Category Archives: Symbols

Lene Lovich – “Bird Song”

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A little bird told me, you were untrue
Even though, I had, faith in you
I believe, the liars words
Oh the same little bird

So with the bird, one day, you flew away
I woke up, too late, you had gone
Fading on with this song
Of the hurting little bird

Still I watch the sky
Still I wonder why
Still I hope that I…
Can carry on…
If I can’t be strong
If you hear my song
you’ll know that it was wrong, to say good bye…

Such a cold bird, so hard, captured your heart
Does it matter, I am, falling apart
Breaking fast, as the flesh
Of the dead little bird

Still I watch the sky…

Lavender, and Violets, and Blues! Oh my!

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I associate shades of blue and purple with Eros. In the last five years alone, I’ve gone through red periods and white periods, and even a pink period (my first one ever), but I always come back to purples — specifically the more bluish-hue shades.

But lavender works better for rooms than plums, cos it’s lighter and not quite as cool and makes the room feel bigger and more inviting.

Lavender is also an herb, aromatic, that has long held a reputation as a feminising agent. The science behind this belief is actually poorly misunderstood, because phytoestrogents in plants don’t work that way, but controversy remains because skin toxicity only occurs at low levels, in vitro toxicity only occurs to tje foetus’ skin, and studies suggesting it possesses antiandrogenic properties are few and the active element in lavender oil has not exactly been isolated. The ancient Hellenes called the herb nard and learned of its aromatherapy properties as a relaxant and in The Song of Songs, nard is listed as one of the ingredients of the Holy Essence.

My bed, when I’m not in it. (on the bed and left-of-centre, my hand-made pyjamas)

Speaking of Eros and purple, it seems my associations are not that unfounded, as a British study that suggests a correlation between purple bedrooms and more frequent “intimate encounters”. And this includes bedlinen, too. And apparently silk sheets, and presumably satin sheets are included too, also show a correlation of increased boop-oop-a-doop. Personally, I don’t think I’ve noticed a correlation, myself, but hey, I also understand how averages work.

Violets

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Poseidon had a daughter with Pitane, the nymphe of a Laconian spring of a city She gave Her name to. Pitane named the girl Euadnê, and Euadnê grew to be quite beautiful, and she was raised in the Arkadian palace. As Euadnê grew older, Apollon became smitten, and asked Pitane to arrange that He could perhaps lay with Her daughter, and, with joy, Pitane agreed and took delight in dressing Her daughter for the occasion.

When Apollon lay with Euadnê, He believed He was clear to communicate His identity, but Euadnê, unaware of who her real father was believed she was completely mortal and didn’t really believe Him, and having never eaten the sweet nectar of Olympos she was more mortal than the deathless ones, so perhaps it was in her best interest not to, as she was certainly aware of the fate of Semele. When Euadne became full with child, she hid it from her parents, and when the time came, she bore the boy alone and took him far beyond the palace, leaving him in a patch of violets, in hope that someone would find him, and give him a decent life.

On Euadne’s walk home that night, her step-father had a dream that she had given birth to the son of Apollon and had left it in abandoned amongst the tiny purple flowers. When Euadne returned home, the king greeted her and then sent her back out to retrieve the boy. When she arrived, a shepherd had found the child, intending to raise him alone.

“But this is my son,” Euadne pleaded, weeping. “My father tells me I have born the son of Apollon and I must take him back home to retain the god’s favour over Arkadia.”
“But you exposed the child to the elements at the outskirts after carrying him for over half a year; I have been with the boy for barely five mi utes and have already given him a name. I had a vision of a child amongst the wildflowers and when I awoke I felt compelled to find it. Apollon gave me this son to raise as my own and finally make my family happy, by giving them a grandson.”
“If you truly want the child and to become part of his life, my father can have us married. You would receive a handsome dowry for saving the boy.”

After a moment to consider this, the shepherd agreed to return with Euadne to the palace and formalise the engagement with her father that the girl had offered. The engagement was announced, and the wedding was big and lavish.

The boy was named Iamos, after the violet patch, and like this step-father, received visions and prophecies. This gift later led him to Olympia, where he established the Iamidai, the House of the Violets, which continued for centuries in ancient times to hold prophecies and oracles of Apollon.

The violet is sacred to Apollon, and the colour named after it is the colour of prophecy, divination, fate. I’ve always linked it to the Moirai.

Eros Oracle Deck

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I got this deck from a friend for my birthday. It impresses and amuses me for some fairly obvious reasons, and if you can see, you know that one of those reasons is the integration of 1920s Art Deco-influenced illustration. I’d suggest that the creator was spying on me, but the copyright year is 2007, technically predating even this blog. I’m tempted to file this loose association of mine under Shared Gnosis, but I know nothing about the creator and how they regard Eros, as a deity.

