rudyard Kipling in 1897, to commemorate Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee. A cautionary Imperialist, he wished to remind his fellow countrymen where England’s power and glory ultimately came from. ‘Lest we Forget’, of course, became the classic war memorial epitaph. (Nineveh is modern day Mosul, in Iraq).
photo: Staff Sgt. Douglas Olsen, USAF
ANAT/ANATH
Anat was the Goddess of war and death, worshipped throughout Mesopotamia and Egypt, from prehistoric times to the 4th-6th century AD. Sculptures of Anat are sometimes confused with male warrior/death Gods, because of her boyish physique. Her adolescent form, however, distinguishes her from a nurturing, mother goddess. Anat personifies the irresistible, testosterone induced ‘rush’ experienced in both sex and battle, which summons willful young men to one mortal coming of age or another.
Violently she smites and gloats, Anat cuts them down and gazes; her liver exults in mirth.. for she plunges her knees in the blood of soldiers, her loins in the gore of cleaving among the tables.
– From the “Ras Shamra Texts” (Canaanite cuneiform tablets), Syria Primitive, sacrificial rights of Anat (Anath)
Anat warrior idol and relief, Egypt
Anat’s bloodlust may have to do with war and genital mutilation being the male equivalent of menstruation rights, as well as primitive blood sacrifice required to fertilize the earth. But like her prototypes, Durga and Kali, she was also prayed to for peace and severs illusion and attachment.
Remove from the earth war, Set in the dust love; Pour peace amidst the earth Tranquility amidst the fields
photo: Roxanna Bikadoroff
The Tapestry
War is anathema. It depletes blood like anemia. Hence, Anathemia, which sounds like a contagious, war disease.
I began working on this third and final tapestry of my series ‘Queen of the Night – an Orientalist Fantasy in sequins starring Theda Bara as The Vamp’ during the start of the Syrian war (the recent one), then only worked on it sporadically. When the current war in/on Ukraine began, however, I was able to channel some of ‘her’ energy and finish the piece. It definitely has more of an active, animated feel than the first two, with explosions going on all around, comets of doom flying and vultures pointing the way, while red poppies sprout from spilled blood.
The goddess sports a westernized mini skirt with a ‘V’ for victory, black high boots/long gloves, and modern weapons replace her old cleaver and spear.
Anat’s lion becomes a panther, reminiscent of the ‘restricted’ symbol for 18+ movies, ie, when a young man is old enough for sex films, he is old enough for battle – a competition over him between love goddess and war god breaks out. But like Ishtar, dual goddess Anat cleverly embodies both morning and evening star personas.
Theda Bara (anagram for ‘Arab Death’) famously played Cleopatra in the 1917 Fox film, wherein she wore a variety of interesting ‘Egyptian’ headgear. The vulture crown, below was said to be her favourite.
‘Coronation’ crown worn by Theda Bara in Cleopatra, 1917
The mystery of Medusa’s mythos is so deep, convoluted and extensive, it’s no wonder most people are happy to just accept the classical version : Beautiful, young Medusa is caught in the act – either by or against her will – with Poseidon, in Athena’s temple. Unforgiving Athena turns her to a snake-haired monster so frightful, her gaze can turn men to stone. Solar hero Perseus decapitates her (presumably also putting her out of her misery), en route to rescuing chained Aethiopian princess, Andromeda from the sea-serpent, Cetus. Neither Perseus or any of his incarnations were fond of reptiles, it seems. The myth of Perseus slaying Medusa first comes about in the 7th c BC, when the Greeks were establishing colonies in North Africa, but the Andromeda rescue operation seems to have been added, later.
Athena Polias, from her temple and illustration from a ceramic vessel
Athena had long been a major, scale-clad, snake-wielding Goddess, in her own right. Most Goddesses of any clout had a relation to serpents, for obvious reasons – in antiquity, snakes, who dwelt in the ground, among the rocks and in crevices of temple ruins they ‘protected’ were believed to be the children of Mother Earth. The oldest religion was snake worship.
However, the Olympian, virgin Athena was born motherless and mess-less, from Zeus’ mind, his contractions merely a bad headache. Her power over life and death was based in rational judgement, not the voices of chthonic, belly spirits. Likewise, the Greeks distinguished themselves from the ‘barbarians’*.
Why have you hated me in your councils? For I shall be silent among those who are silent, and I shall appear and speak. Why then have you hated me, you Greeks? Because I am a barbarian among (the) barbarians? For I am the wisdom (of the) Greeks and the knowledge of (the barbarians. I am the judgement of (the) Greeks and the barbarians.
