Venus in Furs - Aphrodite on Wheels

 

"You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last

But whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast

Yonder stands your orphan with his gun

Crying like a fire in the sun

Look out the saints are comin' through

And it's all over now, baby blue

The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense

Take what you have gathered from coincidence

The empty-handed painter from your streets

Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets

This sky, too, is folding under you

And it's all over now, baby blue

All your seasick sailors, they are rowing home

All your reindeer armies, are all going home

The lover who just walked out your door

Has taken all his blankets from the floor

The carpet, too, is moving under you

And it's all over now, baby blue

Leave your stepping stones behind, something calls for you

Forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you

The vagabond who's rapping at your door

Is standing in the clothes that you once wore

Strike another match, go start anew

And it's all over now, baby blue"

- Lyrics from It's all Over Now, Baby Blue, 1965, Bob Dylan - (vintage live performance).

"Never apologize, never explain – didn’t we always say that? Well, I haven’t and I don’t."

- Marianne Faithfull, found here.

***

December 1st, 2023

Interestingly enough,  yesterday, while not quite meaning to, I (innocently) stumbled into a witches brew of related occurrences which emerged almost simultaneously. And, it all began when a song began playing in my head the very minute I got out of bed. It was an old Bob Dylan tune sung by a woman... possibly a Joan Baez cover. In fact, the song was playing for hours in my mental background...  all the while I was discovering some of the most amazing spirals I had ever seen in ancient works of art. So, there's that synchronicity.

Then again, if you've read this blog before, you know my policy regarding tunes that come unbidden into ones head... one must find them, explore them, and (inevitably) post them. Which is how Faithfull's cover of this song came to appear here, tucked inside this brilliant video. And, really, the juxtaposition of the older, wiser, matured Marianne Faithfull's voice with her youthful, Venus-like (immortalized) self is perfection. The younger Venus is sweet, fresh-faced and visually flawless; the older Venus who sings Dylan's wistful song is still beautiful, but now has balls (she has dearly paid for). Although the younger goddess charms us, we ultimately put our trust in the older, unapologetic Venus. Inset left is one cover photo for what was her first mismanaged attempt at a comeback album - featuring Baby Blue... - finally released in 1985. 

As it happens, It's All Over Now, Baby Blue is considered Bob Dylan's Symbolist offering... which is interesting, as Symbolist has come up in a recent post. It is also a song which has been covered by many people. (Note: excellent cover by Van Morrison and Them)(link repaired).

I also learned and relearned some curious things about Ms. Faithfull... the film-clips featured in the video, for instance, were from a vaguely erotic 1960's French/British film (with surrealist overtones) she once starred in -  Girl on a Motorcycle / La Motocyclette  -  along with that (gorgeous) French actor, Alain Delon (who plays her extramarital lover). (Spoiler alert!: Apparently, our  motorcycle girl dies en route to meet her illicit lover; i.e., a stereotypical bad ending for a "bad" girl... that is, "dark Venus" through misogynistic eyes,)

Speaking of "dark Venus," Marianne Faithfull has another connection, a family connection, with one of the darkest fictional Venuses of all time: Venus in Furs (also here). Her great, great uncle, Leopold von Sacher-Masoch (re: origin of the word masochism) actually wrote the book! I do remember this from reading her 1994 autobiography - possibly one of the best autobiographies I've read.  What I didn't remember about Venus in Furs, however, is that it was later illustrated by Salvador Dali, an artist I'm featuring in an upcoming Venus-related post!

(Oh yeah, and there's one more thing: Marianne, like Patti Smith, and myself, was also born late in December.) (And, now, for a moment of a silence.)

In any case, it occurred to me today that if a reincarnated Sandro Botticelli was alive (and painting) in the mid-20th century, it might have been Marianne Faithfull's likeness we would see, wavering around on her massive scallop-shell in the Birth of Venus. Of course, if Botticelli were alive in the mid-twentieth century, he probably wouldn't have bothered with the shell. He might have, instead, clothed her in black leather and set her on a motorcycle.

And, in an earlier incarnation? How about a large bird? (See below.)

Stay tuned.

Venus on the move - riding the goose who laid the golden egg - circa 400 BC.
G - DS - 2023

(December 3 note: There was a time when Venus Aphrodite was neither nude, nubile or blonde. She rode, fully clothed, upon a swan - or upon a golden goose - and she carried a staff... or, with both hands  swirled a (sometimes red) chiton in the air above her head. Once, and possibly only once, she balanced a golden plant in her palm... held before her like a sword balanced on its hilt. This happened somewhere near the very beginning...)

Gustave Moreau's Golden Venus

Venus sortant de l'Onde (Venus rising from the waves) - detail - 1866, Gustave Moreau.
Geometry, 2023, DS.

 

“It is the language of God! One day the eloquence of this silent art will be appreciated. I have lavished all my care and endeavour on this eloquence, whose character, nature and spiritual power have never been satisfactorily defined. The evocation of thought through line, arabesque and technique: this is my aim.”

