All in the service of Eros’ radiant Daughter

So I’ve been doing things lately. Things that I have been wanting to do for some years now, but for reasons never went forth to do. Some of it was environmental depression, some of it was inertia, some of it was a touch of fear that i couldn’t, or perhaps shouldn’t.

One item is something that I’ve actually had planned out in my head for about ten years, but for reasons, never thought I could ever do, or should ever do until I moved back to the area and got the “go ahead” from Hedone. I’m currently hoping to raise funds for a quarterly event called The Tomb. I’m mentioning this here for two reasons: First, I’ve only got about a month left to raise the bare minimum of money needed, and two, if this event can take off, I will begin each night with a libation to Nyx and Hedone, seasonal deities, and local spirits and local heroes and ancestors.

I’m also now officially volunteering at the local Ann Arbor “uni station”, WCBN. It’s one of less than a dozen truly free-form radio stations left in the United States. The volunteer position I signed up for will eventually get me an on-air slot, probably very late at night, to start, and it’s encouraged that my demo tape (which has to be done on a compact audio casette —it’s *that* old-school) be as unstructured as possible, with a healthy selection from the WCBN library. I’m planning, once i get on the air, of letting Apollon guide my selections for the block. As I’ve wanted to do this for at least the last six or seven years, I’m also making an offering of incense to Hedone before i go to volunteer my time at WCBN.

(As an aside, especially if you haven’t clicked on the link to WCBN’s official site, yet, you can listen online, and if you have an Android phone, they also have a free app to listen.)

Things have also mostly settled down after the move and I can finally schedule in time for writing and painting and even music!

Also, i know I’ve been going on about it for some time now, but tomorrow I’m going to set aside some time to post all the art I have for sale, and maybe later in the week I can go through some ritual items and see what I want or need to sell and what I want or need to keep, and get those things up, too. I haven’t accumulated much, mostly cos money, but I have reached a point where I might have more than I need right now.

Off to go do my weekly 90 minutes of work! Whee!

About Ruadhán McElroy

Ruadhán has been a traditional Hellenic polytheist for about a decade, and has also maintained devotions to Eros and Apollon most of that time; his status as a devotee of Nyx is more recent. He also paints, makes music, makes jewellery, and writes novels set in the Mod Revival (UK) and Swampie (Oz) subcultures of the 1980s. He also gets a lot of odd little experiences that he jokes will forever render him an insufferable Goth.

Eros and Psykhe in song

Mortals hubristicly compare Psyke to a beauty greater than Aphrodite

Aphrodite orders Eros to curse Psykhe’s affections

Eros cannot shoot Psykhe

Zephyros takes Psykhe to Eros crystal castle

Psykhe’s first night with her unseen husband

Psykhe’s sisters cast a seed of mistrust

Psykhe plots to see her husband

Psyke sees

The oil scorches Eros’ flesh

Psykhe cast out:

Psykhe’s trials

Redemption

Apotheosis

Hedone

(selections made more on overall feeling than necessarily lyrical content)


while I have your attention: Were you aware that I only have $170 to go to meet my goal in fundraising for moving next week? I have less than a week to go! I pick up my key on Monday and haul my stuff to Ypsilanti on Wednesday!

About Ruadhán McElroy

Ruadhán has been a traditional Hellenic polytheist for about a decade, and has also maintained devotions to Eros and Apollon most of that time; his status as a devotee of Nyx is more recent. He also paints, makes music, makes jewellery, and writes novels set in the Mod Revival (UK) and Swampie (Oz) subcultures of the 1980s. He also gets a lot of odd little experiences that he jokes will forever render him an insufferable Goth.

Follow every wave that traces my name

luna-moth-eye

I can hear the wild waves break
This island of bone
Below the swell the stars are waking
No matter how much I shake
i’m gonna find home
Though I’ve been overtaken
By the tides of the moon
I’m swimming against
The tides of moon
You’ll hear from me yet
I’ll get to you soon

Savage cities on my trail
Won’t leave me alone
Terrorize the song I’m veiling
Even though my arms are frail
I’m gonna find home
You know my faith ain’t failing
‘Lo the tides of moon
I’m swimming against
The tides of moon
I’ll get to you yet
You’ll hear from me soon

Follow every wave that traces my name
You know
That I have been detained
And I feel I could die

Swimming against
The tides of moon
You’ll hear from me yet
I’ll get to you soon
Swimming against
The tides of moon
You’ll hear from me yet
I’ll get to you
Get to you, oh…

About Ruadhán McElroy

Ruadhán has been a traditional Hellenic polytheist for about a decade, and has also maintained devotions to Eros and Apollon most of that time; his status as a devotee of Nyx is more recent. He also paints, makes music, makes jewellery, and writes novels set in the Mod Revival (UK) and Swampie (Oz) subcultures of the 1980s. He also gets a lot of odd little experiences that he jokes will forever render him an insufferable Goth.