– from The Thunder : Perfect Mind (Nag Hammadi Texts)
First known image of Medusa
At first, Gorgons were not imagined as having a massive wig of writhing serpents. They had some mixed in with their plaits/dreads, plus a pair interlocked as a girdle around their waist. In the first depiction we know of, Medusa is a centaur with no sign of snake hair, but possibly wearing a snake skin/skirt. Medusa appeared on the temples of other deities and the Gorgon face** was an apotropiac, used on buildings, shields, jewelry, etc…or to protect a mystery. Suffice it to say that Medusa is the face of Athena, once you’ve had a few cups of ergot wine.
Minoan ‘eye’ octopus jug, bronze volute krater handle, 500 BC (Taranto), Corinthian alabastron depicting Athena Owl flanked by lions creating a Medusa face/wings, 595-500 BC, Greek hydria with Gorgon face, sphinx and turkeys or vultures
There’s so much more to her tale than ‘meets the eye’, but perhaps more than any other myth, the decapitation and demonization of Medusa, who was likely a Libyan seer-queen, signifies the final and often brutal conversion from Goddess worship to patriarchal religion. Also, the white-washing. For this ‘Orientalist Fantasy’, I drew inspiration from the romanticized face of the ancient Goddess, subject of symbolist painters and goth horror. But the title, like ‘Lilimoth’, harkens back to natural source, the Sun’s too-powerful gaze, which snakes like basking in.
Medusa mosaic, Turkey
Fun fact: The Gorgon also had another three sisters, the Graiae (essentially the Fates), who shared one, prophetic eye and one tooth between them, also taken by Perseus. Interestingly, in the Perseus constellation, Ras al-Ghul or ‘Algol’, the blinking star in Medusa’s severed head and most feared star in the sky, is in fact not just a binary, but a trinary star system. One theory is that two of the Gorgon sisters were immortal and one mortal (Medusa), because of the three day period of Algol’s variation – the star ‘winks’ out on the third day. We’re the ancients aware of three stars dancing around each other, like Fates?
Nazar ‘evil eye’ amulet (detail)
dread; fearfulness, but also (archaic) the emotion aroused by something awe-inspiring (awful) or astonishing, fear of God (Rasta).
astonish; to stun, to render senseless as by a blow, to strike with sudden fear or wonder (from Latin ‘attonare’ – to strike with lightening/’tonare ‘ – to thunder).
North African hairstyles, Theda Vamp and Prudence Hymen as ‘The Gorgon’ 1964
*To Hellenists, a ‘barbarian’ was anyone who didn’t speak Greek, typically from North Africa (the word comes from ‘Berbers’).
**Robert Graves, in The White Goddess, also suggests there was never any Medusa Gorgon, but that the face had always been a mask worn by the Goddess. He claims Perseus takes it to protect what’s in the sack, her magical alphabet.
“During the flush years of the magazine industry in the 1990s, before it began to downsize, Roxanna Bikadoroff was one of the most sought after illustrators in the business. These days her restless imagination takes her work in some new directions — from hard-edged visual messages with maximum impact to soft detailed fabric and bead sculpture drawing on traditional women’s crafts and female mythology. In an interview with Whitney Smith, the artist talks about her background, what motivates her, and her artistic process with nine of her pieces…”
Venus is in Pisces until March 21st, so I thought it would be a good time to post some of my mermaid and Stella Maris themed art.
This acrylic painting is called Pacific Puttanesque. I did it when living near the beach in White Rock, BC, back in 2010. The title refers to Puttanesca sauce which basically means ‘whore sauce’, either because it originated in a Naples bordello or because it’s fishy-smelling, due to the anchovies. Her half-shell looks more like a Venus’ flytrap than a scallop and doesn’t quite conceal her monsters. Victorian fantasy postcards provided inspiration. The frame is decorated with local shells, to resemble boards from an old, sunken boat. (NFS, private collection).
Pacific Puttanesque
This next, mixed media piece, called Stella Maris was sort of a pre-trial for the Star card in my Tarot deck, which ended up being something entirely different. It’s from 1999-2000. A friend of mine said after looking at it she had a dream about the Statue of Liberty. (Limited edition, digital prints are available).
Stella Maris
On the topic of Stella Maris, the star in Mari’s crown…
This miniature, beaded icon of her is a more recent creation, the last of a series of attempts to return the universal (or original pagan) meaning to Catholic imagery, which had ‘borrowed’ and adapted it. In Roman times, fish was eaten on Friday to honour Aphrodite-Venus, because it was thought to be an aphrodisiac. This was prior to her being covered with heavy robes.
The star itself might have been Venus or any guiding star for mariners, such as Polaris or Sirius.
Stella Maris
Similarly, we have La Virgin de la Caridad – Our Lady of Charity. One of the Seven Virtues, she is said to have appeared to rescue two Cuban boatmen and their slave, who were caught in a storm, sometime in the early 1600s. Hence she’s the patron saint of Cuba, but of course religion had to be practiced underground there for about four decades. Caridad is also paired with the more Venusian Oshun in Orisha religion, who rules sex, pleasure, marriage, the arts and money matters. (NFS, private collection).
