alilaro:

oh to be stolen away in the dead of night by a mysterious ancient entity

watches-and-windchimes:

Just to be clear:

My advocacy for the preservation of minority languages has nothing to do with the fact that they are interesting/fascinating/any other adjective of that nature

Minority languages deserve protection because they are important, and they are valuable

The worth of a minority language is not determined by the entertainment it can provide to outsiders

While I believe that all languages are beautiful and unique, it shouldn’t matter that a language is ugly, or boring or “useless”

Yes, Celtic folk music is beautiful, but that is not the reason for preserving Celtic languages

fhtagn-and-tentacles :

DEMON 

by Mark A. Nelson

Hello! I was having this concern for a bit and I don't know if you can help me to answer it, the muses (aka Melpomene, Thalia, and the rest) can appear in dreams (sleeping, meditating, or daydreaming) since lately I'm having these weird dreams about arts, science, and a woman. I have instantly thought about them but I don't know if it is possible. What do you think?

Have a good day/night?❤

I think it’s entirely possible. I am not Hellenic but of what I know of the Muses, they’re are muses. Historically people have found muse in dreams, daydreams, visions. A feminine personified figure of the arts visiting you in your dreams certainly sounds muselike! I say investigate this and if you’re wrong, well, then you know it’s not them, and you can look at other options!

flat-pumpkin:

Recently I painted a concentration of marine life in a light that makes them seem alien,eldritch,or like just funky.

I’ve always had an immense love and fascination for marine life but I never really knew why.Just the concept of life living and swimming in waters as of it were birds flying indefinitely was strange.And the fact that we’re were much more to it than just “fish” was so extraordinary

On my Instagram I provided “in-the-field descriptions” as if they were real.I gave absurd fictional logs on the way they swim or how absurd they are for hunting food.Sure I exaggerated: angler fish using sounds,squids having exoskeletons.But I wanted to present how bizarre marine life is even if you leveled it back with regular oceanic fauna.

Originally I made them for room decor so I gave them a punk collage look but I ran out of glue lol.Ok end of posts it’s starting to lag.

primaveravenus :

“Devouring God: Cannibalism, Mysticism, and Ethics in Simone Weil” by Alec Irwin, quoting La Connaissance Surnaturelle by Simone Weil

words-and-coffee :

“we eat each other’s words, hearts, what’s the difference?”

— margaret atwood, ‘two-headed poems’

givemearmstopraywith:

every day i wake up and drink my silly little coffee while God eats my heart like a pomegranate in front of me

a-krogan-skald-and-bearsark:

ayeforscotland:

The Tories now going full on anti-Gaelic.

Educate yourself on their arguments, and learn how to counter them.

I fail to see how bilingualism is an academic failing.

rotmance :

hey, so. i made a quiz that’s probably niche and hyperspecific to my interests but. i promise it’s fun, okay

anyway, allow me to assign you one of my favourite mythological ‘tropes’ in this short quiz!

(i know mythology doesn’t have tropes but i couldn’t think of a better word.)

12 results, including:

1. world-bearing cosmic turtle
2. guy who gifts humanity and gets punished for it
3. monster’s even more scary mother
4. a beast with hidden legendary wisdom
5. heroic horse who is king over other horses
6. lady descending to underworld
7. shape shifter who isn’t exactly evil but causes a lot of mischief
8. king asleep in mountain till needed
9. primeval sentient abyss of ocean/space/creation
10. extremely hot extremely idiotic hero
11. benevolent luck-giving animal whom nobody can find
12. the vegetable lamb of tartary (which is not a trope but it’s epic and needed to be included)

ltwilliammowett:

Ring with a carved ivory sailing ship against a blue background’ under glass and with a gold rim, late 18th century

sgribhisg :

Gaelic singer has joined forces with a Scottish charity to encourage Gaelic conversation, reading and creative writing via Zoom

Kathleen MacInnes, traditional singer and champion of the Gaelic language, is joining poets, academics and a bookshop owner in using online communications to nurture one of Europe’s oldest languages.

Lockdown is feared to have had a damaging effect on the language as speakers, who are widely dispersed in many areas, have been less able to meet and talk.

Some of Gaelic’s remaining strongholds in Highland and island communities that have experienced other severe pressures during the pandemic due to their fragile economies.