You look like a lady….

Adonis and Phoenix, 2006, Ruadhán J McElroy

Adonis and Phoenix, 2006, Ruadhán J McElroy

Ptolemy Hephaestion, New History Book 5 (summary from Photius, Myriobiblon 190) :
“Adonis, having become androgynous, behaved as a man for Aphrodite and as a woman for Apollon.”

My head is bad(?) my mind’s all through
Ain’t been so stoned since i was new
The streets are cold the people are too
Ah but you look like a lady, let me sing my songs to you

can’t find a place to lay me down
can’t find a face without a frown
can’t find a hand i can hold to
ah but you look like a lady, let me sing my songs to you

there is no love that i can find
there are no friends to share my wine
tomorrow’s dead and yesterday too
but you look like a lady let me sing my songs to you

if i could live my life again
a yellow bird i would have been
flying high and flying true
ah but you look like a lady let me sing my songs to you

About Ruadhán McElroy

Ruadhán has been a traditional Hellenic polytheist for about a decade, and has also maintained devotions to Eros and Apollon most of that time; his status as a devotee of Nyx is more recent. He also paints, makes music, makes jewellery, and writes novels set in the Mod Revival (UK) and Swampie (Oz) subcultures of the 1980s. He also gets a lot of odd little experiences that he jokes will forever render him an insufferable Goth.

pleasure and pain

A guiding light in a dark forest Is leading me to the edge of time
As I slept for a while in the heart of the forest
I saw a dream, just a vision
I saw
Fairies dancing round the fire
Figures running on the snow
I dreamed of peace, love, equality
I saw a woman in black that she woke me up from my dreaming
Winter waltz
Let’s dance on fire and ice
Winter waltz
Our glorious world is just a disguise

A silent night in a wild beast-city
The beggar dreamed of a better new life
As the soft white snow covered his body
He saw a dream with no end
Fairies dancing round the fire
Figures running on the snow
He dreamed of peace, love, equality
The snow was covering him up and he never woke up from his dreaming
Winter waltz
Let’s dance on fire and ice
Winter waltz
Our glorious world is just a disguise
Winter waltz
Let’s dance on fire and ice
Winter waltz
Our glorious world is just a disguise

About Ruadhán McElroy

Ruadhán has been a traditional Hellenic polytheist for about a decade, and has also maintained devotions to Eros and Apollon most of that time; his status as a devotee of Nyx is more recent. He also paints, makes music, makes jewellery, and writes novels set in the Mod Revival (UK) and Swampie (Oz) subcultures of the 1980s. He also gets a lot of odd little experiences that he jokes will forever render him an insufferable Goth.

Eros Skhetlios

About Ruadhán McElroy

Ruadhán has been a traditional Hellenic polytheist for about a decade, and has also maintained devotions to Eros and Apollon most of that time; his status as a devotee of Nyx is more recent. He also paints, makes music, makes jewellery, and writes novels set in the Mod Revival (UK) and Swampie (Oz) subcultures of the 1980s. He also gets a lot of odd little experiences that he jokes will forever render him an insufferable Goth.

[PBP2013] Lost in Translation: L’amour est bleu

L’amour est bleu
Doux, doux, l’amour est doux
Douce est ma vie, ma vie dans tes bras
Doux, doux, l’amour est doux
Douce est ma vie, ma vie près de toi

Bleu, bleu, l’amour est bleu
Berce mon cœur, mon cœur amoureux
Bleu, bleu, l’amour est bleu
Bleu comme le ciel qui joue dans tes yeux

Comme l’eau, comme l’eau qui court
Moi, mon cœur court après ton amour

Gris, gris, l’amour est gris
Pleure mon cœur lorsque tu t’en vas
Gris, gris, le ciel est gris
Tombe la pluie quand tu n’es plus là

Le vent, le vent gémit
Pleure le vent lorsque tu t’en vas
Le vent, le vent maudit
Pleure mon cœur quand tu n’es plus là

Comme l’eau, comme l’eau qui court
Moi, mon cœur court après ton amour

Bleu, bleu, l’amour est bleu
Le ciel est bleu lorsque tu reviens
Bleu, bleu, l’amour est bleu
L’amour est bleu quand tu prends ma main

Fou, fou, l’amour est fou
Fou comme toi et fou comme moi
Bleu, bleu, l’amour est bleu
L’amour est bleu quand je suis à toi

