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

Nyx Scraps: Installment II

It seems that my devotional pages -- "NYX, Νύξ, Nox: Primordial Mother" in particular -- have some benefit to people out there in the ether. Although I choose not to sculpt my writing to the tastes of others, I do maintain as part of my mission to promote human relationships with the Old Ones. So here I announce new additions to the Nyx page with updates to Hypnos & the Oneiroi to follow in subsequent days.

I am uncertain how I overlooked posting this version of the Orphic Hymn #3 to Nyx. This translation, by Apostolos N. Athanassakis is by far my favourite & is the one I use when I read Her hymn.


I shall sing of Night, Mother of gods and men.
Night- and let us call her Kypris- gave birth to all.
Hearken, O blessed goddess, jet-black and star-lit,
Whose delight is in quiet and slumber-filled serenity.
Cheerful and delightsome, O mother of dreams, you love the nightlong revel,
And your gentleness rids of cares, and offers respite from toil.
Giver of sleep, beloved of all you are, as you drive your steeds and gleam in darkness.
Ever incomplete, now terrestrial and now again celestial,
You circle around in pursuit of sprightly phantoms,
You force light into the nether world, and again you flee into Hades.
Dreadful Necessity governs all things.
But now, O blessed one, yea beatific and desired by all,
I call on you to grant a kind ear to my voice of supplication,
And benevolent, come to disperse fears that glisten in the dark.

-- Orphic Hymn #3 To Nyx, Translated by Apostolos N. Athanassakis, 1977


More works for the visually inclined:
(Note: while I prefer more the more traditional renderings of Nyx, I am slowly discovering & including nontraditional pieces which I feel honour Her in a manner fitting Her distinction.)

Allegoria de la Nit
Artist uncertain.
Palau de Cervelló, ballroom ceiling.
Wikicommons image edited by Moma Fauna.

Allegory of Night
Joachim von Sandrart, German, circa 1654-1656
Oil on canvas.
Vienna, Austria, Kunsthistorisches Museum.

Noc
Edward Okuń, Polish, 1903
From the Polish publication, Chimera.

Caption: THE MOTHER THEN WRUNG HER HANDS, WEPT, AND SANG.
Helen Stratton, British Illustrator, (1867–1961)
"...sing me all the songs you used to sing your child.
I am fond of those songs. I have heard them before.
I am Night; and I saw your tears flowing while you sang them."
From The Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Andersen, courtesy WikiSource.

Allegory of Night
Paul Aichele, German, 1859-1910
Bronze & marble.
Figure sold at auction via liveauctioneers.com.

Night

Cesare Lapini, Italian, 1898

White marble.

Figure sold at auction via liveauctioneers.com.

The Night
Natalia Drepina, Russia.
Purchase a print at the artist's DeviantArt page.

Nyx, Goddess of Night
Yoann Lossel, France.
Visit the artist's DeviantArt, Blog or Etsy pages.

Nyx Scraps: Installment I

Scatter here, scatter there, scatter, scatter everywhere... so many pieces, all of which make a Whole, but sometimes might appear disparate to the outside observer.

I have prepared some (among many, so very many!) additions for the the Nyx Devotional Gallery page. Perhaps I do this now, at this time, in recognition of the tipping of the year back towards Her time of dominance. Perhaps it is at the prompting of the poppies which are now in full bloom...

Poppy, from our modest devotional garden. 

Since I am doing this en masse & I have what I think is an interesting multi-media array, I thought it might be worthy of a quick note here. 

Nyktos
Moleskin.
By Edgar Invoker of DeviantArt.

Nyx
Color Work Sketch.
By Laura "Pelick" Siadak.

Nyx
By Jeff Wack.
New Media: digital and acyrlic on Canvas.
Embellished giclee prints available at Sensuous Muse.

Bust of Nyx
Henri Weigele, French sculptor, 1858 - 1927
Bronze / Onyx
(If only I had the spare cash: She Would Be Mine)

Night

Henri Weigele, French sculptor, 1858 - 1927

White marble, marble

Auction details at Invaluable.

Nyx (or Selene)
Artist unknown, Roman, 100-1 BCE.
Bronze statue.
"Cloak billowing behind and toes pointed for landing, the Goddess
 of the Night is fully dressed and carries an object in her right hand that
may be part of a torch; perhaps the moon-goddess Selene." --vroma.org
Currently on view at the Getty Foundation's Getty Villa, USA

Nyx
No attribution available.
(If you have one, please notify me.)