- A quote from Gustave Moreau (1826-1898), one of the most important, and most regarded of the French Symbolist painters, found on this Musée National Gustave Moreau page.

Taken at face value, we can assume Moreau is referring to art, specifically painting, as the "language of God" and "this eloquence." The remainder of the quote, however, seems to indicate a somewhat different context. He uses the word "arabesque," for instance, which loosely interpreted would indicate an ornamental, decorative design pattern, predominately Islamic, but, during Moreau's time - especially in the art world - arabesque was a popular term in which spiral flourishes were often key elements. They were not always "golden," - the spirals in the ancient Roman arabesque panel inset left are not golden spirals - but spirals were, nevertheless implied by the term.

Interestingly, in the Wiki entry for arabesque, however, there is this (ambiguous) line: 

"...proposed connections between the arabesque and Arabic knowledge of geometry remains a subject of debate; not all art historians are persuaded that such knowledge had reached, or was needed by, those creating arabesque designs, although in certain cases there is evidence that such a connection did exist."

Well, Arabic geometry aside, in Moreau's time arabesques were (literally) all over the place. In two words: art nouveau... a decorative style based on the "sinuous curves" and whiplash lines often found in nature. Art Nouveau was nothing if not sexy! It was blatantly erotic, "hidden in plain sight," transforming mundane objects into opulent, undulating feasts for the eyes - and the libido.

Inset right is a French turn of the century interpretation of a Venus mirror - artist unknown - in this case a hand mirror.* Its gorgeous entirety can be found here.

"Fin de Siècle is an umbrella term embracing symbolism, decadence and all related phenomena (e.g. art nouveau) which reached a peak in 1890s. Although almost synonymous with other terms such as the Eighteen-Nineties, the Mauve Decade, the Yellow Decade and the Naughty Nineties, the fin de siècle however expresses an apocalyptic sense of the end of a phase of civilization. The real end of this era came not in 1900 but with First World War 1914."

- Via the Tate Museum online Fin de Siècle section. Interestingly, as we saw in the Renaissance and the Baroque period, certain kinds of "sinuous lines," flourishes and patterns seem to emerge and reemerge for artists and artisans during pivotal points in human history. And we'll see this again.

"My discovery of the Gustave Moreau Museum in Paris when I was sixteen years old shaped my likes and loves for the rest of my life. It was there, in certain women's faces and figures, that I had the revelation of beauty and love."

- Written by André Breton, the founder of Surrealism, in 1961, several years after an important exhibition of symbolist drawings in Paris took place; an exhibition he, in fact, sponsored. He wasn't merely a champion of Moreau's oeuvre, however, he felt that Moreau was genuinely a proto-surrealist... and, possibly, a kindred spirit.

While, throughout the modern, war-torn world, Moreau and the symbolist artists had fallen into obscurity, it wasn't long after Breton's exhibit that the rest of the art world caught on. For a fuller description, read Wiki's entry for Gustave Moreau.

Inset left (above) is the beautiful spiral staircase in the Musée National Gustave Moreau (cited by Breton in the quote). I believe it may be a period piece original to Gustave Moreau's home in which the museum in Paris continues to be housed. For a beautiful group of interior photos, including his studios, see the Film France location pages starting here. It's a charming place and, like André Breton who "haunted" it while still alive, well, I'd haunt it, too. (Imagine walking down that spiral staircase - a metaphysical experience!)

For another art nouveau, Venus-related  treat (inset right), feast your eyes on this Italian, late 19th century marble and alabaster lamp found here. While one is tempted to see this piece (and it's potential spiral) as kitschy, tongue-in-cheek, and more profane than sacred, I think the sculptor's intentions were good, and his lamp is a tribute to Venus. But, why Venus? In most readings - including astrological -  Venus symbolizes harmony, love, sensuality, natural beauty and, ultimately and essentially, all of the arts. She represents the true patron... and the spiritual matron.

***

This is actually my third attempt at creating this post. Mysterious, digital mishaps destroyed the previous two. Well, let's hope "three's the charm"... because I'm superstitious, and most likely will take it as a sign that this post should not - for whatever cosmic reason - be published at all.

The Golden Meme is a rascally thing. Just when I thought I would refrain from spiral hunting in regards to more contemporary artwork, numerous contemporary artworks with spirals appeared! Just like that. While I realize I am not obligated to reveal my findings - and there are arguments for not revealing them at all - well, here I am. And, I am here for one reason: Venus. Because, Venus, in all her many aspects is a deeply pentagonal expression, and it is often through her that this enigmatic "golden" tradition (which I've been glued to for the past few years) was enabled, via some artists, to perpetuate itself for (at least) several hundred years. My only hope is for this tradition to continue in the spirit and with the reverence intended by its originators.