L’amour est bleu quand je suis à toi

Love is blue (translation)
Sweet, sweet, love is sweet
Sweet is my life, my life in your arms
Sweet, sweet, love is sweet
Sweet is my life, my life close to you

Blue, blue, love is blue
Cradle my heart, my loving heart
Blue, blue, love is blue
Blue like the sky which play in your eyes

Like the water, like the running water
Me, my heart runs after your love

Grey, grey, love is grey
My heart weeps since you went away
Grey, grey, the sky is grey
The rain falls when you’re not there anymore

The wind, the wind moans
The wind weeps since you went away
The wind, the cursed wind
My heart weeps when you’re not there anymore

Like the water, like the running water
Me, my heart runs after your love

Blue, blue, love is blue
The sky is blue when you return
Blue, blue, love is blue
Love is blue when you take my hand

Mad, mad, love is mad
Mad like you and mad like me
Blue, blue, love is blue
Love is blue when I am yours

Love is blue when I am yours


CONTRAST WITH

Blue, blue, my world is blue
Blue is my world since I’m without you
Gray, gray, my life is gray
Cold is my heart since you went away

Red, red, my eyes are red
Crying for you alone in my bed
Green, green, my jealous heart I
doubted you and now we’re apart

How the bright sun shone
Then love died
Now the rainbow is gone
Black, black, the nights I’ve known
Longing for you, so lost and alone
Gone, gone, the love we knew
Blue is my world since I’m without you


This is also an allegory for how the original language is necessary to a complete understanding.

About Ruadhán McElroy

Ruadhán has been a traditional Hellenic polytheist for about a decade, and has also maintained devotions to Eros and Apollon most of that time; his status as a devotee of Nyx is more recent. He also paints, makes music, makes jewellery, and writes novels set in the Mod Revival (UK) and Swampie (Oz) subcultures of the 1980s. He also gets a lot of odd little experiences that he jokes will forever render him an insufferable Goth.

The Moisai and My Creative Process

I’m a creative person, as I’m sure several people who read this already know. I’ve made music, I’ve painted, I’ve written both poetry and fiction, and I will continue to do all of that in the very near and long projected future, if I have anything to say about it.

I’m still not very sure how this works for me: Do the Moisai whisper me directly, or send spirits? Do They break out Their Holiest Hand-Puppets and put on a show for me? and then I’m compelled to writ it out? Maybe a mix of things, depending on what I’m doing. For the purposes of this article, I’m going to go with the latter assumption than any former assumption; it just makes sense.

When I’m making music, I just let the Moisa take over. Whether it’s completely improvised (like with “music for Un Chien Andalou) or carefully crafted with guided intentions (like with any of the bands I’ve been in), I surrender. Music, any music, is sacred to me in that way. It’s best approached, as a musician, by letting the Moisa take over, letting Apollon conduct the instrument that is that sacred orchestra of Their voices and Their hands on instruments, and letting myself become a vessel for that din glorious. Considering the music that I’ve earned a few listens on Last.FM for, or even my approach to performing when I’ve been in a real band, I don’t know this austere, “classical music only” Apollon that the pagan community seems to have a raging boner for (I largely blame Nietzsche, and more importantly, Joseph Campbell’s and Isaac Bonewits’ citation of influence from Nietzsche), I know the real musician, the one consumed by His craft —and I’ve talked about this before— and I digress. My Moisa, the Moisai, She or They just take over when I’m doing music. I prefer not to negotiate the experience, and that may be one of the reasons I can be hard to work with in a band, but my favourite fellow musicians are also notorious “perfectionists” who demand that they craft under their preferred conditions, unwilling to compromise the integrity of the work in order to maintain a single line-up throughout their careers (except for Pete Townshend, but he’s kind of an anomaly to all this).

Picture 015When I paint, it starts with “the itch”. This isn’t a physical itching, but the Moisa itching at my brain, telling me to paint. I go to the store for a canvas, and look through them all —every single canvas, not just the variants in size— until I can see the painting. It’s somewhat literal, at times. My Hyakintos painting was detailed down to the tiniest detail; Eros I saw on the canvas only slightly different from how He ended up there, but those differences were guided as I painted. I’m sure I look half crazed looking at every blank canvas at Jo-Ann and Michael’s, sometimes more than once, looking for my painting before I’ve even painted it, but that’s just how it works out. I don’t allow myself much say in paintings, as far as composition of elements is concerned; I will negotiate colours, when I feel like it (that’s why my Hekate ends up coloured like The Afghan Girl, cos I’d been reading about that photograph earlier in the day and found it really striking, and wanted to pay subtle tribute), but for the most part, that’s it.

