where i find my modern gods

Morpheus is in the legs that fall asleep and the eyes you can’t keep open, and the endless cups off coffee that didn’t work, caffeine immunity creeping in. He’s the sand in your eyes the day after an allnighter, coaxing you to pause, letting you know the world can wait a few hours. In the vivid daydreams and dizzy thoughts that conjure themselves into vision even when you don’t close your eyes. He’s the sudden smells that take you back a decade and are gone as quickly as they come.

Hades stands not in graveyards but on every corner and every bridge. He crosses the street with you as you contemplate the oncoming cars. Dutiful accountant, he knows your name, and it waits on his tongue. He’s not there to rush you, nor help you. Perhaps his presence is enough. Even in ideation, Hades is in cold fingers and forgotten teas, crumbled leaves that tell you he’s taken her away again. He’s in the rinds of fruit and discarded husks, the plucked leaves, the end, always waiting at the core of everything.

Persephone is in the fresh fruit, ripe and ready to burst, eating them, destroying them feels like a sin, like delicious betrayal. She’s the first sharp bite and the way the juice rolls down your chin, in the decisions you hold steadfastly onto. she’s in defiant stares and the way you walk in like you own the place, because as long as she’s by your side, you do. When people whisper your name and pretend they don’t see you, she’s there, by your side, lifting your chin. Fear may also be hate, but it is also fear, and that is your power.

Aphrodite is in the crisp line of lipstick, and the boldness of a sharp cateye, but also the next day when it’s smeared and freckled with chipped mascara, the glance in the mirror when you see yourself like this and shrug, ‘not so bad’. She’s in the burst of warmth and weak you feel when you watch a child laugh with its grandmother. She’s there in that moment you fit into those jeans, she’s there when you slip into sweatpants and have a second slice of cake. When you shit talk your ex she’s there, nodding and making sure you know he was no good for you.

Dionysus walks in when your friends do, carrying his revelry on their shoulders. With a bottle of champagne, -a treat-, he's not so much in drinking it as he is shaking it up and popping the cork, the laughter and the mess that ensues, the sticky fingers that last the night. He’s there in the morning next as well, surveying the damage and grinning like a king when you scrape chips off the couch.


Gucci’s “The Myth of Orpheus and Eurydice” is a four-part series of short films shot in New York. Gia Coppola casts a contemporary lens over the Greek legend, starring the ill-fated lovers and the Pre-Fall 2016 collection. Pictures by Dan Regan.

According to the ancient tale, talented musician Orpheus descends to the underworld to retrieve his newlywed wife Eurydice, who steps on a poisonous snake and dies. Moved by Orpheus’ music, Hades & Persephone, rulers of the afterlife, allow him to take Eurydice back under one condition. Eurydice is to follow Orpheus while walking out to the light, but he can’t look back otherwise she will return to the land of the dead forever.

Let’s write the story of how an immortal falls in love with a mortal.
We pretend to be like gods at the edge of the earth, where the heavens shrink between the palms of our hands.

The story where one is a poet and sees the goddess and the woman and knows the woman is more important.

In this story the bravery is not in the journey to hell, but in between the sheets of a Sunday morning when silence is the only conversation they need and the prayers they utter to the heavens to be kind.

But, when gods see beauty, they immediately tear it down,
  And as Orpheus plays the final notes of their goodbye Persephone takes Eurydice into her arms.
Death becomes so much sweeter from her lips.

“You will endure.” is faint whispers and nimble fingers through her hair.
How Hell becomes Paradise.
How she waits for death to reunite when in life they were apart.

A love that travels to hell is one for legends; it’s one worth waiting for.
—  and Eurydice has love found in darkness to help her pass the time // L.H.Z