MOMOS: More Relevant Than Ever.

"Momus," by Juan Martin.
(I cannot locate a website for this artist, although many pinterest pages show his work.
Most of his art is gay/pagan themed & would be of interest to likeminded folks.
If anyone finds his website, please message me so that I can link properly.)

Momos (Μῶμος or Momus). Much maligned child of our beloved primordial mother, Nyx.

Let's not complicate this with caveats: tyranny dislikes critics.

Momos has been framed as an "unfair" or "unreasonable" detractor, but let's look at this rationally. In an irrational world where the gods can do, create, be, destroy, employ, modify & otherwise bamboozle anything they please, is anything (particularly commentary) unfair or unreasonable?

Momos is generally overlooked by humans who seek (or even seek to chronicle) gods. But if he is known for anything, it is his admittedly harsh judgement of the gods' handiwork in Aesop's Fables. I concede that in this circumstance, he was quite rude... but we do not know the backstory.

Personally, I am more fond of his skill as the authority-needling graffiti artist: 

Excerpt from "Graffiti in Antiquity," by Peter Keegan.

There is no shock that this behavior got his ass booted from Olympus. 

It is not news that Nyx's children generally receive poor marks in the literature. I will confess that I was more than a little squeamish when She expected Her place in my cosmology because She brings with her a brood -- much maligned & sometimes malignant. 

However, Time has proven my reticence an overreaction (not unlike the booting of Momos) to what has become a relevant & needful education about Life. 

Further, humanity (or the lack thereof) has proven Momos's role as more relevant than ever. (At least for my people.) 

This is why I will be erecting a sanctum to Momos* in this journal space (watch for it to appear on the sidebar of the blog, under Nyx's gallery). It will be a safe space for our graffiti. 

Everything you wish to say about Our-State-of-Affairs will be an offering to Him. 

And I know He will relish every contrary word of it.

*Updated with link 10/12/17

Wandering: Desperate Circus

Twilight over the Cook Inlet.

With some trepidation I escorted my complicated companion to revisit the Place where Herne has made Himself recognized.

This was very much like a clown show or an early (or late) Trick or Treat: one behemoth of a Norseman "Pirate," one black hooded "Witch" & what might best be characterized as Professor Snape from the Harry Potter series.

Carrying three bottles of mead, a shillelagh, a very large Oath Ring (from a tug boat line) & a drinking horn, I confess that I felt a bit sheepish in the daylight as hikers & tourists looked upon us with complete confusion. As they should.

This was not the time for Herne-hunting. I knew this well enough, but sometimes people are so desperate for connection that you just hold their hand & do your best at the art of damage control.

Along the arduously disorganized & delayed trek, many trees were loved & libated. Many words exchanged that would soon be forgotten. Don Quixote himself may have been channeled.

This was a messy excursion by anyone's standards. 

As I squatted along the edge of the trail & listened to the one-eyed bear of a man extracting my slender, aching friend from the disappointingly vacant darkness of the forest, I could only say to myself, "This is not the Way..."

But what isn't one person's Best Night might be another's. Later, I found myself alone in the still silence, facing Twilight, admiring the expanse of Sea & Sky divided by the horizon, unsure which side was the real side. Really, it didn't matter.

And when I crept back through the dimming light to rejoin my party, I found them seated at the edge of the bluff, framed by sinewy trees & silhouetted against the golden horizon. From their deepest hearts & bellies they sang "Helvegen" in bittersweet harmony. I was enchanted -- it was just... breathtakingly beautiful. (Had it not been completely inappropriate, I would have secreted out my phone & filmed it.)  

I sat witness to this poignant scene until my legs cramped & my nose ran from the cold. I was finally relieved to see the Heathen's bulky shape rise & turn to me. Now would be the time to complete my own Work.

Down to the water we went, leaving the saddest member to wait on the bluff. He could never have managed the descent. The large man who followed me down the familiar trail was nothing graceful himself, sliding on the ice & crashing through the naked undergrowth. I could have managed very well alone, but we are trained as women in this society to distrust the condition of alone-in-the-dark (even when realistically, it might be the safer -- for everyone). 

The tide was high & the Ice ran right up to the water, dropping off abruptly. It made for awkward gyrations, but I did my cleansing & offerings as though atop an ice float at the edge of the smoothest Ocean surface imaginable. My dips made arcs which replicated across the water ad infinitum, playing the shadow against the last of the light. Nyx's starry cloak was surprisingly clear, in spite of the yellowing Anchorage glow. Perfect.