Writing poetry is Moisa-guided, but highly disciplined and I work a lot of it out, myself. I get flashes of imagery, and ideas of what to say, but how I say it, I work out on my own, and I can spend weeks on a few lines, coming back, even after i’ve written more, and tweak them just a bit at a time, for not only metre but nuance. It’s about saying the exact words I mean to say; this has also seeped into other writing I do, and why I can get so annoyed when people would rather argue with what they think I’m saying, and not what I actually said; I said it the way I did for a very good reason, so pay attention to that, and leave your assumptions out of it. Again, I digress….

Jace Hanvey and Henri

by Susie Beeca

My stories, my fiction, that’s where it can seem to get weird. It’s guided, but I treat each character as its own spirit; at some point in the writing, the character definitely feels like an entity outside myself, that I can sit down and talk to about what needs to go into the story and what can be saved for later. At some early, but not usually initial stage of writing that character, I get very clear mental images of how the character looks, and I don’t think these are people i’ve seen before; some faces, at best, are composites of many faces. Each “spirit” gives me the character’s birthday, and something of a family history, though sometimes details of that family will come later. As I write, I get to know each one, their hopes, their dreams, their favourite films and bands and books —sometimes things I’ve never read nor watched nor even really listened to, but I usually will shortly after learning this, just to get a better idea of who this character is. Sometimes personalities are clearly things that were born of certain elements of myself, but to write the characters best, I have to behave as if this character’s “spirit” is no longer simply an aspect of myself with other interesting things thrown in, that whether it’s a unique spirit, or some puppet show of the Moisai orchestrated to make me a better writer, I neither know nor care, cos at this point, it’s clear to me that this is simply how I have to treat the character to write about them.

This, obviously, is where I have some sympathy of the “pop culture pagans”, cos really, at some point, it sure as hell feels like I’m writing about things I have little say in, that these characters develop something of their own spirit outside myself, cos to best write about them, I have to treat them like that. Sometimes I can try like hell to call them up, and they won’t show up until I’m in the shower or out for breakfast with friends, or otherwise doing something where it’s too inconvenient to write. On the other hand, I gotta side with Alan Moore about the “gods or superheroes” topic, cos well, for starters, look at him, would you argue with Alan Moore?

alan-moore1

…and secondly, and most importantly, it’s most-like the conclusion I’ve come to, myself, after years of experience. Fiction can very well create entities that are greater than the work of fiction itself, but then there are “entities” created by fiction that exist only to make money for big corporations that exist for making money. And there is a BIG difference between an entity worthy of worship and an entity that exists only as much as Capitalism wants it to. I don’t know if Jace Hanvey is some new god in his infancy, or if he’s just a spirit that manifested from some writing I felt compelled to do, or if his existence is, literally, some metaphysical hand-puppet of the Moisai, but I know I’m supposed to tell his story as it’s been told to me. And i have to tell Henri’s. And Dougan’s. And Pyee’s. And Dubhan’s. And all these other characters that I feel compelled to write about.

About Ruadhán McElroy

Ruadhán has been a traditional Hellenic polytheist for about a decade, and has also maintained devotions to Eros and Apollon most of that time; his status as a devotee of Nyx is more recent. He also paints, makes music, makes jewellery, and writes novels set in the Mod Revival (UK) and Swampie (Oz) subcultures of the 1980s. He also gets a lot of odd little experiences that he jokes will forever render him an insufferable Goth.

And now for a bit of fluff….

Am I the only one who’s noticed this?

Galina Krasskova

Galina Krasskova

Laurie Anderson

Laurie Anderson

I’m not just thinking the hair, either, but come on, that’s the most prominent thing I’m talking about.

But while I have you here:

About Ruadhán McElroy

Ruadhán has been a traditional Hellenic polytheist for about a decade, and has also maintained devotions to Eros and Apollon most of that time; his status as a devotee of Nyx is more recent. He also paints, makes music, makes jewellery, and writes novels set in the Mod Revival (UK) and Swampie (Oz) subcultures of the 1980s. He also gets a lot of odd little experiences that he jokes will forever render him an insufferable Goth.

The Planets

I found this BBC performance on YouTube, and had to compile a playlist to share. I would really love to see this danced by Isadora Duncan, too.

About Ruadhán McElroy

Ruadhán has been a traditional Hellenic polytheist for about a decade, and has also maintained devotions to Eros and Apollon most of that time; his status as a devotee of Nyx is more recent. He also paints, makes music, makes jewellery, and writes novels set in the Mod Revival (UK) and Swampie (Oz) subcultures of the 1980s. He also gets a lot of odd little experiences that he jokes will forever render him an insufferable Goth.