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Truly Esim

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I'm in the rafters looking down It's cold up here between walls of stone I made my home and the air hangs heavy with the incense feathers fall from pigeons cooing in the tower I rarely go down there, the view's just so beautiful from here and I can see everybody at their worst points at their worst points I'm not a sadist, I enjoy just being able to be witness of the loneliness and be a higher power In case there isn't one In case there isn't one I'm not a higher power, I just live in the ceiling 'cause I'm lonely on the fringes, and it gives my life some meaning In the exile In my exile the grey light filters through roof slabs and the flagstones glow bright from the stained glass a hundred feet below as I tiptoe creaking over prayers pleading with their maker crying with the choir I'm not immune to the sincerity below me makes me feel, it makes me holy, but through tears I understand that I do not belong no, I do not belong watching the figures, all the saints, but mostly sinners come and go and some are desperate, but the others have the sense that they do belong and I do not belong some only turn towards the heavens when the end Is feeling desperate, have the overwhelming feeling that there's nobody who's looking down at least I'm looking down

DAUGHTER OF LIFE, KNOW YOUR DEATH :

it was not I who loved, yet it was another world I wished for that did. may this rain and day be forever, for tonight only ends in blood and tears of my lost life and brother.

by @to-lamb-to-slaughter (source of image unknown) / rainer maria rilke, translation by c. f. macintyre, from duino elegies; “the second elegy,” / by @to-lamb-to-slaughter (source of image unknown) / medea by euripides

Detail from Caravaggio’s “The Incredulity of St. Thomas”, c. 1601-02.

as I slowly get into artemis and apollo, I feel myself going mad because they truly are one of a kind.

RIP Vivienne Westwood (8 April 1941 – 29 December 2022)

ZIWU ARTEMIS Bra if you want to support this blog consider donating to: ko-fi.com/fashionrunways

PBP. G. Gilfaethwy and Goewin.

I’ve mentioned a few times that I’ve developed my own schedule of ritual and holy days, and that I’ve used the traditional eight sabbats of Neo-Wicca as markers for when to honor the gods of my pantheon.  Beltaine belongs to Gilfaethwy, who is one of the hardest deities for me to understand, while Yule belongs to Goewin.

In the Mabinogion, Gilfaethwy is the brother (sometimes listed as the twin) of Gwydion.  Their exploits kick off all the events of the Fourth Branch; to simplify it, Gilfaethwy lusts after Goewin, an avowed virgin, and Gwydion starts a war so Gilfaethwy has an opportunity to take Goewin for His own.

I’ve seen translations of the myth that state that Gilfaethwy “seduced” Goewin, but the translations that ring more true to me (and this seemed to be corroborated by the small amount of work I’ve done with Them) say that Gilfaethwy raped Goewin, that She had no voice or agency in what happened to Her.  That interpretation of events definitely colors my view both of the Mabinogion and of the gods themselves.  (Disclaimer:  UPG ahoy!)

I consider Gilfaethwy (who, to me, appears as an extremely genderfluid being) as the Primal Force; the id of the gods.  Xhe goes after what Xhe wants, with no thought to consequences or what anyone else thinks or feels about it.  Xir energy is almost destructive in its force; supremely creative but with underpinnings of danger.  It’s the closest to ecstatic creative madness as I’ve ever come.  Xir feast is Beltaine; a time of primal urges and setting aside rational thought to use mindless passion.

Goewin, in contrast, is the Lady of Sorrows.  Of the goddesses in my pantheon, Goewin is the one who understands pain and trials and tears, and She is the one who brings comfort in dark times.  She is the veil that drops down to separate you from the world, and within that veil She gives you the strength to heal your hurts.  She is the lady of Yule; She is the seemingly endless darkness, and She is the spark of light and hope at dawn.