Botticelli was one of the artists involved... and one of the earliest in the more modern leg of our journey, which most likely began in the Italian Renaissance. As it was, many young artists in the following centuries made pilgrimages to Italy, which is one way the Golden Meme -  the pentagonal art tradition - survived and multiplied through time and space. This is my theory, anyway.

Gustave Moreau was also one of these artists... 

(continued after the jump)

It's Halloween...

Marble akroterion (Greece, 350-325 BC). Source: The Met. G: DS, 2023.

(the veil of time between this world and the next

is evaporating)

... connect with a spirit.

______________________________________________________________

Three ancient Egyptian "ka" or "false" doors sourced from this page.

"The term ‘false door’ is itself something of a misnomer, as, from the Egyptian’s perspective, these features were fully functional portals by which the spirit of the deceased might leave or enter the inner tomb to receive the offerings presented to them."

- Via the article: False Doors - The Physical Metaphysical Threshold.

***

I must say that the strange sculptural piece found at the beginning of this post is possibly the weirdest artifact I've ever seen. It's described as an akroterion which, in general, is merely an architectural detail. But, something about it brought the idea of an Egyptian "false door" to my mind... especially when I saw the first golden triangle (inset right).

There's another, similar one at the Met - found on this page - which happened to be found in a graveyard. It seems as if it was created by the same artist, and I wonder if the one I posted was found in a graveyard, too. Both have little knobs towards the top carved into 5-petaled roses, and extravagant, swirling leaves which are said to represent palm trees. The Egyptian Ka doors also featured cornices which are said to represent palm trees.

The Egyptian "false doors" were not actual doors, in the usual sense, as they were carved in stone - solid, seamless and physically impenetrable. These doors had a different purpose - through them one communicated with those "on the other side"; that is, deceased loved ones. One left offerings. The dead were also able to enter the physical world again through the Ka doors. Interestingly they were all designed along the lines of a similar geometry - similar to the golden rectangle but seemingly featuring a different ratio altogether.

My hypothesis? The akroterion featured here served a similar purpose to the Ka doors. It is smaller, of course... a smaller sort of door... kind of like a laptop version of the psychic internet... the little rose promising encryption. 

Happy Haunting!

Cat-O-Lanterns - ceramic - 2023, BG Dodson.

Pentagonal Venus: the φ (phi) in Αφροδίτη (Aphrodite)

A detail of Sandro Botticelli's Birth of Venus (1485), the Uffizi.  Geometry (G): 2023, DS.

"For Plato – and so for the members of the Florentine Platonic Academy – Venus had two aspects: she was an earthly goddess who aroused humans to physical love or she was a heavenly goddess who inspired intellectual love in them. Plato further argued that contemplation of physical beauty allowed the mind to better understand spiritual beauty. So, looking at Venus, the most beautiful of goddesses, might at first raise a physical response in viewers which then lifted their minds towards the godly. A Neoplatonic reading of Botticelli's Birth of Venus suggests that 15th-century viewers would have looked at the painting and felt their minds lifted to the realm of divine love."

- Via the Wiki entry for Botticelli's Birth of Venus.

"The patron who commissioned the Botticelli painting for his country villa was a member of the rich and powerful family of the Medici. Either he himself, or one of his learned friends, probably explained to the painter what was known of the way the ancients had represented Venus rising from the sea. To these scholars the story of her birth was the symbol of mystery through which the divine message of beauty came into the world. One can imagine that the painter set to work reverently to represent this myth in a worthy manner. The action of the picture is quickly understood. Venus has emerged from the sea on a shell which is driven to the shore by flying wind-gods amidst a shower of roses.

...Botticelli's Venus is so beautiful that we do not notice the unnatural length of her neck, the steep fall of her shoulders and the queer way her left arm is hinged to the body. Or, rather, we should say that these liberties which Botticelli took with nature in order to achieve a graceful outline add to the beauty and harmony of the design because they enhance the impression of an infinitely tender and delicate being, wafted to our shores as a gift from Heaven.

 ...Gold is used throughout the painting, accentuating its role as a precious object and echoing the divine status of Venus. Each dark green leaf has a gold spine and outline, and the tree trunks are highlighted with short diagonal lines of gold."

- Excerpts from an 1996 online article regarding Botticelli's Birth of Venus. The article also mentions that the centers of all the roses flying in the sky are also gilded. The head of Venus (inset right, above) is found in the Wiki article. Yes, there's real gold in her hair and skin, too.

Her lovely face is almost a necessary detail to include with the full image because, in the reduced full mages online, her sweet, pensive expression is wholly lost. Botticelli's Venus is an unusual depiction of the goddess. Obviously, she's a young woman, but she is strangely wistful and somehow genderless. If you took away the volumes of strawberry blonde hair and the plucked eyebrows, she could easily be a young man or boy. (I also discuss her here.

