religious mythology


1) Nefertari holding out her sekhem-sceptre presenting offerings in front of the God Atum.
2) Nephthys and Isis stand either side of a ram-headed God painted green like Osiris, hieroglyphs write “Osiris rests in Ra” (left) “Ra rests in Osiris”. Beyond the yellow division Nefertari stands looking to the left with her hands held out.

Tomb of Nefertari, Valley of the Queens, QV66, Luxor, Egypt.
Photograph by kairoinfo4u | flickr


I’ll wear my serpent printed dress,

The one that caresses each curve

And recalls the chthonic

Creative essence of the earth.

Can I persuade you that love

Is good? I will draw myself

In lines you expect to embrace,

Wind between truth and myth

Until you take my hand.

I will play goddess and succubus,

Angel and animal, shed my skin

And emerge reborn until l outlive

Every construct you believe,

Until you only see a woman,

Only me.

- Grace Babcock © 2017


Abbott Handerson Thayer (1849–1921, United States)

Angel paintings

Thayer was an American artist and naturalist. A painter of portraits, figures, animals and landscapes, he is best known for his paintings of angels and other mystical subjects. He enjoyed a certain prominence during his lifetime, and his paintings are represented in the major American art collections. He is also known for his work in the field of protective colouration in nature, showing how patterns on animals and insects provided a camouflaging effect.

If my body is a temple, why the fuck am I letting you desecrate it? I’ll curse you between half-swigs of whiskey, this bloodlust soothes my curdled veins. There is barbed wire in these words. There are land mines between your feet.  This ribcage is my war wager, this flesh is my battle ground. I’ll burn it all down before I let you in.

Who do you think you fucking are to come to my altar, and demand something from me? I’ll speak in tongues, turn this scepter to a sword, this crown a noose, this robe a shield. These words are my gospel, and I’ll write them in your spilled blood. I will raise my celestial army from my blood, tears, sweat, flesh, I’ll raise my army from the dead.

What is your book? What do you have to back up your holy words? You cannot charm me with those lidded eyes, and those damned hands that fold in prayer. You are a murderer, a thief in a stolen abode; you lie, you disguise. You are a fire that shouldn’t burn, an ocean that won’t rage, a field that wouldn’t grow, a bird who couldn’t sing. You metamorphose and your bones crack shotgun to your ribs.

Where is your gold? What do you think you have that I don’t? I have created heaven from my garden, organic from the inorganic. I have reaped miracle after miracle. I sit upon a throne and my libraries span centuries. I have been to every corner of this globe, feasted in untold galaxies. I have met with God, and whispered his true name. I have seen what is beyond, but all you have to offer me is this worthless prayer.

Why won’t you give the fuck up? This is a war, and I am a forest fire. Rage splinters in the cracks between these bones. I conjure sandstorms with blind eyes. I damn you in my inferno. I am white hot supernova. Yet you await on my doorstep, a patient smile and steady hands. I am the storm that will bring down your church, break your pews. I am the congregation who sings a siren song.

Why will you not bow to my divine presence? I’Il kill your bloodline, tear their hearts out barehanded, neck deep in aortic blood, viscera in my teeth, yet you’d still smile. I am a monster, I am risen from the depths, I am what the greek gods feared. I am what demands, I am what invites. What makes you think you can do either?

Why do you love me despite all the bloodshed I’ve caused? You lay flowers at my doorstep everyday, you bend your knees to God everyday, praying for my salvation. I should be the only one to make you fall. I should be the only one to make you bleed. I hate how you adore me, but I hate it more when you don’t.

Why do you ask of God, when I am here, I am goddess? Why do you decorate my temple, disgrace it with your holy words but then turn to another? You are the only who has worshipped me in centuries. I ignored your prayers. I threatened you. I drove you away. I really just wanted you to stay. I am a bittersweet goddess, I know no love but war.

Why won’t you let me lay in my rage? Why do you love me even though I killed you inside, when I jerked that wheel? You came to my temple, for weeks, months, days after. I saw you on that rarely traveled road. I saw a mortal soul, and it was something I wanted so much that I didn’t understand. You thought I saved you. I healed you on that dirt road, after the thunderstorm brought trees down onto you. You thought you were going to fall into an early grave, did you not know I did that? I am broken and angry. I was weak, I let you live, and now you haunt me.