I was expedient, but not unceremonious. In general, I Work from the hip & this instance was no different.

In short time we returned to the bench on the bluff, only to find that our companion had disappeared, leaving the horn crushed, a bottle shattered & the Oath Ring cast aside. He was to have his own adventures, or misadventures, to which we (mercifully) would not be witness.

There is a very fine line between opening up & forcing the doors. Most of us have managed to err on the side of boorish & unproductive from time to time. Yet I find that the gods will still give us chances.

The trick is to learn from, not repeat, these mistakes & never to presume that we can force a "mystical experience." 

***

Today, idling in the chill winds of an incoming storm, I stood alone with my brooding friend in a different forest. In the aftermath, I recalled to him the events of the evening which had been hopelessly lost to him. As I mentioned his entreaty to Herne -- how he stopped at precisely the right place, poured his mead & entered his own lonely chaos -- he nudged me & said, "Do you see the moose?" Looking up, I spotted a long legged beauty, making her way around the Alder only a short distance from us. She watched us calmly, intently & we remained silent as she unhurriedly wandered around & away.

I looked up at him & said, "See, you just mention Herne & there you go."

The (sometimes desperate) path
of so many secrets.

What He Said. (About Imagination.)

"In all forms of magick, the imagination or image-making faculty is the most important factor." 

-- Kenneth Grant, Cults of the Shadow, Ch. 10: The Cult of the Black Snake -- II

Lunar Offerings February 2016

For the Files: Summer Solstice 2015 (In poor quality photos, mostly.)

Solstice. 

Right.

There were simple plans which became larger & larger.
And I had my part(s).

Then came the Fire, to simplify everything, I reckon.

And the only thing to do after all the Big Plans were wiped away was to dance.

So dance we did.

And we said to one another, over & over as we built this thing, "We can do this anywhere, anytime we want. This is an Offering, after all."

And that is true, because we danced in a different bioregion, in a different town, with a different set of spectators, at a different time, on a different day, for a different gathering, on a different substrate in a different configuration, 
With a most difficult sound system named Pancho,
And a disappointingly difficult audience,
And without a doubt I was not at my technical best,
And we didn't even remember to get photos,
And some would say that even our thunder was stolen in the end...

But we could do it all again, anywhere, anytime we want.

It is an Offering, after all.

Wandering: Squirrelhenge

Out of the ordinary weather conditions often call for out of the ordinary adaptations. When in the stillness of the aberrant heat, the fungi fail to call, listen for the voices of others...

Idols & Animism. Wherein Lies the Power?

A portion of the large shrine at a Women's Mysteries ceremony,
a shrine populated by many, many persons.

Goddess figure.

This week I was assigned the job of taking photographs at a Women's Mysteries ceremony where a large credenza was filled with images, symbolic representations & figures of goddess forms. The task gave me pause to consider a simple question with no clear answer: Wherein lies the strength of an idol, icon or other symbolic object?  

Surely some would quite automatically argue that the power lies in the deity/spirit the idol represents, in the connection or entanglement to the godform or spirit, but as a photographer & animist, I would argue differently. Or rather, I would argue that while there is indeed often an external influence present, there is also something else.

Goddess figure.
Possibly Blodeuwedd.

When you spend years behind a macro lens, you invariably see that something else -- something in the small worlds that tells you that these "things" or, as I prefer these persons, have their own strength that resides within, independent of external correspondences. They have an identity, speech & attitude of their own -- if you ask them, they will tell you so. 

Moving across the terrain of this latest spiritual assemblage was no exception -- even the offerings had something to say. (Note: It may seem peculiar, but the little figure dedicated to Bast had a particularly strong character & later as I sorted photos, "he" [owner's designation] seemed to dominate my photos.)

So, while I do not deny the potency & influence of the godform which inspired a specific icon, I also cannot deny the inner sprit of the "things" which represent them. It may not be obvious to the casual observer of these images, but for me, just looking at their photographs tells me so many secrets. 

And if the truth is to be told, I must confess that I am not sure which was more personally compelling that evening; the women & their stories, the ceremony & it's story, or the opportunity to be in the presence of (& the honour of photographing) some incredibly beautiful, beloved & dynamic "object persons" with so many stories of their own.

