The All-Pervading By George Frederic Watts (c. 1887-90)

Caryatid

The upper part of one of the caryatids that flanked the Lesser Propylaea of the sanctuary of Demeter and Kore at Eleusis. The caryatid was made in Attica in about 50 B.C. Eleusis Museum, Greece

Poetry in Motion — the phenomenal Florence Welch

hot take but don’t “blessed be”, “my gods are blessing you”, “i will pray for you to my gods” ANYONE unless they explicitly ask for it or have said it is okay.

if some christian came up to you and said “god bless you. i’ll pray for you” there’s a 98% chance you’d feel uncomfortable so why is it okay for you to do the same thing to someone else just because you don’t worship the christian god?

an angel that’s an animal

greek goddesses

Lucifer’s Fall by Ludwig Fahrenkrog

signed-author -> beloved-martyr

And you should, as the core of it all, let go of expectations for your Deities. Let go of what you’ve consumed from the books, let go of authorities, let go of explanations, let go of the neatness - and embrace chaos. Embrace the wilderness which is in itself God, call a name and wait for an answer. What voice sounds like home?

Gods will come multifaceted, iridescent, impalpable. Gods will break rules and expand where a mind burdened by expectations can’t follow. A chimera of a myriad faces might not want to always show only one side. Gods will change. Gods will surprise.

If the nature is untamed, so are its Deities. The wilderness has many names for each of them, a prism to choose a side of. Feeling over explaining, embracing over conforming, preparing over expecting.

Gerrit van Honthorst - An Allegory of Taste, 1622 (detail), oil on canvas

He’s with me.

He’s with me as I roll on the floor and scream out my heart, tossing around my hair and letting my voice ring out. His voice rings out with mine, clawing the ground alongside me, relishing in wild emotion.

In the feels of dancing. Vigorous motion of my own design, He dances with me. Curls unable to be tamed and eyes that hold a wild desire. Living in the moment of pure ecstasy and love for the art.

In the lows, in the darkness of the most grim corners. In the seemingly forgotten, in the instinct for survival.

In the highs, in the most colorful scenery. Senses filled with a glorious awakening, instinct for living life.

He’s with me.

{ Original Poem for Dionysus }