Why do you make me remember that I am immortal, but you are mortal and your devotion is gone? Why did I let myself love you? You are all ephemeral, wanting creatures that change with the wind. You are nothing in my presence, but you make me feel everything  I am a lonely goddess. My body is temple and I am chained to it. A broken headstone in a forgotten field. If my body is a temple, why the fuck did I desecrate it?

—  I didn’t try to kill you so you would love me, I tried to kill you so I could hate myself a little less.
Offerings Ideas for Artemis



  • Jerky - Deer in particular 
  • Moon Pies
  • Milk - Both Cow and Breast 
  • Red Wine (HERE is my alternatives for Red Wine)
  • Whiskey 
  • Honey Grahams/ Graham Crackers
  • Girl Scout Cookies
  • Crackers 
  • Apple Juice
  • Peanut Butter
  • Olive Oil
  • Honey
  • Fruit Leather 
  • Trail Mix 
  • Crescent Rolls 
  • Peanut Butter and Honey Sandwiches
  • Oreos 
  • Pretzels
  • Apple Ale
  • S’mores - I think she’d even appreciate S’more Poptarts
  • Eggs - Quail, Chicken, Duck 
  • Salmon
  • Jam - Apricot, Strawberry, Cherry, Plum
  • Apple Butter
  • Sunflower Seeds 
  • Almonds
  • Garlic
  • Rosemary
  • Mint
  • Basil
  • Chili Powder
  • Cinnamon


  • Pine Cones
  • Pine Needles
  • Acorns
  • Feathers - Quail and Duck in particular 
  • Bones and Antlers - Deer and Fox in particular 
  • River Stones 
  • Orchids
  • Evening Primrose 
  • Baby’s Breath 
  • Daisies

ikariyuiofficial  asked:

hi violet, i noticed that you said you were interested in the academia of witchcraft so i was wondering if you knew any resources about the origins of meanings/associations for crystals? i see those posts being reblogged all the time about how x crystal means courage etc. and i would love to know more about how those meanings were originally recorded and created!

Crystal History

Hi! I’m glad you asked this, it’s quite an interesting topic.

The origins of crystal meanings is something that is quite difficult to trace. Why? because crystals have been used in most cultures across the world since the recorded beginning of mankind. Not only that, but different cultures gave them different associations at various different points in time. Ever wonder why almost every different crystal seems to be able to solve a large list of problems? Different cultures interpretations of their energy and meanings have all been compacted and combined into the crystal knowledge we have today. 

Our common consensus that X crystal means Y is made up of various different factors, some of this being; 

  • The homogenization of cultures as world trading became more accessible.
  • For lack of a better way to say it, basic human intuition. As spiritual beings we are all sensitive to the vibrations these objects give. It makes sense then, to think that different cultures across the world who had never been in contact, often drove the same conclusions about the same crystals. 
  • Religious and spiritual mythology! There are many myths and legends from hellenic, norse, native and many other belief systems involving gods creating crystals during some conflict, immortal beings gifting mankind crystals, etcetera. Crystals were very popular choices of methods to show devotion to certain gods. A common example; Dionysus and Amethyst.
  • Colour and shape association. We have conditioned ourselves through the imagery we recieve as we grow up to assign subconscious meaning to things. 
  • In the case of some crystals such as topaz, ruby, garnet, and others, jewellery companies were looking for an excuse to sell people fairly cheap gems and the whole “birthstone” phenomena was spawned, some stone meanings loosely based on some bible passages, most plucked out of thin air.

All in all there isn’t any one reason why we know these things. It’s a culmination of thousands of years of learning and using crystals. :)

Sources And Reference:

  1. Colour Psychology
  2. Early Historical Notes About Crystals
  3. A Brief History Of Crystals
  4. History Of Crystal Healing
  5. How Were Birthstones Chosen
  6. Crystal Healing In History
  7. Viking Navigation Stone
  8. Cassandra Eason’s Healing Crystals
  9. John Grant’s An Introduction To Viking Mythology
  10. Judy Hall’s The Encyclopedia Of Crystals
  11. Andreas Gurh and Jörg Nagler’s Crystal Power, Mythology and History

In honor of falling apart less,
and stitching myself up more.
In honor of the way you made me burn.
I present this poem,
a nuanced art of pretending everything is alright.