Rite of Oneiric Insight, Part 3: Reflections

Some quick notes on the Rite of Oneiric Insight (for the files).

"Dream Drawers" in varying stages of production.
A project initiated & further inspired by the Rite of Oneiric Insight.

It is all in the intent.


I attend a dream circle led by a very astute & intelligent attorney who has been journaling & doing dream work since the early 1990's. During a discussion of dreams, dreamwork & how we understand, interpret & relate to our dreams, the attention turned to me. All eyes in my direction, I gestured as though I was placing a hat on my head & said, "Time to put on my crazy hat..." And I offered perhaps a more candid explanation to that group of relative strangers than I would to people closer to me. I had expected eyebrows to raise, or faces to glaze over, but instead the response was, "It is all in the intent."

And so there we have it. I just needed to say it.


A few reflections on the inaugural Rite of Oneiric Insight:

My people:
My (deliberately) small group was comprised of four participants, plus myself as officiant. The group was diverse with ages ranging from approximately 30 to over 60, three women & one man, representing multiple ethnic backgrounds, occupations & spiritual leanings. Two have inclinations toward shamanism -- one modern or "neo-shamanic," one vis-a-vis culture/heritage. One participant has a proclivity for Hellenic practice & the another is a seasoned dream worker. Everyone had their own understanding/interpretation of this journey & everyone had wonderful reflections & energy to contribute.

The Cards Don't Lie:
One of my participants was feeling leery about attending & waffled hot & cold over the week, primarily because of the elixir -- having a sensitive disposition, she was nervous about consuming it. I told her she could participate without drinking it & she agreed to this condition. Since I only had three drinking horns, I told her that was convenient & I would make her some chamomile tea instead. But, when she arrived, she had changed her mind, as she is wont to do & decided the elixir would be fine. I replied that since she is so fickle, she didn't get a drinking horn this time. She also neglected to bring her hearing aids, so she missed much of my introduction, the ceremony & basically all of the visualization despite my careful placement of her head nearly in my lap. 

When the time came to draw cards, she was the only participant to draw a Gate of Ivory. 

I sent her home with the script for the visualization journey & she recorded it for herself, repeating the journey using headphones, with more success (I hope). 

An Inspiration from Offering:
My personal offering was a small apothecary chest which had been fashioned as an advent calendar. I planned to convert the chest into a small, portable shrine for dream ceremony-ing, painting it with a simple black exterior, maybe putting it on feet. I felt the simplicity of the shape & design allowed the personal imagination to operate uninfluenced by specific iconography, with the drawers representing the multitude of possibilities in the dreamworld & also functioning as containers for offerings amassed over time.

The night of the rite, I dreamt of images on the drawers of the chest, each representing various themes, landscapes, concepts one might encounter in the dreamworld. Thus, a new variation on the shrine was born -- the box will probably remain a night sky black while the drawers will each bear a different symbolic image. I also considered using each of the first four people who participated with me as muse for a drawer face. (The drawer with musical composition in the image above was inspired by one of the participants.) 

"It's a gift..."

"From her to you to me to you ..."

Nox Mandala, a gift of gratitude from The Open Gyre, 2015.

A gift of gratitude, added today to the Devotional Gallery dedicated to Nyx.

It's interesting. 

The most beautiful, exotic & unusual gifts I have received in the last months have all been for Nyx. 

A bracelet of Venetian glass, hand-picked & carried back from Italy, 
A black medicine pouch of suede & dentalium shells, made by an Alaskan Native artist, 
A shimmering mandala of teeth, coins & poppies, 
A brilliant, pink, chunk of salt excavated from the Salar de Uyuni... 
All of them, so beautiful. 
All of them, for Her.

Humans married to their rational skepticism or religious dogmas dismiss the Old Ones, but those of us who have been touched, cherish Their Wonder. 
And it shows.

Public Animas Ceremony Part 6: Offerings. (Poetry Appendix)

Continued lessons from the Public Animas Ceremony: An Invitation to Passion.


As promised, this entry includes the 'poetry offerings' chosen & presented by the Animas Ceremony Officiants. This last entry should cover the last of the details & subsequent entries will bring the bigger picture into perspective. Finally. 

I could go on about the people behind these choices & why I love this poem or that, but I am choosing to let them alone here as I have plans to discuss people in more detail & I find that poetry is,  more often than not, best left to speak for itself...