Caridad Mini
Following the BP oil spill disaster, off the coast of Florida in 2010, I created a whole series of these Worst Cocktail Ever Florida Souvenirs, using some old cocktail mermaids, shells and driftwood. Self-explanatory. This is one of two that remain, and they are for sale.
Worst Cocktail Ever Souvenir
Sea Spirit was also painted in response to the BP spill. It takes inspiration from the Cape Dorset prints I loved, as a child. I thought about how awful it would be if such a spill were to occur in the pristine Arctic waters, for all the marine mammals there. Unfortunately, with the ice melting and more oil exploration going on, the likelihood is increasing. So this is a Sedna type Goddess who’s life-giving breasts are clogged with oil blobs. Acrylic on canvas. (NFS private collection).
Sea Spirit
But let’s end things on a cheerier note. This mixed-media icon is of Poseidon-Neptune’s partner, Amphitrite. One of those Victorian fantasy postcards I referred to in the beginning of the post. (NFS, private collection).
This post is about the inspiration and research behind the first in a series of three tapestries, which has it’s own art page, here. I have Black Moon Lilith and Moon on the ascendant, at the same degree, so astrologically speaking, she’s always ‘in my face’, a topic of much speculation, creativity and learning.
LILIMOTH
Initially, I’d wanted to create something that commented on the US invasion of Iraq. But beyond the political, the psychological motivation behind it seemed to be a continuation of an orientalist, biblical fantasy, mythologized on the silent screen by stars like Rudolf Valentino and Theda Bara. Muse of William Fox (Fox Studios), Theda’s stage name was an anagram for ‘Arab Death’ and the legend was that she had been born under the Sphinx. In reality she was a Jew from Cincinnati, Theodosia Burr Goodman…but maybe her first name carried some karmic, Byzantine resonance. My grandparents adored her, and so do I.
Vamps: Philip Burne-Jones, Theda Bara and the Burney Relief (British Museum)
Fun fact: a direct lineage can be traced from Dracula to Fox News. Bram Stoker’s novel was published in 1897, same year as Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee. Kipling wrote two famous poems that year; Recessional (‘lest we forget’ – a warning about hubris, not a requiem) and The Vampire, based on his cousin Philip Burn-Jones’ painting of a lady Vampire. The latter became the script for the 1915 silent film ‘A Fool There Was – a Psychological Drama‘ starring Theda Bara as the Vamp, and the rest is history. Hollywood’s reigning succubus made Fox a fortune, and although the studio changed hands a few times over the decades, the news network still bears his name.
I had spent a number of years as an orientalist, myself, belly dancing in San Francisco, where, while American troops pillaged Bagdhad’s treasures, show biz promoters at home were busy recreating and selling Arab culture in their own name, just like in the good old days. It was disturbing to learn that some of the players and financiers behind the invasion believed that the actual Garden of Eden was located around Baghdad somewhere and needed reclaiming. Oil was only part of the story, Saddam was busy rebuilding Babylon on perceived christian turf at a prophetically critical time (imperialist rulers had long ago pillaged the originals, so he was recreating them) – oh no he didn’t. Patriarchs fighting over ownership of the Goddess’ terrain, what else is new?
‘Left in the Dust’ (early sketch)
Further, looking to nature for older, mythical memories, the Death’s Head Hawk Moth struck a chord. Acherontia atropos is the most popular of the three species, due to her pronounced skull marking and subsequent appearances in literature and film (such as the Silence of the Lambs). She lives primarily in the Middle East:
The species names atropos, lachesis and styx are all from Greek myth and related to death. The first refers to the member of the three Moirai who cuts the threads of life of all beings; the second to the Moira who allots the correct amount of life to a being; and the last refers to the river of the dead. In addition the genus name Acherontia is derived from Acheron, a river of Greek myth that was said to be a branch of the river Styx. [Wikipedia]
Death’s Head Hawk Moth (detail)
Turns out this little Moira of the night shares attributes with our lady Screech Owl (Lilith), such as, well, screeching (or rather, squeaking):
“However, let the cause of the noise be what it may, the effect is to produce the most superstitious feelings among the uneducated, by whom it is always regarded with feelings of awe and terror.”
~ Edward Newman, mid 19th century entomologist [ibid]
Have a listen to the cutest ‘I am the night’ ever, here.
Like Lilitu, who were thought to steal babes from their cradles, Acherontia steals honey from beehives by mimicking their scent. Her larva feast on nightshades, the accumulative affect of toxic alkaloids making them poisonous – perhaps formulating the distinct skull marking on the adult moth.