I washed my sins off in the shower last night,
I let the hot water scald your touch off my skin.
That was for you.

For myself,
I  drowned  in holy water,
as cold as the river stream,
baptized away unclean emotions.
I wish I was free, free, free.

My hair drips angel wings down my back.
My hair drips and I dissipate into porcelain,
my reflection melting and distorting in this steamed mirror,
I let myself whirl down the drain.
My hair drips, and with it my blood runs hot and cold.
My hair drips, and I let it drown me.

I turn off the lights,
and let my body lay,
feel how it feels,
how it moves,
how bones grind and muscles glide.
I let myself feel how I am inside.

It’s mechanical though,
because the emotion is too fluid to grasp,
and it slips through my fingers.
Like panning for gold, in a hot valley,
sun pounding down on your neck,
hours of searching, searching, searching.
You finally strike gold.
but river current strings of fate pull it away.
Your sweat rolls down your neck, and drips,
it wraps around you like a noose.

I fall back into bed,
let its arms enfold around me,
and wrap myself against it’s chest.

I wish I was divine,
I wish I sipped ambrosia, and nectar,
had casual conversations with the gods.
I wish I was so heavenly I brought him down on his knees.

I wish I was so heavenly I brought you down on your knees.

Instead, I dry myself off,
pretending the water on my face isn’t tears,
salt eroding my skin.

I take a deep breath, and
on my skin I draw a beautiful girl.

Who doesn’t know what heartbreak is,
who doesn’t hate herself when she wakes up everyday,
who doesn’t shake when she thinks of all that she fucked up.
Who doesn’t cry alone at night,
when the only one who can hear her is mother moon,
who is so far,
her glow doesn’t alight on mortals with broken eyes.
Who still somehow thinks they are holy,
Who still somehow thinks they are angel.

I draw a girl who doesn’t pretend she is okay.

I dress myself up,
I smile in the mirror and say
I am okay, I am free, and I can do whatever I want to,
I am free and I can do whatever I want to.
I am free… but I am not.
But I wish it was true.

My hair still drips down my skin,
It hasn’t dried after all this time.
I hide my wings under my shirt,
I hide my wings and it all hurts.

At the end of the the day
No matter how much I wish or pretend,
I dress myself down, and take it all off.

I am just a  mortal girl,
whose wings are just empty bones,
dark branches, ink bleeding into white snow.

I am just a girl.
I laugh in empty spaces,
I smile through the tears,
I love the way you make me burn.

I am just a girl but,
I cauterize my wounds,
I bless myself,
I heal under the moon.

I am just a girl
but I am holy and
I stitch myself up with shaking hands,
I burn to keep you near.

I am just a girl but
oh don’t you wish that you knew that I was so much more?

—  I loved you so I could hate myself a little less, it didn’t work, but that’s okay.
Enantiodromia: How a Type Becomes Its Opposite

“Enantiodromia” is a Greek word that means “a running counter to”. The philosopher Heraclitus used it to refer to the tendency of one thing to turn into its opposite. In Jung’s typology, in practice, it’s what we could call a change of attitude, or a reversal of type. This can happen in a number of ways and for a number of different reasons: But, in this article, we’ll focus on what happens when the unconscious personality (centred around the inferior function) invades and overturns the conscious one (centred around the dominant). This is not unlike “The Grip” of contemporary MBTI discussions: However, the way it progresses is a bit more elaborate. Essentially, Enantiodromia consists of A) overvaluing the dominant function and attitude – which I’ve called Hubris, a word meaning pride and defiance of the gods – followed by B) an overwhelming invasion of consciousness by the inferior function-attitude – which I’ve called Nemesis, meaning divine retribution.

Jung’s Enantiodromia focuses on a certain chronology, an order of events. It goes something like this:

  1. Development of a one-sided consciousness: the dominant function-attitude is overvalued, and everything else is suppressed.
  2. Strengthening of the inferior function-attitude in the unconscious: “As above, so below.”
  3. Inhibition of conscious performance by the inferior function-attitude.
  4. Total breakthrough: the inferior function-attitude overtakes consciousness, resulting in a kind of nervous breakdown.
  5. This violent psychological “coup” ideally rebalances the individual’s psyche.