Nyx Mask
By Cyndy Salisbury
Image credit: Hermetic Library Blog Archives.

The goddess Nyx
By Cyndy Salisbury
Image credit: TheArtOfTheMask Etsy Store.

Nyx with Veil of Night
By Cyndy Salisbury
Image credit: Fantast in Focus: Cyndy Salisbury, at the Thinker's Garden

Vassilis Tsabropoulos Hymn III (Ek Nyktos)

Kammerklang's Orphic Hymn No. 3: Nyx

Orphic Hymn to Nyx - Night - Goddess of Deep Space from Chiron Cane on Vimeo.

Lyrics to above recording:

Orphic Hymn to Nyx - Mother of the Gods
.:.
Night
Mother of the Gods
I sing to You
Mother of humankind
Night
who gave birth to all
and who is also known as Kypris
hail blesséd Goddess
indigo luminescence
lit by starlight
You who love silence
and deep peaceful sleep
Euphrosyne
delightful
who loves all-night rituals
Mother of Dreams
You help us forget our troubles
Holy One
You grant us rest from work
giver of sleep
You who are loved by all
horse-rider
shining by night
unending
chthonian as well as celestial
encircling
Your cosmic dance shapes our fate
You shine upon the earth
and Your light reaches into Hades
for You, Ananke
are all-powerful
but now, Blesséd Goddess
I call
You of many treasures
every creature yearns for You
Gracious One
hear our words of supplication
come to us,
propitious one
and put to flight
our fear of the night
Creatrix ...
Creatrix ...
Creatrix
.:.
translation by Andonis Theodoros
2014

Rite of Oneiric Insight, Part 2: Cartomancy & Visualization

Cards used for divination in Rite of Oneiric Insight
(Gate of Ivory, Back, Gate of Horn, respectively)
Gate designs by artist Amanda Kiefer. 

Notes on a couple important details for "The Rite of Oneiric Insight": 

Cartomancy:

In Duncan Barford's Rite of Morpheus, he employs a divinatory technique which involves blindfolded attendees choosing to walk toward one or another corner of the room & then revealing to them which Oneiric gate the corner signifies. I hesitated to follow this technique for several reasons, one of which was the simple fact that I had set the room up in the form of a large bedspace & it would be a hazard to try to have people stumble about blindfolded in loose bedding. The other primary reason is that I placed a great deal more emphasis on the visualization portion of this rite & I didn't particularly want to rouse people so abruptly after a long guided meditation.

Instead, I created a deck of cards which contains only two faces: Gate of Ivory or Gate of Horn. All the backs are identical, of course & I laminated them for longer wear. I gave each attendee a muslin pouch into which they would later put a clary sage steeped cloth & mugwort herb, but before that, they needed to select one of the two cards I had placed in their pouch. I did not dictate how they should do this, only that they should consider carefully their forthcoming dreams with great focus. Some selected right from the bag, others took them out, shuffled & spread them. The result were quite incredible, but I will save that story for "Rite of Oneiric Insight Part 3: Reflections." 


Visualization:

The verbiage used for the visualization's beginning & ending, that is, the relaxing entry into a meditative state & the gentle reentry in to the waking world was borrowed & adapted from several of Jody Whiteley's sleep hypnosis videos & scripts including, but not limited to:

Sleep Hypnosis Hypnotic Bedtime Story for Self Confidence Self Esteem
Sleep Hypnosis for Lucid Dreaming a Free Hypnosis Script
Morning Meditation by Jody Whiteley
Sleep Hypnosis for Self Confidence (newest version)
Sleeping Under Red Eleven (Google Drive)

The body of the dreamwork visualization, or the "Journey to the House of Sleep," I composed using excerpts from a variety of sources including:

Metamorphoses Book XI:573-649 The House of Sleep (A. S. Kline's Version)
Homer, Odyssey 19. 562 ff (trans. Shewring)
Charles K. Dillaway, Roman Antiquities & Ancient Mythology for Classical Schools (2nd ed)

The Orphic Hymn to the Oneiroi found within the visualization I adapted from "Dream" by Kimberly Nichols as published in "The Sacred Songs of Orpheus IV: Ares to Death," in Newtopia Magazine.