 ***

As it turned out (pun intended), the first golden spiral painting I posted on this blog - and what became, more or less, an introduction to the Phi series - was Sandro Botticelli's Cestello Annunciation. At the time, although completely in awe of his two "nested" golden spirals, I was not yet sure what to make of them. Were they simply artifacts of an overall algorithmic spiral design or were they intentional?

Oddly enough, at that time, after doing a quick analysis of a number of Botticelli's paintings, I came to the conclusion that it was impossible to know for certain of the Italian painter's knowledge of the golden ratio; he used a lot spirals of varying descriptions! Although I gave his iconic Venus several glances, I didn't detect the spiral I was looking for... possibly being distracted by that pair of overly large, winged Winds (one of whom may be Zephyrus) hovering in (what appears to be) the foreground (left).

And, then - just this past week - I happened to note the strangely triangular shape of Venus's upper body in the image... specifically accented by her abnormally sloping shoulder. This shoulder, incidentally, has been noted by critics in the past and is considered a (enigmatic) flaw.

But, could there be another explanation, I wondered?

And, then, I found the golden triangle... and it's accompanying pentagonal artifact: the golden spiral... a beautiful spiral, indeed! But, it's optimum placement entailed one teensy, weensy tweak: the triangle needed to be rotated (to the left) by 1 degree. Such a small matter, one might surmise; the slightest skew... and, yet, it's influence lends to the overall preternatural ambience, tension (and, imbalance) of the image. Without it, Venus would not mystify us... her scallop shell "boat" would not sail so seamlessly into our dreams...

The Season of the Witch (Revised 12/27/23)

 

"When I look out my window

Many sights to see

And when I look in my window

So many different people to be

That it's strange, so strange

You've got to pick up every stitch

You've got to pick up every stitch

You've got to pick up every stitch

Must be the season of the witch"

- Excerpt from Season of the Witch; Donovan Leitch, 1966

As we all know, the witching season commenced yesterday, the first day of October and will continue throughout the month until, at least, the second week of November. It was actually a day of epiphanies for me, and fairly positive. But, all the while a song was playing in the background of my mental arena, an old Donovan (website) tune: The Season of the Witch.

Naturally, I eventually turned to YouTube... finding the great video ( above) by Lana Del Ray animated with a... Betty Boop cartoon? Surprise, it was an absolutely brilliant match! Sadly, the owner took it down. I decided to stick with the Donovan's original.

Also included: a great vintage live cover by British performer Julie Driscoll, too, who now performs under the name of Julie Tippets.

 

Oh, and one more thing, I'd like to announce that Trans-D now has a new friend #12; a much nicer number than 11 (the number of chaos). Thanks, Julia and welcome!

Meanwhile, just in case I can't make it to the table on the actual witching day, the 31st, may you and yours have a wonderfully weird witching season!

PS  Joan Jett rocks it.

For the Birds: "Coco," Martha, Chér Ami, GI Joe, Irish Paddy & all the unsung others...

Pigeons Passing By (detail) - Thomas Bennet. A beautiful rendering of passenger pigeons in the wild.

"In 1760 an extraordinary Occurrence happened about the Centre of the Wachovia Tract, on a Creek to this day called the Pidgeon Branch, which has the Appearance of an Improbability, yet actually happened, to the great Amazement of the Beholders, viz. an incredible Number of wild Pidgeons assembled there every Night for a Month together, in a small District, perching manyfold upon one another, so as by their Weight to break down the largest Limbs of Oaks, bending the Tops of others to the Ground … The Noise was so terrible that a Man speaking to his next Neighbor could not be heard without bawling loud, and Waggonloads of Pidgeons killed with Sticks were carried off."

- Both the vintage quote and Bennet's image were found in the essay Pigeons Passing By written by T. Edward Nickens, describing what was purportedly a common occurrence across parts of North America in the 18th and 19th centuries: clouds of nomad passenger pigeons settling upon tree branches which broke beneath the weight of their great numbers. In some respects, it may have been this "plague of locusts"-like behavior which sealed their fate... especially when they sometimes settled on a farmer's crops.

"...And then, within a few decades, it all came crashing down. One of the planet's most successful birds went from billions to one, dwindling down to a final survivor named Martha who lived her entire life in captivity. She was found dead in her cage at the Cincinnati Zoo around 1 p.m. on Sept. 1, 1914, completing one of the fastest and most dramatic extinctions ever witnessed by humans.

...People used all kinds of maniacal tactics to kill pigeons, including burning down nest trees, baiting the birds with alcohol-soaked grain, trapping them in huge nets and even luring them with captive pigeons on small perches — the origin of the term "stool pigeon."

'There were 600 to 3,000 professional hunters who did nothing but chase the birds all year long,' Greenberg says. 'The people hunting them knew they were decreasing, but instead of saying 'let's hold off,' they hunted them more intensely. Toward the end, they just started raiding all the nests. They wanted to get every last bird, squeeze every last penny out of them before they were gone.'

