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Archive for the ‘Goddess’ Category

She is hidden there–under the stairs– a beauty in white marble lulled to sleep by the water flowing next to her. She is the keeper of wishes and the goddess of the wishing well. The coins sparkle under ripples. She is warmed with pink stone, and if you choose to sit with her, it will be at a respectful distance, back to back.

It is her quiet company I seek sometimes when I am feeling overwhelmed or drawn out or lacking in some way. Visiting the well replenishes me and restores some clarity, presence and grace to an otherwise hectic life.

Join me for a moment:

Wishing Well Fountain at the Boulder Library – YouTube.

Wishing Well Fountain at the Boulder Library–from above – YouTube

And why not toss in a coin, make a wish~

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Mermaid’s Evening

The Little Mermaid by Amoreno

For the full story of the Mermaid’s Evening, listen and watch:

Tori Amos – Silent All These Years – YouTube.

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“Silent All These Years”

[excerpted lyrics]

But what if I’m a mermaid
In these jeans of his
With her name still on it
Hey but I don’t care
Cause sometimes
I said sometimes
I hear my voice
And it’s been here
Silent All These Years
So you found a girl
Who thinks really deep thougts
What’s so amazing about really deep thoughts?
Boy you best pray that I bleed real soon
How’s that thought for you

Years go by
Will I still be waiting
For somebody else to understand
Years go by
If I’m stripped of my beauty
And the orange clouds
Raining in head
Years go by
Will I choke on my tears
Till finally there is nothing left

But what if I’m a mermaid
In these jeans of his
With her name still on it
Hey but I don’t care
Cause sometimes
I said sometimes
I hear my voice

And it’s been here
Silent All These Years
I’ve been here
Silent All These Years

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Writing fiction is way more intense than journaling.  I’m very unsettled by what’s come out of my brain the past few weeks.

Oil painting reproductions: Arthur Rackham: Pandoras Box

I actually can’t put words to it, even to give you juicy details to laugh about. I am a veteran of fifteen years of intense self-enquiry…and twenty-five pages of fiction just left me flummoxed. I’m not sure what to say, except that I have discovered a potent and terrifying new tool, one I am rather afraid to use.

Novelist Shawn Klomperans recently said, “Writing a book shouldn’t be therapeutic; you should need therapy after writing one.”

I read that on Twitter a few weeks ago and while I thought it was funny, I didn’t get it.

After this week though, I get it.

Needless to say, I’ve been avoiding writing the novel. It’s now linked in my mind with Things I’d Rather Not Think About. It made me sick all last week, complete with fever! However, with only ten more days to go, I’ve decided to confront my demons head on and keep writing, despite a 16K word deficit. Onward! Upward! And I will run for cover if need be.

Also, be forewarned, there’s no way I’m ever going to let anyone read the damn thing.

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“In 1969, aptly named American archeologist Iris Cornelia Love unearthed Aphrodite’s temple but failed to find the original statue.”   — Anna Rohleder

Aside from being a potentially perfect opening quote for a novel, this excerpt points to one of the great tragedies in the history of art. The original sculptor, Praxiteles, is considered the most masterful sculptor of the ancient world. Yet we only know of his work through the copies made by his admirers, an example of which is seen below:

Torso of Aphrodite, 1st century B.C. Greek. Founders Society Purchase, General Membership Fund. Photo copyright 1987, courtesy Detroit Institute of Arts.

Read the original article here.

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Botticelli's masterpiece remains persuasive 525 years later

Sandro Botticelli – The Birth of Venus – iPhone 4S, 4 | GelaSkins.

Venus came to visit recently, and she came to kick me in the ass. If you believe in synchronicity and all things in life having a purpose, even if only because you insist on finding one, then you will understand this.

I just left a job editing contractor reports at a foreclosure mill. Day in, day out I was looking at photographs of destruction and decay, of trampled lives and shitty toilets. Colleagues of mine routinely saw animals left to die in crates, even blood spattered murder scenes complete with chalk outlines.  In the midst of all this (for the brief six weeks I was there) I asked myself, “WHY? Why am I seeing all this?”

I’m an artist. I like beautiful things.  I’m also a transpersonal counselor. My field is often accused of being overly focused on the “higher” elements of human experience at the expense of the nitty gritty raw unpleasantness of the deep psyche.  I am very sensitive and shudder when I see my brother wince in pain.  And yet, there I was, watching people get locked out of their homes, houses ripped apart, their stuff stolen or destroyed.  “Why?” I asked.

And then Venus came to me.

“You have underestimated me,” she said. “You think I am frivolous, my gifts a luxury. You think to do my work in this world is a lark, a fancy, reserved for bored baby boomer housewives and artists on the fringe. You have this idea that to be serious and dutiful you are supposed to suffer and toil in unpleasantness and sacrifice…but this is FALSE.”

(Did I mention this was ten days into the Wall Street protests? I suspected Venus was getting used to speaking her mind again.)

“This is why you are here, seeing all this tragedy,” she continued. “This disaster and pain you see, this is what the world is like without me. Without grace. Without beauty. Without balance and money and love and pleasure. Do not discount me. You have disrespected me for years thinking I am frivolous, and as a result you have hesitated to commit to working with me. I am your path. Enough is enough. This I guarantee you won’t forget. Now get your ass to work.”

Humbled and somewhat terrified, I have complied.  And my Mysterious Artemis blog was born.

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“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

– Steve Jobs’ Stanford Commencement Address

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