The text of the visualization (journey body only) is below. Please note that I have omitted the meditation entry & reentry out of respect for Jody Whiteley & her work. My adjustments to her compositions was minimal -- only small to adaptions for context & sequencing of events were made.


"Journey to the House of Sleep" 
A Visualization for Rite of Oneiric Insight

(Relaxation/Meditation Entry Omitted)

"...you can see where you are going now is some place darker and more mysterious and you can hear the faint sounds of ocean breezes and see a twilight sky and the starry cloak of mother Nyx closes over the scene above you until you are looking at the canopy of Night’s heavens and you come to rest upon the soft earth amongst a swath of tall grasses and wildflowers… and as you land, the wispy, green undergrowth, rustles and scratches the sides of your bed that bumps softly twice and it lands to tamp down the foliage to one side, maybe its your left side, there is a path roughly carved into this bluffy landscape and a door has opened beside your bed to invite you to take a little stroll down this path which leads away from the ocean, bending up over a rise, out of sight and you are curious about what you might find across this meadow so you get up out of your bed or your chair and take a walk along this path… 

big gap… 

The trail is very slightly sandy and feels soft and warm beneath your feet and it is slightly damp, but the air is dry and comfortably cool, not chilly. You near the top of the rise in the path and as you do, the sounds of the sea become a little bit quieter and you notice that the breezes have begun to ebb, slowly and softly disappearing into stillness. 

You keep walking in the dim light of the starry sky and when you reach the crest of the hill, you are amazed to see the Moon has broken over the horizon to highlight a wide, low valley, bathed in blooming poppies and sleepy herbs, drowsy plants from whose juices dew-dappled Night gathers sleep, and scatters it over the darkened earth… at the center of this blanket of ethereal, luminescent flowers is a hollow mountain with a deeply cut cave… 

As you begin your descent along the path into the valley, you notice that the sounds of the world around you have disappeared…  

And you become aware that you are now approaching the House of Sleep, a place where perpetual stillness reigns, no noise being heard but the soft murmur of a small fork of the river Lethe, which creeps over the loose pebbles, and invites you to slumber… 

Here, in Hypnos’s sanctuary, silence dwells. In this place of complete peace, you will find no guardians…
No waking cockerel summons Aurora with his crowing,
no dog disturbs the silence with its anxious barking,
no geese cackle their sharp alert…
No beasts, or cattle, or branches in the breeze,
no clamour of human tongues.
Only the flow of Lethe’s stream, murmuring and calling you to drowse… 

As you come closer to the cave entrance, clouds mix with fog, and shadows of the half-light are exhaled from the ground, and through the soft haze, perhaps in the corner of your eye, you think you might see two grandly adorned gates, fading in and out of the shadows. And you remember that somewhere, sometime, someone told you about these gates, these gates somewhere beyond the North Wind… the Gate of Horn and the Gate of Ivory, from which Dreams emerge…

And you know, somehow, in some way, that there are no doors in this palace and that beyond the mouth of this open cave, if were you to travel through the mouth of this cave, lies a tall bed made of ebony, a downy nest, spread with a dark-hued coverlet, where the god of Sleep himself reclines, his limbs relaxed in slumber… his head surrounded by fantastic visions… 

But you have not come here to have an audience with the drowsy god, you have come to meet the Oneiroi, the dream spirits who gather round him and lie, here and there in the soft, quiet darkness of his bedchamber… uncertain dreams, taking different forms, as many as the ears of corn at harvest, as the trees bear leaves, or grains of sand are strewn across the shores… 

Standing a few yards from the entrance, you pause for a moment and observe your surroundings… could this place be a dream? And this is when you remember why you came here… Yes, to honor the dream spirits that rest here and depart through the spectral gates to offer their visions while we sleep… You reach into your pocket and find a paper, a paper with a hymn printed upon it… It is Hymn to the Oneiroi, and you take a deep breath, filling your nostrils and your lungs with the heavy scent of Sleep’s landscape, and you begin to recite… 

Swift-winged dreams, Oneiroi,
messengers of the stars,
oracles to the human mind,
in the sweet silence of sleep
you arrive without a sound
speaking to the soul…
Whispering, you rouse the senses,
in our slumber you reveal to us
the will of the Blessed Ones.
Sincere souls that take the honest way
of devotion to the divine,
you silently show
glimpses of distant tomorrows.
Good wins every race
in mortal minds.
Good leads our lives
to anticipated pleasures,
and relieves our suffering
so the spirits can reveal
the mysteries of Their domain.
The sincere always end more sweetly,
but the insincere remain blind,
pensive with fears,
their respite from pain is never revealed.
In all things bring us closer
to the noble path.
Reveal the concealed
signatures of fate.
Let no strange apparitions
show us signs of ill omen.
We call to you, beloved Ones,
show us the will of the gods. 