For anyone who had seen torrents of passenger pigeons in the 1860s and 1870s, it was hard to believe they were nearly extinct in the 1890s. After the final holdouts in Michigan vanished, many people assumed the birds moved farther west, maybe to Arizona or Puget Sound. Henry Ford even suggested the entire species had made a break for Asia. Eventually, though, denial gave way to grim acceptance. The last-known wild passenger pigeon was shot April 3, 1902, in Laurel, Indiana."

- Quoted text is from the article: 100 Years Later, the Passenger Pigeon Still Haunts Us, recounting the sad tale of the extinction of the passenger pigeon, the wild North American bird which, in ways, resembled American wild doves (see painting above) more than the standard pigeon. Inset right is a vintage photograph of a juvenile of the species found here.

Illustration from Emil Schachtzabel’s Pigeon Prachtwerk (1906).

"This year marks the centenary of the death of the last Passenger Pigeon, the most numerous bird ever known, but one that did not survive the colonization of North America. I am willing to mourn that last captive voyager, a miracle of evolution, a postcard for extreme biodiversity, a bird more appreciated now than it ever was in life, except as a meal.

Many people, at least in cities where Rock Pigeons are common, think of them as “flying rats"... Perhaps the critics have forgotten a guy called Charles Darwin, who, despite his social position as a member of the country gentry, was interested enough to attend pigeon shows, buy birds, and bore dinner guests such as Charles Lyell with his obsessive table talk about them."

- Via this marvelous page Unnatural Selection: Emil Schachtzabel’s Pigeon Prachtwerk (1906), which reminds us that it was through Darwin's "obsessive" study of domesticated pigeons that he developed his ideas of "unnatural selection" regarding the evolution of a species. One pigeon fancier who was inspired by Darwin's theories was Emil Schachtzabel, who published Pigeon Prachtwerk in 1906 featuring numerous examples of exotic breeds illustrated by the German artist and critic, Anton Schöner (1866–1930) inset left. Directly above and below are two amazing illustrations from the book; many more can be found in the article.

Another strange breed of pigeons via the Pigeon Prachtwerk collection.

(Continued after the jump)

Venus in the Dovecote (Part II): The Ancient Sanctuary

The ruins of the great Sanctuary of Aphrodite in Paphos, Cyprus.

The Sanctuary of Aphrodite Paphia

"The Sanctuary of Aphrodite Paphia was a sanctuary in ancient Paphos on Cyprus dedicated to the goddess Aphrodite. Located where the legendary birth of Aphrodite took place, it has been referred to as the main sanctuary of Aphrodite, and was a place of pilgrimages in the ancient world for centuries."

"Before it was proved by archaeology it was understood that the cult of Aphrodite had been established before the time of Homer (c. 700 BC), as the grove and altar of Aphrodite at Paphos are mentioned in the Odyssey..."

"The sanctuary was closed during the persecution of pagans in the late Roman Empire in the 4th-century, and had at that time been in function for thousands of years since the Late Bronze age."

- Several quotes from the Wiki entry for The Sanctuary of Aphrodite Paphia. The image (centered above the quote) is a scene of Aphrodite's birth carved in high relief in marble (460 BC).

"The systematic excavation of the much dilapidated remains of this sanctuary (1973-1979, 1992-1997, 2007-2008) enabled us to reconstruct the main outlines of its history. The continuity of cult in the sanctuary has been definitely established for more than 1500 years, from the Late Bronze Age (c.1200 BC) to the end of the 4th century AD. Furthermore, there are good reasons to believe that the worship of a fertility goddess on the site reaches back into the chalcolithic period: the Paphian sanctuary thus represents the longest cult tradition known so far in Cyprus. Peculiar to Paphos was the aniconic worship of Aphrodite: she was represented by a conical stone as symbol of fertility, depicted on many Roman coins."

- Via this University of Zurich page. Inset right is the conical stone - a baetylus of andesite - a sacred rock which represented Aphrodite and was imbued with her spirit. Although it looks blue-black in photos it is supposedly a dark green color. This photo was found in the Wiki entry linked to above. Whether or not this conical stone actually represented "fertility," is, however, open to debate.

My personal feeling is that the rock was meant to tether the goddess to a specific place on earth in the same way the magnificent Christian cathedrals were meant to tether the Christian god to a specific location. The pagans realized that no substance was more eternal than a rock - it would outlast both they and much of what they created. I think that many Christian churches possessed a "rock," as well; although not as obvious.*

In any case, Aphrodite's sanctuary was active for over 1500 years. Putting this in perspective, about 500 years longer than the existence of Christianity, thus far... and, realizing that in some places, worship of Venus Aphrodite never really ceased... well!

"Another myth associated with Cyprus and, in particular, with Paphos, is the myth of Pygmalion and his love for the beautiful Galatea. Pygmalion created a female statue of ivory; the statue was so perfect that the creator fell in love with it. Aphrodite took pity on the lovers, and breathed life into the magnificent statue.