In order of recitation:

The Invitation

by Oriah Mountain Dreamer, (selected verses) read by Kimber

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.

I want to know what you ache for 

and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.

I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool 

for love, 

for your dreams, 

for the adventure of being alive.

I want to know if you can be with joy, 

mine or your own;

if you can dance with wildness 

and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes

without cautioning us to be careful, 

to be realistic

remembering the limitations of being human.

I want to know if you can live with failure, 

yours and mine, ours

and still stand at the edge of the lake 

and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.'

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here.

I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire 

with me and not shrink back.

I want to know if you can be alone

with yourself 

and if you truly like the company you keep 

in these empty moments.

Untitled 

by E. E. Cummings, read by Nat

sometimes i am alive because with

me her alert treelike body sleeps

which i will feel slowly sharpening

becoming distinct with love slowly,

who in my shoulder sinks sweetly teeth

until we shall attain the Springsmelling

intense large togethercoloured instant

the moment pleasantly frightful

when, her mouth suddenly rising, wholly

begins with mine fiercely to fool

(and from my thighs which shrug and pant

a murdering rain leapingly reaches the 

upward singular deepest flower which she

carries in a gesture of her hips)

Reason and Passion XV

by Khalil Gibran, read by Corwen

      Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and judgment wage war against passion and your appetite. 

      Would that I could be the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and the rivalry of your elements into oneness and melody. 

      But how shall I, unless you yourselves be also the peacemakers -- nay, the lovers -- of all your elements? 

      Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul. 

      If either your sails or our rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, on the sea.

      Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion; that it may sing!

      And let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own daily resurrection, and, like the Phoenix rise above its own ashes. 

      Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows, then let your heart say in Silence, "The gods rest in reason." 

      And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky, then let heart - say in awe, "The gods move in passion." 

      And since you are a breath in the gods’ sphere, and a leaf in the gods’ forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion! 

The Emerald Tablet

by Hermes Trismegistus

Isaac Newton Trans., adaptation by Xinther, read by Xinther

Of all things said tis' true without lying or falsehood:

That which is below is like that above, 

And that which is above is like that below,

Doing all the miracles of one thing only.

So do all things have their birth from this One by adaptation;

The Sun its Father, the Moon its Mother,

The Wind its breath, and the Earth its Nurse;

for the father of Perfection is here!

If only converted to Earth will the force be entire.

The force to separate the Subtle from the Gross, 

The Power to blend the Superior and Inferior from above as well as below;

By this means you shall have the glory of the whole world

and thereby all obscurity shall fly!

Penetration into all solid matter and overcoming every subtle force;

So the world was created.

And come admirable adaptations and marvelous conjunctions;

For I am Hermes Trismegistus!

Having three parts of  Wisdom and Philosophy of the Whole

and that which I have said is now accomplished.

The Laughing Heart 

by Charles Bukowski, read by Alli

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

Public Animas Ceremony Part 6: Offerings. (More? Really?)

Continued lessons from the Public Animas Ceremony: An Invitation to Passion.


Back to the business of documenting the Summer Solstice Ceremony -- no doubt with further interruption as life continues & other things also demand a voice...

Once I reach the point when this chronicle is complete, I will set all the pieces in a separate place in this blog where they can be easily accessed. I'm sure that once they are collated, so to speak, they will make more sense to someone wanting to use this as a model.

offering |ˈôf(ə)ri ng; äf-|nouna thing offered, esp. as a gift or contribution : animals as sacrificial offerings.• a thing produced or manufactured for entertainment or sale :Hollywood's latest offerings for the European market.• a contribution, esp. of money, to a church.• a thing offered as a religious sacrifice or token of devotion. -- Apple Dictionary

Animas Ceremony Officiants with
Floral & Fungal Offerings. See also
Art Eggs in background.

Offerings. Just who or what exactly do they serve? How do we classify them? Or, as I like to ask, should we? I believe that the effort of creating & providing ceremony can be an offering in itself. That is, some ceremonies are just fancy packaging for countless smaller offerings. The Invitation to Passion ceremony in its entirety was really one juicy, oversized offering -- the kind you for which get a pilot car and banners -- for our gods, the spirits & for our people. 