In the tranquil silence of the Moonlit landscape, you sense a stirring from within the very heart of the mountain. This stirring you sense from within, with your intuition, your second sight, because the cave is too dark, this place too quiet for you to discern the movements with your well-used senses. Fixing your eyes on the mountain’s yawning mouth, you wait… 

And with a sudden, silent rush there emerges a flood of airborne creatures, a surging wind of dark forms on the wing… birds, bats, or angels of the Night sky — how many ways can we know Them? They surge into the fog, and if you look, not with your eyes, you might see them leaving through the gates, a fluttering, torrent fading into the shadows… 

The softest breeze brushes your cheeks and flutters down your body and you know this sensation must be the passing of some of these dream spiritits, making their passage into the the realm we call the unconscious… 

Something tells you it is time to return to the path and begin your departure from this sleepy valley, but before you turn away from the House of Sleep, you look once more at your hymnal page. You notice it has changed. Take a moment to trace that page into your memory so that you may carry it back with you to a place of wakefulness…"

(Closing/Reentry Ommitted)

One final note: The Ceremony Pamphlet with Hymns, Outline & Credits in  printable PDF format is available HERE via Google Drive.

Rite of Oneiric Insight, Part 1: General Outline

"Greek Dream" by Jacqueline Kurfürst of DeviantArt.

It is nothing but incredible that I (somehow, by some providence) made this happen before the deadline I set (in a vow of sorts) arrived.

And because I am in the habit of bogging down all my ceremonial documentation with colossal amounts of detail, I am going to begin with an outline of pertinent bits, lest I lose track of things in a rabbit hole along the way... 

The short version of the story is this: there is nothing in the ancient calendars to follow if one wishes to observe a special period of observation for the Oneiroi. So I decided that National Sleep Awareness Week, as established by the National Sleep Foundation was just perfect. Last year it was March 3-10 & I just flailed. Or wasn't ready. Or something. So I vowed to get it figured out by this year.

And here we are. National Sleep Awareness Week: March 2-8, 2015. 

Last night I hosted the first of many (I hope) ceremonies I entitled: "Rite of Oneiric Insight" which I confess isn't the most imaginative name, but it gets to the point. 

This rite has two purposes: 1) to offer respect & gratitude to the gods/spirits of the House of Sleep & their mother Nyx & 2) to request their favor in the form of illuminating &/or prophetic dreams. 

I borrowed ideas from a slew of sources including Duncan Barford, Jody Whiteley & Robert Moss to name a few. And, if I get to the details, I will give all the various sources their due recognition. But for now, just the essentials (my actual rough outline/recordkeeping for this rite):


Rite of Oneiric Insight

General Outline:

Guest arrival & briefing.
Cleansing. (Wash hands and face)
Light lamp or candle, recite Orphic Hymn to Nyx. (Translated by Apostolos N. Athanassakis, 1977)
Light incense.

Make personal supplications &/or thanksgivings.
Libation & hypnagogic tea/elixir.
Visualization with Orphic Hymn to the Oneiroi. (Adapted from Kimberly Nichols, 2013)
Cartomancy.
Closing & direction for Personal Sleep Ceremony.
Extinguish lamp or candle.

Direction for at home procedure:

Personal Sleep Ceremony: 
Light candle.
Recite Orphic Hymn to Sleep. (Translated by Apostolos N. Athanassakis, 1977) 
Extinguish candle.
Morning journaling. (Communication, if desired)

Preparations:

(4) Face towels & washcloths w/soaps, moisturizer
Candle, incense & offerings
(4) Small (approx. 4 oz.) Drinking Horns 
Hypnagogic “Elixir” (herbal formula prepared in advance)
Visualization script
Deck of cards for divination — 2 faces: Gate of Horn, Gate of Ivory
(4) Dream Journals
Pamphlets containing Orphic hymns & ceremony outline
(4) Extra sheets with Orphic Hymn #3 to Nyx
(4) Muslin bags to contain: Clary Sage steeped cotton squares, mugwort herb (optional) 
(4) Beeswax & poppy seed offering candles