The couple had a son, named Paphos, who became the founder of the homonymous town, which he built in gratitude for his birth. He is also credited with the creation and the first temple in honor of the goddess of love."

- From one of the most comprehensive discussions of Venus Aphrodite on the web (via Earth Storiez), we have mention of the goddess and Pygmalion. I had forgotten about the role of the goddess in the story, but, that's the beauty of Aphrodite: she seems to nourish love and creativity across the board, in all its permutations. In the case of Pygmalion, she brought a statue to life for an artist who fell in love with his creation. Inset left is Pre-Raphaelite, Edward Burne-Jones' romantic vision of Aphrodite animating the ivory statue. Note the doves and roses which accompany her.

***

Artifacts from Cyprus - 1450–1200 BC - in the Metropolitan Museum.

Welcome to the ancient world! Above, is an image of the emissaries for our journey to this place in time; 5 weird little Barbie Dolls, if you will... or maybe souvenir fetishes given (or sold) at a pagan sanctuary on major holidays. Regarding the two with rings in their "ears," these might also double as rattles or noise-makers... some hand-held percussion instruments pilgrims (or children) might use in processions or celebrations.

They're said to represent bird-women... and, certainly the large one in the center -  a little over 8" (20cm) in height - has a protrusion on her face that might be a beak... and the figure seems to be holding a bird-like object; perhaps a fledgling. Interestingly, this figure also has very large eyes... similar to the older Sumerian statues... which may indicate that, while this particular statue may have symbolized a goddess as a mother, it may also have represented a fetish imbued with the her spirit.

Not so bird-like is the smaller sculpture on the far left which looks like it might possess a ram's head, and the largest one on the far right which appears (to me) as if it has the face of a lamb. As for the two flanking the central bird-woman, however, well, I don't know, but I bet kids would love them. (I would!)

(Continued after the jump...)

Venus in the Dovecote (Part I)

Dovecote at Nymans Gardens, West Sussex, England.

(All images on this page have been altered for design continuity.)

Poems to Venus

written by Sappho, Lucretius, Empedocles, Arthur Rimbaud, Aleister Crowley,

Marina Tsvetaeva, and myself

“Golden Aphrodite Kypria, who stirs up sweet passion in the gods

and subdues the tribes of mortal men . . ." - Homeric Hymn 5 to Aphrodite

______________________________________

From Hymn to Aphrodite

by Sappho

"Aphrodite, subtle of soul and deathless,

Daughter of God, weaver of wiles, I pray thee

Neither with care, dread Mistress, nor with anguish,

Slay thou my spirit!

But in pity hasten, come now if ever

From afar of old when my voice implored thee,

Thou hast deigned to listen, leaving the golden

House of thy father

With thy chariot yoked; and with doves that drew thee,

Fair and fleet around the dark earth from heaven,

Dipping vibrant wings down the azure distance,

Through the mid-ether;

Very swift they came; and thou, gracious Vision,

Leaned with face that smiled in immortal beauty,

Leaned to me and asked, What misfortune threatened?

Why I had called thee?"

- Excerpt from the Hymn to Venus, the only complete poem which has come down to us from the ancient Greek female poet, Sappho (630-570 BC). Via the same source we have another poem by Sappho (below) in its entirety, found on this page.

Although she was most often considered a lesbian icon in contemporary times - and, eventually a feminist icon - allegedly "she killed herself by leaping from the Leucadian cliffs due to her unrequited love for the ferryman Phaon."

The image (inset left) is a detail from an early Victorian confection by American illustrator, Walter Crane: The Renaissance of Venus (1840).

______________________________________

Aphrodite's Doves

by Sappho

"When the drifting gray of the vesper shadow

Dimmed their upward path through the midmost azure,

And the length of night overtook them distant

Far from Olympus;

Far away from splendor and joy of Paphos,

From the voice and smile of their peerless Mistress,

Back to whom their truant wings were in rapture

Speeding belated;

Chilled at heart and grieving they drooped their pinions,

Circled slowly, dipping in flight toward Lesbos,

Down through dusk that darkened on Mitylene's

Columns of marble;

Down through glory wan of the fading sunset,

Veering ever toward the abode of Sappho,

Toward my home, the fane of the glad devoted

Slave of the Goddess;

Soon they gained the tile of my roof and rested,

Slipped their heads beneath their wings while I watched them

Sink to sleep and dreams, in the warm and drowsy

Night of midsummer."

- The image inset right is a detail from François Boucher's Venus on the Waves, 1769.

(Note: Paphos, Cyprus, is traditionally the birthplace of Venus Aphrodite.)

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 From Lucretius: On the Nature of Things

(De rerum natura)

"Mother of Rome, delight of Gods and men,

Dear Venus that beneath the gliding stars

Makest to teem the many-voyaged main

And fruitful lands - for all of living things

Through thee alone are evermore conceived,

Through thee are risen to visit the great sun -

Before thee, Goddess, and thy coming on,

Flee stormy wind and massy cloud away,

For thee the daedal Earth bears scented flowers,

For thee waters of the unvexed deep

Smile, and the hollows of the serene sky

Glow with diffused radiance for thee!