A brief aside: Sometimes I get the sense that humans who practice modern forms of animism forget the human-human side of relationship. Folks get wrapped up in summoning spirits, communing with corvids or talking with trees & take their relationships with other humans for granted (perhaps even as obligatory). Being a human animal is being part of the human social system (at least marginally) & being human is necessary to our part in other animistic relationships. In other words, don't deny who you are & don't forget your kin. Tend to your relationships.


Back to the subject at hand. Offerings, in this particular ceremony provided several important functions:

• The offerings served their most conventional function as gratitude gifts & enticement for the spirits of Passion & their associated entities, in the context of the invocation.
• The offerings served as a mechanism for self-expression & social bonding by providing opportunities to create art-objects together in groups & the company of others.
• The offerings, as aesthetic elements, created atmosphere for the ceremony environment.
• The offerings amplified the ceremonial experience by providing a multi-sensory adventure & reinforcing the symbolism, primary themes & intent of the ceremony.

Our offerings, in addition to the Art Bowls already discussed at length, included (but I am sure I will forget some):

Offerings: Eighty-ish Art Eggs

• Art Eggs: Eighty or so hollow hen's eggs blown over the course of several months & then hand decorated & charged/blessed/imbued during a gathering over dinner, drinks & discussion of Passion (or Star Trek, or whatever other rabbit holes). These eggs were placed in the central Officiant's bowl & poured onto the sand to be trampled into the circle during the dance. These eggs captured the eye & imagination, gave a gentle clacking to the close of the ceremony & gave an irresistible crunch underfoot.

Animas Ceremony Officiants with Floral Offerings
Photo credit HPS CC.

• Florals & Fungals: Boxes & boxes of dried flowers & fungi were collected from family gatherings, public rites of passage ceremonies, household shrines, funerals, florist friends, etc. The flowers were used as offerings in four of the Officiants bowls & also the containers carried by two of the dancers for Fire Offerings. They were also abundantly distributed across the ceremonial area & ecstatic dance circle. The florals added to the visual, aromatic & tactile atmosphere & contributed to at least one improvisational ritual.

Dancer's Floral & Fungal offerings for
Animas Ceremony: An Invitation to Passion.
Photo credit HPS CC.

Dancer's Floral & Fungal offerings for
Animas Ceremony: An Invitation to Passion.
Photo credit HPS CC.

Additional baskets of Floral offerings used throughout the evening.

• Home Brew & Cakes: A Lychee Cider was brewed specifically for this event. It was used by two dancers as Fire Offerings while the remainder of the cornelius keg was shared with the community as refreshment. We baked several Chocolate Chipotle cakes, some of which (I hope) were offered to the fire, most of which fueled the revelry & fed hungry dancers. In bear country, we must be sensible -- offerings made on the ground must be limited to things which will not serve as an attractant to our Ursidae neighbors. Thusly, the food in this ceremony was restricted to the fire & our bellies. Food & drink, are of course, traditional/old school offerings which please the spirits, our senses & satisfy the human body in numerous ways.

• Music & Dance: The music, which was carefully collected & arranged by our DJ Magus, has already been discussed in detail in Trust Your People: The Magus (DJ, that is). The dance, thoughtfully choreographed by our teacher & the troupe has also already been discussed in Trust Your People: The Choreographer. My point in mentioning them here is to stress the point that these too were offerings, the dance being perhaps the central or key offering for the entire ceremony. Both served to please the spirits, create atmosphere, facilitate a sensory shift & allow for self-expression, among other things.

Resh K'eljesh making a Dance Offering during
Animas Ceremony: An Invitation to Passion.
Photo credit PCC AK Facebook Page.

• Poetry: Poetry was recited by the Officiants during the ceremonial Invoc/Evoc/Invit-ation. Each Officiant carefully selected their personal Offering-of-Words. In my opinion, this was very likely the most potent & moving portion of the ceremony (although I am sure some may argue that the dance was a fair contender). The poems spoke volumes about each individual & their relationship to Passion. In this way, they were presenting themselves very personally & with vulnerability, before the spirits & our people. Obviously, like the music & dance, the poetry was presented to please the spirits & allow for self-expression, as well as reinforce the symbolism, primary themes & intent of the ceremony. At the risk of receiving further messages to the complaints department, I will present the sacred poetry in a separate post as an appendix to this Offerings post.

• Incense: Finally, let us not forget the primal olfactory. Among the most ancient & widespread of offerings, incense is a mainstay. Copious copal pleases, transports & transforms. Enough said.