Nightshade and Owl Moth (details)
Medium being the message, I put away my paper and charcoal, and took out my unused, belly dance costuming supplies. Religious icons require materials that reflect light, be it glass, gold, movie screen or – why not? – sequins. Then I remembered having been blown away by a show of sequinned, Haitian Vodou Drapo (flags) in Montreal, some years prior, and that sealed it.
Lilimoth was completed in 2008. The second piece, Medusun, in 2009. The third piece, Anathemia, in 2022. This is a 3 part blogpost, so do read the other 2 to learn more!
The Titan Goddess Mnemosyne (‘of Memory’) ~ Mother of the Nine Muses
“After the Olympians defeated their Titan rivals, who were known as superb creative deities, the gods asked Zeus to create divinities who were exceptionally innovative and capable of infusing mortals and immortals with abundant gifts and talents.” So he sought out the most gifted one, and charmed her into letting him spend nine nights in her boudoir, resulting in the birth of nine daughters of divine creation.
Mnemosyne made sure her daughters’ gifts were well honed, knowing they would ignite the forces of creativity wherever they went, and taught them that to memorize with meaning was to ‘know it by heart’, not just by brain.
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Clio ~ Muse of History and Writing
“The Muse Clio discovered history and guitar. History was named Clio in the ancient years, because it refers to ‘kleos’ the Greek word for the heroic acts.”
Historians and biographers are inspired by Clio to weave stories out of our collective past, but so are each of us when we put our own life memories down in words, be it in a journal or a song.
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Euterpe ~ Muse of Music
“Euterpe discovered several musical instruments, courses and dialectic.”
Euterpe inspires not only the musician, singer or composer, but also anyone who wishes to develop or already has developed an ‘ear’ for music. Beethoven was so well-loved by Euterpe, even going deaf didn’t stop him.
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Thalia ~ Muse of Comedy and Idyllic Poetry
“Thalia was the protector of comedy.”
Hers is the face of Comedy in the theater masks, Comedy and Tragedy.
‘From joy springs all creation By joy it is sustained Toward joy it proceeds And to joy it returns.’
might as well be Thalia’s slogan.
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Melpomene ~ Muse of Tragedy and Sorrowful Song
Melpomene’s theatre mask is that of Tragedy, Comedy’s polarity.
Tragedy comes from the Greek ‘tragoidia’, meaning ‘goat-song.’
Those who sing the blues are inspired by this muse to elevate their soul, and thereby others, in times of suffering, through music.
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Terpsichore ~ Muse of Dance
“She was called Terpsichore because she was enjoying and having fun
with dancing.”
Terpsichore inspires one’s entire body to become an instrument of rhythm and musical self-expression.
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Erato ~ Muse of Love and Love Poetry
“Her name comes from the Greek word ‘Eros’ that refers to the feeling of falling in love.”
Erato’s inspiration is present in our lives when we are moved by any form of love, be it erotic, parental, universal, but particularly when we love what we do, thereby putting Eros into our creations.
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Polyhymnia (Polymnia) ~ Muse of Oratory, Sacred Hymns and Poetry
When we recognize and are moved by the sacred or mystical in anything enough to want to express it, this is through Polyhymnia’s inspiration. Everything from Haiku to Handel.
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Urania ~ Muse of Astronomy (Astrology) and Science
“Ourania was the protector of the celestial objects and stars;
she invented astronomy.”
Urania’s name is of course the feminine of Uranus (Ouranos) the Sky God. Thus, she opens our minds and imagination to the beyond, awakens our curiosity and exploratory urges, ‘to boldly go where no one has gone before’ and to ponder the mystery of our own existence.
In ancient times, there was no distinction between astronomy and astrology, so Urania was also associated with prophecy.
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Calliope ~ Muse of Eloquence and Epic Poetry
“Calliope was the superior Muse. She accompanied kings and princes in order to impose justice and serenity. She was the protector of heroic poems and rhetoric art.”
The oldest and most accomplished of the muses, Calliope was also the mother of Orpheus. In ancient Greece, epic poetry was considered the most esteemed form. Calliope’s inspiration turns poetry into story-telling and performance, where it becomes part of the collective consciousness. I think we can agree Calliope was Shakespeare’s muse.
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CREDITS:
Mnemosyne excerpt from Angeles Arrien, The Nine Muses/
painting by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, 1881
Clio painting by Charles Meynier, 1800
Euterpe painting by Egide Godfried Guffens 1892
Thalia poem from Mundaka Upanishad/painting by Jean-Marc Nattier, 1739
Melpomene painting by Edward Simmons, Library of Congress, 1901
Terpsichore engraving by Pierre Blanchard, 1900
Erato painting by Angelica Kauffmann, 18th c
Polyhymnia plate 13 from Parnassus Biceps, 1601
Urania painting by Francesco Cozza, ca 1670
Calliope engraving by Goltzius, 1592