...And since 'tis thou alone

Guidest the Cosmos, and without thee naught

Is risen to reach the shining shores of light,

Nor aught of joyful or of lovely born,

Thee do I crave co-partner in that verse

Which I presume on Nature to compose..."

-  A fragment of De rerum natura by Roman poet and philosopher, Lucretius (99 – 55 BC). In it, we are informed that Venus Aphrodite was not merely a goddess, but, as in the case of her son, Eros, she was a primeval cosmic force. She was also Lucretius's chosen muse for his verse about "nature." Was his praise merely made in an attempt to court her?

From the Wiki entry we find that scholars tend to minimize the importance of Aphrodite's presence in the poem, finding the references to her as both goddess and Creatrix inconsistent and baffling. However, we are introduced to an obscure philosopher named Empedocles,* purportedly a Pythagorean: "The choice to address Venus may have been due to Empedocles's belief that Aphrodite represents 'the great creative force in the cosmos.'"

Incidentally, the quoted verses were taken from the William Ellery Leonard translation. For another translation, try Lamberto Bozzi's, (2019). 

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(More poems after the jump...)

Vale, Sinéad!

Sorry, but I had to switch videos again! Just found: Sinéad & Roger Waters in a live performance of Water's "Mother" in Berlin. Note: this song is addictive. (I posted Water's newer, solo version here. It's odd, but I was a little snarky - okay, very snarky and I apologize - about Water's bad mother relationship at the time, but I notice I can sympathize with Sinéad's... Ah well, none of us aren't guilty of some sexism, right?)

Meanwhile, here's the missing video: My Lagan Love. Former previous tune: Moorlough Shore. Also, remember this collaboration?

***

This just found... on the lovely blog, Sophia's Mirror: Caoin na Sídhe - Keen of the Sídhe - A Tribute. Also, while there, read Emma's Invocation, from which the quote below was taken.

"We pray for all women who are suffering for their beliefs,

or because of the beliefs of others.

We pray for all women who are suffering for their ideals,

or for their dreams unable to be realized,

or for no other reason than that they are female.

We commend all these women to your grace, Blessed Shekinah,

may they find solace in the shadow of your shining wings."

***

"At the age of 15, her shoplifting and truancy led to her being placed for eighteen months in a Magdalene asylum called the Grianán Training Centre run by the Order of Our Lady of Charity. In some ways, she thrived there, especially in the development of her writing and music, but she also chafed under the imposed conformity. Unruly students there were sometimes sent to sleep in the adjoining nursing home, an experience of which she later commented, 'I have never - and probably will never - experience such panic and terror and agony over anything."

-Via the Wiki entry for Sinéad O'Connor.

I wasn't able to sleep at all last night. And, after I finally dealt with the morning routines and entered cyberspace I was immediately confronted with the news that Sinéad O'Connor has died...

Sinéad O'Connor was an artist's artist. Her intensity and her breathy voice with its dazzling range was sheer poetry and, for many of us, the first of its kind to emerge in the (late 20th Century) rock & roll world. Her technique gave international exposure to a lilting Celtic style -  as in the video above featuring the traditional song, Moorlough Shore - which would eventually become influential across many musical genres. Her popular hit "Nothing Compares 2 U" (originally written and performed by Prince) became solid gold in the music industry. (See the early live version below... impassioned to the degree of an alchemical combustion. Suggestion: watch it in full screen mode.)

I think she was a little scary to (even) me in those days. I sensed a sensitive woman whose calling in life, coupled with her spontaneous and quirky outspokenness, might bring her undeserved tragedy one day. And it did... the world, being what it was in those days... and, to some degree, still is. From the Guardian article:

"She became just as well known for her shaved head and outspoken views. Ripping up a picture of the pope created a huge backlash – there were death threats and radio boycotts. Frank Sinatra wished to “kick her ass”.

Many considered that O’Connor was vindicated by subsequent revelations about Vatican cover-ups of sex abuse scandals."

I think, like many an anguished artist, O'Connor had "the sight," but as in the lives of many artists around the world and across most periods of history, their vision is often confused with madness and cannot be tolerated within the context of the societal status quo then current.

Farewell, daughter of Brigid. Slán abhaile.

Sinéad & her son, Shawn

"But 56 is way, way too young to die. The millions who love you have been dreading this for, oh, three decades, even though you had a life force strong enough to power 50 lifetimes. I hovered for updates when you went missing in 2016; I read your aching, awful posts grieving your son Shane who died by suicide last year, only 17, the worst thing of all."

- From Michelle Griffin's touching tribute: "We needed you, Sinead, the crazy-brave anti-Barbie."

(If the singing bird has flown away, we've no one but ourselves to blame.)

"Coco is Dead" - The Language of a Bird

A Eurasian collared dove.