Music:
Foretold in the Language of Dreams, Natacha Atlas (during introductions, preparation, pre-visualization)
8 Hours Relaxation Music Sleep Study Meditation and Good Dreams, Jody Whiteley (during visualization/guided journey)

Set/Setting:
I used the living room of the Agora, our community center (a community-funded single bedroom apartment). The setting was intentionally cozy, my partner called it "opium den-ish." There was no "shrine" or "altar" proper, per se -- only a ribbon candle & an offering bowl. (I consciously decided not to bring my statue of Nyx because I didn't feel that imposing my own image of the goddess was appropriate to this very individual experience. I later received the feedback from one attendee that she would have liked to have had the icon present.)

Attendance:
The number of attendees was strictly limited. Everyone who attended was "prescreened" as it were, by a letter stating the expectations & intent very clearly. This was my way of getting around the concern that people might attend out of spectator-desire versus a genuine interest in dreamwork &/or developing a relationship with the House of Sleep. 


Images of the pamphlets can be found below. I will make the printable PDF file available via Google Drive in the near future. I will also post images of the cards used for divination, the visualization script as well as share my reflections... time willing. 

"Rite of Oneiric Insight" pamphlet, outside panels

"Rite of Oneiric Insight" pamphlet, inside panels

Now, to dance.

"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.

Euthanasia: Priceless Gift from the Gods.

Yes. I said it.

Copperplate Nr. 21 from John Flaxman's Iliad, 1973.
Hypnos & Thanatos carry the body of Sarpedon.

I don't pretend to have any answers regarding the "True nature" of the gods. I simply choose to relate in my own personal, often very private way. 

Besides, I am not so sure it really matters much, as long as we are true to how we hold Them in our hearts. 

Whatever They may be -- spirits, ideas, incarnate beings, constructs, archetypes or concrete entities -- there are times when my gratitude for the gift of Their existence (regardless of Their "True nature") is so immense I find myself at a loss for words, gesture, offering.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Fear & Suffering are my biggest hangups.

I cannot bear either. I can bear them even less when someone I love is in Fear or in Suffering.

When the condition of Suffering becomes permanent & incurable, having the option of calling upon the merciful intervention of the children of Nyx, the brothers Hypnos & Thanatos (in that order) is nothing less than priceless. 

Why do we withhold this from ourselves when we give & gain so much relief & comfort from employing Their temperate, humane skills for our beloved nonhuman companions? 

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

I tell a friend that I have just helped the Skeleton Cat die -- in my arms -- because her hindquarters were wasted & she could not walk, or use the bathroom without assistance while an aggressive tumor was working its way out in several directions from behind her eye. Yet her wits were still 100%... my little fighter. 

I could not bear it.

My friend tells me, "That's what happened to my dad. It was hell." 

Dad had to live on in Suffering.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Whether we choose to recognize it or not, the choice to die at the right time, as each individual deems it, is a gift. (It ought to be a right.)

"Drugs are bad," our culture says -- yet we force our people, our beloved ones, to live their last days, weeks, months, years dependent on opiates & other narcotics because we will not permit them the final dignity, the gift, of choice, of mercy, of endings. 

In the refrigerator we have a pharmacy bag filled with tiny, abandoned syringes, each one bearing a Skeleton Cat sized dose of feline-formulated morphine. They will never be used -- she has left them behind.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

This is obviously not a casual decision. Making this call on behalf of my beloved, my best girl, was traumatic & one of the most crushing tasks of my lifetime. But it was still a gift. 

She was a gift. 

Her merciful death was also a gift, not that I would choose to trade. 

Except that I did. 

For her welfare, for her dignity & because I love her enough to give her that immeasurable & unpopular gift. 

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

I very rarely petition the gods, but I made two special requests this past month: First, I asked Mother Nyx for Her ancient, dispassionate wisdom. "Please, please help me recognize when it is the right time..." I asked, fearing my emotions would cloud my judgement. Second, when I knew it was the right time, I asked that Hypnos & Thanatos kindly guide my baby girl into the soft, quiet Darkness of the Abyss.