In past ages, we believed that gods and angels would regularly interfere in our lives, or that demons would possess us against our conscious will. An uncharacteristic bout of rage was the work of Ares; hopelessly falling in love was the work of Aphrodite. Now, we call these things influences from the unconscious. With this in mind, we can make allegories for the process of Enantiodromia using elements of mythology and religious stories; wherein the divine principle, the deity, is the unconscious; and the heroic principle, the protagonist, is consciousness. Two stand out:

The first allegory is Hubris and Nemesis, terms from Greek tragedy. Hubris is the sin of pride in the face of the gods. The prime example is of Icarus flying too close to the sun, his brashness overcoming the warnings of his father Daedalus. The image of a falling angel might also remind us of Lucifer, cast down from heaven, also for the sin of Hubris or pride in the face of God. Nemesis is the divine retribution, the goddess whose whole purpose was to enact punishment on the people who succumbed to Hubris.

The second allegory is the Deluge. The Deluge is an almost universal myth, in which a god floods the earth and its people to purify it. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, this is the story of Noah’s Ark. Humanity is corrupt and has sinned against God, so He floods the earth. He uses Noah as a kind of hard reset: the image of the Ark making landfall at the tip of a mountain, surrounded by ocean, is representative of the new beginning of consciousness emerging from the turmoil of the unconscious.

The goal of this process is to regulate and rebalance the psyche. It can’t operate properly when it’s cut off from itself: when consciousness and unconsciousness stand in stark opposition. When the inferior function-attitude invades consciousness, it destabilises and tears down the one-sided attitude: eventually replacing it with a new conscious attitude that, ideally, is more open and receptive to compensation from the inferior functions.

I’d point you to my Jung Abridged series, where each type description includes a rough picture of what happens when the type succumbs to Hubris, and is subsequently overcome by Nemesis. However, I’ll also include a brief chart here:


Mesopotamian limestone amulet in the shape of a turtle, dated to the 3rd to 2nd millennium BCE.

From the source, Medusa Ancient Art:

Turtles and tortoises are incorporated into many religious traditions and mythologies throughout the Mediterranean world and ancient Egypt. In ancient Mesopotamia, the turtle was associated with the god Ea in Akkadian and Babylonian mythology, Enki in Sumerian mythology. He was originally patron god of the city of Eridu, but later the influence of his cult spread throughout Mesopotamia and to the Hittites and Hurrians. He was the deity of crafts, seawater, intelligence, and creation. Considered the master shaper of the world, god of wisdom and of all magic.

Problematic Fiction

Stories exist for entertainment, certainly, but they also exist as teaching tools. They have been used this way for thousands of years - from religious parables to ancient mythologies, the stories you hear at bedtime and the ones you read in English Lit classes. 

Stories deliver a moral message, and they are uniquely suited to it because they activate an empathetic response in our brains. For a little while, these fictional constructs become real people to us, and that allows us to live through them; and that activation of empathy is what makes it possible to internalize the messages and morals of the story in a way that simply being told how to think or behave would not. 

Fiction exists as a playground - a place to explore ideas and situations and work through them. They are, to an extent, therapeutic - both for the author and the reader. The author discovers something about him/herself in the process of writing; they identify their own values and insights and experiences in a way that was not clear before writing them down. The reader/viewer discovers connections to the wider world or their own experiences. 

These are essential functions of storytelling. This is why storytelling exists. 

There are moral messages in all stories. They’re called themes, and the exist in every story whether or not the author intends to put them there. Themes are the imposition of moral logic to events in a narrative. 

Themes emerge in the ways that characters are punished or rewarded for their choices. In the things characters struggle against and overcome or are defeated by. 

  • Does the hero kill the bad guy? (then sometimes killing is acceptable, if it’s to prevent greater harm)
  • Does the villain die by his own devices? (then evil will ultimately destroy itself)
  • Does the hero let the villain go, only for the villain to die in some ironic or accidental way? (then the world is just, and will balance its own cosmic scales)
  • Does the bad guy get away without consequences? (then the world is unjust) 
  • Does the bad guy see the error in his ways? (then evil can be redeemed)

You get the picture. 

But here’s the thing that’s important: All themes are valid. All of those things above are sometimes true. They are also, sometimes, false. That’s because life is a paradox; it’s full of things that are sometimes true, sometimes false, sometimes both at the same time. 