"That all my life I have listened to the calls

of mourning doves, have heard them hidden far back

under the eaves, or perched among sycamore branches—

their five still notes sometimes lost in the wind—

and not known how to answer: this I confess,

lying here now, on a summer morning, in a dark room

no less lit by the sound of their soft calling..."

- From the poem Mourning Doves by American poet, Jared Carter,

found along with the quote which follows (below), on this Mythic Living page.

"The mourning dove of North America is, as its name suggests, sometimes connected to the notion of the soul’s passing from this life to the next.  Thus, the appearance of the bird has been associated with visitation from the “other side”.  This is not a new metaphor, nor is it only North American. It is usually understood to be a reassuring representation that life goes on, albeit separated from the still-living."

(If there's one thing I've learned about Camus during the course of our dance is that the man is infectious. He makes a writer want - actually need - to write. So, to all of you who write - not necessarily to make a living, but because you need to bring some kind of order and meaning to your life - when blocked, read Camus. There's something to be said for a writer who - without saying so - encourages you to just open up and spit it out.

That being said, I think I can safely report: I've come back to this blog for a bit, and my heart seems to be in it. So, that's good. As to why I suddenly need to blog so much  - and I do not really consciously know - well, it's a slightly unsettling question... which need not be addressed presently. We'll just run with it.

Today's story is about a bird. A bird who can, potentially, talk. A bird who is hunted... perhaps haunted. A familiar bird to many humans as it has emigrated to numerous locations across the globe. It is a refugee, and, this is why it is, perhaps, more unbound than other species of birds. It might also be more intelligent than some of them... it has, after all, learned to adapt to many different countries and has seen many nationalities and races of people. It has heard snatches of human conversation in many diverse languages - gathering them into its memory banks - by, what we can assume to be, a brain's osmotic processes - as it sat quietly, sometimes invisibly, on its high perch overlooking its adopted land.

But, I wasn't aware of any of that when this story first began... a true story, regardless of my interpretation.

Above, inset right, the Watcher, a dove parked outside my bedroom window... as it often is every day.)

***

The star(s)s of my story - the Eurasian collared dove, is related to the mourning dove, unique birds when you think about it. On the eastern coast of the US the mourning dove (inset left & inset right below) is such a common sight and its song is so instantly identifiable, one never fully grasps it's oddness. It is considered a songbird but it's song is short, wistful and slightly melancholy, often described as "a lament". Think: graveyards, willow trees and grey gardens... (Listen to it here.)

But, NM is a different sort of place. It is not near the ocean - the land is trapped... and its ghosts know it. The birds, however, do not. Many of them migrate. Even seagulls, ocean birds who will find no large bodies of water here, fly into NM's dry interior. There is, no doubt, a scientific explanation for this, but, I'd rather imagine the seagulls can sense the ancient oceans which once flowed here thousands of years ago, and are following deeply embedded biological markers in the landscape and atmosphere.

Then again, there is something about birds which demands we endow them with magical powers... whether they possess them or not. However, we must consider: their bodies are flying vehicles. Can't touch that.

Anyway, the story begins in a vague sort of way... that is I began hearing some mysterious bird every morning when I woke up. It had a strange vocalization; not a song really. In an eerie way, it seemed to be saying something. Now, I could go into the general setting in which I live, but, for the sake of economy, I'll skip all that. The fact is, that I heard a bird calling outside of my window every day... and sometimes on the launchpad (my dedicated smoking room). And, it's "song" began to bother me. Abrasive, the bird's vocalizations were not patterns of musical notes. They uncannily resembled human speech, but I couldn't make it out.

Then, one day, it suddenly came to me that I could understand what the bird seemed to be saying. I cannot identify what had changed enabling this to happen. It just did. In fact, it seemed obvious; in it's weird, hollow, bird-voice - which seemed to originate somewhere in its belly - it seemed to be repeating the same phrase over and over again:

 "Coco is dead."

During this same period I had a weird bird encounter. What looked like a mourning dove flew onto the fence surrounding the launchpad (see: Dancing with the Ghost...). It startled me because it came quite close to my face, peering at me with one large dark eye. Then it lifted off and flew away. For anyone familiar with mourning doves, this was unusual; they're timid birds. But, I noticed the band around its neck, and wondered if it might be a slightly different variety of dove, maybe an exclusively southwestern variety. At this stage of the game, I didn't know.

Meanwhile, my bird with its grave announcement had somewhat changed its message. In fact, it was changing its message every other day. I now alternately heard: "Coco is dead," "Coco escaped," "Coco has escaped," and one day, "Coco is ALIVE! Sometimes different names replaced "Coco." There were three different names but I wrote down (and remember) only 2 of them: Yahghol and Jockarelle. (I've spelled them the way they sounded and  would be pronounced - in English - with the accent on the first syllable.) I think it was at this point that I finally took my experience more seriously. I was beginning to imagine I was listening to an official avian town crier...