What ensued, on all accounts, was a gracious, waveless series of events culminating in the uncomplicated, compassionate end of my beautiful friend. How do I thank the gods for this?

Pray to the Night Gods: New Ceremonies & Devotional Galleries

Plate with Cuneiform Script: Pray to the Night Gods
Clay; Early 2nd millennium BC, Ancient East.
Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg

Sometimes it feels a bit lonely. 

Academically at least, I know I am not the only human who prays to the Great Night Gods. There are always others on this crazy planet -- the small pool of people who have been doing it across the millennia. I figure that all of us who honour any of the many & varied Night Gods ultimately find that deep, inexpressible yet compelling reason for engaging Them. After all, Their adoration continues on, whether we have had a tradition passed down to us from our families & culture, or whether we came to Them on our own, feeling our way about as we create & discover new, personal ways to honour Them. 

The Autumn Equinox has passed & the Termination Dust has capped the mountains. Now is the time for Darkness to settle & linger over this land. Time to move inward. Time to honour the Night Gods during their most conspicuous attendance. 

I have begun composing a special divinatory dreamwork ceremony, a Rite for Morpheus & the Oneiric Brood. It will probably take some modeling & inspiration from this ceremony, but much of it will be my own. I think. It seems to make sense to me that this ceremony occur monthly or so, throughout the dark window between the Equinoxes. Perhaps it should extend beyond. I will discern that when the time approaches. It is all open to adjustment & adaptation -- this is how we get it right. This is how we cultivate tradition. 

In honour of the Night Gods & the darkening season, I have finally added the third piece of the devotional galleries here in the journal. These galleries are a continually evolving, inspirational project for anyone who appreciates art, literature or any of my particular Night Gods. They are a perpetual work-in-progress & a personal joy to create.

• NYX, Νύξ, Nox: Primordial Mother
• Children of Nyx: DREAMS, The Ονειροι, Oneiroi
• Children of Nyx: SLEEP, Υπνος , Hypnos

Super Buck Moon: Just Me & My Boys.

Preparing for the Buck Super Moon.
Drying goose eggs. Just the usual weirdness.

We spent much of the afternoon preparing for this Super Buck Moon to rise. Drying eggs, polishing elm branches (Ulmus pumila), shaving manzanita tips (Arctostaphylos patula), trimming black locust thorns (Robinia pseudoacacia)...

It's all part of the weird-work we do.

When Her Time was Right, She rose up, over the rocky crest, into the clouds...

Buck Moon Offerings.

Offerings this time seemed to demand volumes of liquid-fire -- a bowl of vodka with a splash of Chambord. (What is it about Spirits & spirits?) Italian hazelnut chocolates & four sticks of that strange Chinese incense. Not the usual protocols... make it all strong. Very strong. (Like Her namesake?)

Buck Moon Reading.

The children & I paused on the steps under the Moony cloud cover to draw cards by candlelight. No supplemental light would have been necessary had that sky cooperated with Ms. Moon. But clouds are fickle creatures, particularly in the High Desert.

One card each, right out of the satin & velvet bag, no spreads -- just keep it simple. Auspicious messages all around. I read them each a short interpretation in the heady mantle of incense which hovered about us -- where went the Wind?

Finally, to the tent, to spend our second Night under the great gaze of the Moon & the starry cloak of beauteous Nyx. 

In the thick of the night, when silence falls over everyone, even the crickets, sometimes the Coyotes (Canis latrans) "howl." If you have ever heard this, you know that "howl" is an inadequate word because their voices do not resemble dogs or wolves in the slightest. They shriek & cry like ghosts. Every time I hear their haunting songs I have a moment of confusion -- what IS that? This night I wake to the deafening silence, only a single errant cricket can be heard. What is wrong with him? Then, from the North, an otherworldly shriek. A rejoinder comes from the South, then another from the East. They are playing at call & response across this corner of the Valley, here at the mouth of the canyon. I feel both blessed & haunted.

We wake early, ensconced in our tent-turned-roaster, baking in the Morning Sun, unzip the tent to greet Breakfast Canyon, the Bovini & a new Day.  

Moon watching from our tent.

Poetry for the Esbat: Long Night's Moon & Thusly, the Mother's Moon

Nyx & Selene. Attic period (circa 430-410 BC) pottery pyxis.
This object is among the countless ancient treasures of The British Museum. 

Ah yes. The Esbats.