Fiction exists to tease out those inconsistencies. In any given story, one of those themes will be true. In another story, a different theme will be true. Both stories can (and do) describe the reality of the human experience. 

Complaining about problematic events or characters may be missing the point. Only themes can be problematic. Characters and plots are just tools for storytelling. The existence of a bad guy is not inherently problematic; what happens to that bad guy and the moral message those events portray may be.

Moreover: The themes of a particular story may or may not directly reflect the morality of the author. Sometimes, you write something with a particular theme simply because you want to see what the world might look like from that perspective. I think, as writers, we may often be drawn to doing precisely that because we have questions: Can evil be redeemed? Is murder ever justified? 

We’re asking questions, not making definitive statements. 

We’re authors, not oracles. We don’t have the answers to life’s greatest questions. We’re exploring possibilities, trying to figure out how this whole world works. 

So don’t malign people for this. Don’t say “Don’t explore these themes” or, god forbid, actively threaten people for exploring themes, even if they’re not themes that you agree with.

Discussing problematic themes is a worthwhile endeavor. Exploring why things are problematic, and how they are portrayed, and the way those things can relate back to the real world and our human experience - all of that is valuable. Discourse and analysis is good! Discussing these themes is how we grow and learn about ourselves and the world we occupy. 

Maligning authors - or insisting that certain topics be verboten - only leads to shallow thinking; it punishes soul-searching and critical thought; it gags authors and prevents them from revealing those facets of truth that stories might contain. 

After all: If there were no problematic fiction for us to analyze, how would we ever learn so much about our values, our culture, our place in the world? 

anonymous asked:

Question, do those pagan ritual photo things u reblogged count as cryptids????????

No. Cryptids are creatures whose existence has not been confirmed by science, but there is minor or anecdotal evidence that they might be out there. I personally do not think that supernatural, mythological, or religious creatures count as cryptids - belief in cryptids is rooted in witness testimony and rumor rather than cultural or spiritual tradition. It’s a really fuzzy line and there are exceptions that fall into both categories (ex. what might be a mythological creature in one culture exists as a cryptid in another). If it’s obviously a person wearing a costume for ritual purposes, it probably doesn’t count.


MYTHOLOGY MEME: [2/9] greek gods

Dionysus is the god of the grape harvest, winemaking and wine, of ritual madness, fertility, theatre and religious ecstasy in Greek mythology. He created wine and spread the art of viticulture. He had a dual nature; on one hand, he brought joy and divine ecstasy; or he would bring brutal and blinding rage, thus reflecting the dual nature of wine.

ἄλογος  “not to be spoken”

WEEK 2 [Day 5]

In Ancient Greeks, up until Greece fell to Rome, geometry was the main mathematical science. Scientists practiced geometry to explore the relationships among points, lines, angles, and shapes. 

Numbers was their religion, they thought of numbers as simple, pure and elegant. Therefore, they only believed in whole numbers (i.e, 6, 14, etc.) and ratios that are made up of whole numbers (i.e, 8/9, 2/3, etc.).  If a value wasn’t whole, or couldn’t be represented as a ratio of whole numbers, then it wasn’t a true number to them. 

Pointing out that geometry actually needed other kinds of numbers was a kind of blasphemy. Legend has it that a Mathematician named Hippasus was thrown from a ship, condemned to drown at the bottom of the sea, for having proved what was contrary to their belief: That numbers can be imperfect.

Later Greek scholars had to confront the reality of the faults in their beliefs. But rather than make room in their understanding for numbers that weren’t whole, or weren’t ratios of whole numbers, they instead decided that those numbers were “ἄλογος”, meaning both “not a ratio” and “not to be spoken.” 

The “not a number” fallacy prevented Greek algebraists of the time from advancing. For them, numbers had to be spoken, or at least written out. They followed the Pythagorean rule because they were fearful of joining Hippasus at the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea.

I used the cover of “The Web Design Book Volume 5″ for the shapes 


Religious Mythology by Tony
Via Flickr:
The Bénédictine Palace, was built in 1898 as a factory for the production of Bénédictine, a sweet alcohol flavoured drink. The palace is also home to the art collections of the Le Grand family, built up by Alexandre le Grand who developed the recipe for the liqueur Benedictine. The collection is large and includes books, painting, sculptures and even wrought ironwork. The Gothic room contains the library with over a thousand books, many of which came from Fécamp abbey.