I say that I know nothing about how the creator regards Eros because the deck and little information pamphlet included mention nothing of Deity, but this could just be secularising it for greater marketability. The recommended divination in the pamphlet is also only concerning itself with relationships, but the symbolism is theoretically multi-purpose, and I can already think of other ways to use this.

At first, my favourite thing about this deck is the art —I’m just really not that into cartomancy, because I find the pre-set symbolism kind of restricting, in a way. I understand that some degree of intuition is necessary for any good divination, including cartomancy, but the fact that you’re building this intuition off an only moderately-random (at best) draw of pre-designed and selected images, whereas, say, tasseomancy is completely random in the symbols it can produce (and what those symbols actually are is often up to the interpretation and intuition of the diviner), and hydroscrying is also completely random and utilising no concrete symbolism, but a demi-trance state, I find giving divination from cartomancy harder for myself to trust —as it relies on my abilities to interpret someone else’s symbols in regards to the situation— but at the same time, I also occasionally do the Homeric or Greek alphabet oracles, and those are essentially the same principle of pulling meanings from an incredibly limited range of symbolism.

Here’s a scan of some of my favourite cards:

According to Tarot Dame, this deck is also available with an accompanying (limited edition?) book sold with some decks, which neither she nor I have seen, but I did just find a seller who has it at a price I can do, assuming it sticks around.

Ailourophile Hellenes Unite!

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It’s an old article, and maybe not technically “twoo Hewwenic Wecunstwuctionism” (in a sec…), but I liked it, and thought I’d share:

Neolithic Kypriots apparently domesticated the cat before Egypt —or, rather, Neolithic Far Mediterranean settlers to Kyprus, which we should all know by now was destined to be Hellenised.

It certainly does seem an intriguing coincidence that Kyprus is the location of the oldest known example of feline domestication, is the birthplace of Aphrodite (and Adonis), and cats —in modern Western symbolism (with the most likely known source being Egypt’s fertility goddess, Baast)— tend to represent sexuality —typically feminine sexuality.

I therefore posit that cats are Aphrodite’s little fascist jerk-holes, given to us by the Goddess Herself to treat us like crap, ruin our furniture, and yet be somehow so entertaining and endearing that even after creating the technology to blast them all into space, we sent our closest genetic relatives out there, first. Clearly, we’re been duped by the fairest of the Kyprian Goddesses into Her worship —some of the most humiliating, I might add— by giving man cats.

For once, I think Mediaeval Christianity may have been on to something.

I have a very pissy little cat....

Chunk, giving us her Evil Eye

Satin sheets the colour of aubergine

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I sleep on a futon (which is the mattress and blankets, actually) that rests on a Western-style frame that folds into a couch during the day. In all honesty, I can’t think of a time in my adult life, not counting the times I’ve slept in a lover’s bed or couch-surfed, where I’ve slept on anything but. For years, I had a hotel-style bedspread —something more decorative than comfortable to snuggle under— that I folded over the edge of my futon to protect it and make it look better. There are futon mattress covers, but they’ve always been out of my budget. Standard sheets on a futon can be problematic.

A few weeks ago, a large hole started in the bedspread. This is fair enough, as I’ve had it since I was fourteen, and I’m surprised it lasted as long as it did. Still, as unsurprising as this was, it left me in a state of needing to replace it.

I went to Big Lots, as I tend to do when I’m looking for something relatively inexpensive for the house. Long before I discovered an embryonic hole in my bedspread, I had noticed a set of aubergine-coloured satin sheets sized for a full size mattress (the dimensions of my futon) at this store. I wanted them from the first time I saw them, but I didn’t have a “proper” bed for them, and I didn’t want to spend $20 on an uncertainty last year. When I arrived a few days ago to replace my bedspread, “my” sheet set was still there —possibly the longest time I’d ever seen anything stay on the shelves at any Big Lots, ever, and a young couple was looking for sheets. The girl wanted the aubergine satin lovelies on grounds that “they’re pretty”, but her boyfriend talked her out of them on grounds of “they’re impractical”, and she put them back without protest.

Eros invented satin bedding. I know cos He told me so. The surface is slick like the most intimate of a lover’s touch, and the natural creases that form in a pillowcase, when made of satin, feels like kisses. Opaque, but deceptively thin and form-fitting, what the material hides reveals everything. When made of silk, or even synthetics, it’s very strong, but easy to snag. Even when it’s cheap, it feels luxurious and expensive. How can this not be one of Eros’ gifts to humanity?