Not that we had forsaken them during our unrecorded period, but in a peculiar way, it feels a bit like we did. 

This forthcoming full Moon is of course, The Long Night's Moon, but I find I must also designate this one "The Mother's Moon." For some, this may seem slightly contradictory -- especially those inclined toward the more traditional Neo-Wheel-o'-the-Year. But, what I do doesn't make much sense to most folks anyway. Nonetheless, I will attempt to explain this Mother's Moon moniker -- in a much abbreviated fashion -- below (perhaps I can elaborate further in future posts).

The past few months have involved a great deal of tying together of strands in the web of my own personal devotional cosmology -- as opposed to a grand-scheme cosmology which I tend to think isn't really all that important or even practical as a polytheistic animist. What I have had is a subtle yet grand connecting of dots, one of those, "Aha!" moments followed by a wide-eyed & protracted, "Whoah…" Except it wasn't actually a moment because it took awhile to unfold in a chain of fantastic "coincidences."

In the process of all this stumbling-upon, I have become, shall we say, familiarized with the primordial mother Nyx. But as Nyx is not the focus of our Esbat activities, I will not elaborate here except to say that as the personification of Night, doesn't it only make sense that she be also honored at this season, when the nights grow to their fullest? Maybe I am backwards, but I don't think so. I think there is great merit in embracing, respecting the darkness & honoring the strength of the lengthening night in opposition to the abbreviated & weakening day. We may still hold our vigil for the Sun & even lament the brevity of the daylight, but let us not forget to relish the richness of Mother Nyx at the acme of her attendance. 

I also mention it because in the process of honoring Nyx & her vast assemblage of children, I spent hours & hours reading Greek & Roman texts, including many of the beautiful Orphic Hymns. So it is that I have come to this Esbat's poetry. I am springboarding or segueing from the devotional project mentioned very vaguely some time ago which led me through an incredible process of discovery. It also, quite by accident (I think) to the Orphic Hymn No. 9 (or 8, depending on if you begin with 1 or 0). This hymn was composed for Selene, Greek goddess of the Moon & although I reserve my devotional practices for the Moon Herself, I find it just as thoughtful & appropriate to share poetry dedicated to a lunar goddess. Besides, I am not entirely certain that the ancient Greeks delineated between the two. (If you know, feel free to clarify.)

The Moon.
From the Fantastic Menagerie Tarot.

I even found a tarot card for this Esbat, taken from our ever proliferating collection of decks (they are much like mice that way). I took a very clever photograph of it paired with one of my latest box rejuvenation projects. Unfortunately, I seem to have arrived in the desert without my camera cable. Luckily for us, the Moon card's captivating image is available at the deck's website: The Fantastic Menagerie Tarot. (Yet another [1, 2] gorgeous creation by the creative minds of Karen Mahoney & Alex Ukolov of Magic Realist Press.) I did not actually select this card, it selected me -- if you understand & I am sure that you may. Or not. The imagery in the card has some apropos symbolism, including the owl so often paired with Nyx in artistic renderings of her & there is also the mouse… *sigh* the mouse which reminds me of the altogether too clever white footeds who have truly overrun this beloved house of ours… what we need are some owls.

But enough prattling of predators & prey -- on to the poetry! (And some really lovely music too!)

ORPHIC HYMN TO SELENE (THE MOON)

 Translated by Thomas Taylor

Hear, Goddess queen, diffusing silver light, bull-horn'd and wand'ring thro' the gloom of Night.


With stars surrounded, and with circuit wide Night's torch extending, thro' the heav'ns you ride:


Female and Male with borrow'd rays you shine, and now full-orb'd, now tending to decline.


Mother of ages, fruit-producing Moon, whose amber orb makes Night's reflected noon:


Lover of horses, splendid, queen of Night, all-seeing pow'r bedeck'd with starry light.


Lover of vigilance, the foe of strife, in peace rejoicing, and a prudent life:


Fair lamp of Night, its ornament and friend, who giv'st to Nature's works their destin'd end.


Queen of the stars, all-wife Diana hail! Deck'd with a graceful robe and shining veil;


Come, blessed Goddess, prudent, starry, bright, come moony-lamp with chaste and splendid light,


Shine on these sacred rites with prosp'rous rays, and pleas'd accept thy suppliant's mystic praise.

Blessings to you this Esbat my friends.