Open Book, a Scottish charity that runs more than 70 English language and a Scots groups for shared reading and creative writing, is now aiming to amplify Gaelic voices and allow them to be heard.

Supported by £4,000 from Bòrd na Gàidhlig it is offering one monthly creative writing and four regular shared reading groups for anyone with an interest in Gaelic, from beginners to native speakers.

Ms MacInnes who was raised in South Uist and is the Gaelic officer at Taigh Chearsabhagh Museum and Arts Centre on North Uist, is supporting a newly launched Zoom-based Gaelic shared reading group.

The next online Gaelic session will be held on April 21.

She said: “I was lucky, it was the language of the playground and my home when I was growing up and I was surrounded by Gaelic culture. I love the language very much, whether it’s speaking, reading or singing. It’s a beautiful language and it takes me into another world.

“The feedback I’ve had about the idea has been very enthusiastic. I think people who have the same passion that I have will really enjoy the sessions.

“And it doesn’t matter whether they are beginners or fluent, they will be warmly welcome. And the wonderful thing about doing it online is that it doesn’t matter where in the world they are.”

Andrew Wilson, the proprietor of Wigtown’s Beltie Books, will be the lead reader for another shared reading group, and hopes it will be a digital link for far-flung Gaelic speakers.

He said: “There aren’t many Gaelic speakers in Dumfries and Galloway, they are quite isolated from one another, and it’s been very difficult to meet and speak Gaelic over the past year. When I heard about this it seemed blindingly obvious that it was a brilliant idea – you can have someone in Langholm chatting with someone in Stranraer and they don’t have to leave their homes and drive for hours to meet.”

Mr Wilson is a former council Gaelic development worker who learned the language over the last 25 years, wishing now he had studied it at University– nevertheless has fallen in love as much with the culture as the tongue.

He values the fact that Gaelic is Scotland’s oldest indigenous language and is linked to a rich tradition of music, song, literature and stories – and what he believes are a set of cultural values that put community, sharing, nature and the environment above individualism and materialism.

Heather Clyne, a Gaelic academic based near Inverness, has already successfully piloted Gaelic sessions for Open Book. She said: “To me it seems like a win-win – there are huge benefits in being bilingual, and knowing Gaelic helps you understand more about the country you live in.

“It’s a wonderful language – when I speak Gaelic, it does something to me, it is like when I am playing music with someone else. It’s like coming home. It’s like being in tune.”

Open Book was originally based round physical groups that met in libraries, care homes, community centres and a multitude of other settings. Covid–19 forced activities online, something it has now embraced.

When restrictions allow, it hopes that places like Uist, at the Taigh Chearsabhagh Museum & Arts Centre, and Dumfries and Galloway may be able to have groups that meet in person as well as in the virtual world.

Open Book was co-founded by Claire Urquhart and the poet Marjorie Lotfi as a gentle, fun and informal way to bring people together around reading and writing.

Unlike book clubs there is no homework or set reading. Reading groups meet up, share a text such as a short story, and use it as a way to spark conversation. The creative writing groups come together to talk about prose and poetry and to create their own work in response, in groups or individually.

Claire Urquhart, Open Book director and co-founder, said: “Our shared reading and creative writing models are ideally suited to support and promote Gaelic usage. They are a great way to share a love of the language, drawing out less confident participants and giving beginners more exposure to the language by providing an opportunity to read Gaelic texts aloud and discuss them in Gaelic.”

Three specific aims are to promote intergenerational transmission of Gaelic in the community, promote Gaelic in the home and support opportunities for adults to use and learn Gaelic.

Shona MacLennan, chief executive officer at Bòrd na Gàidhlig, said: “Bòrd na Gàidhlig are delighted to support this project which aims to strengthen Gaelic communities across the country and allow their voices to be heard. We look forward to seeing this project have a positive impact on communities, specifically in promoting the intergenerational transmission of the language.

“The projects also contributes significantly to the National Gaelic Language Plan’s main aim of increasing the use of Gaelic, by more people, in more situations, and also supports the learning of Gaelic in adults and in the home.

We wish Open Book every success with the project and look forward to seeing the growth of Gaelic speakers across the country.”

I’ve been trying to listen to mediation music to do some astral / aether work, and damn it – my monkey brain hears background beats and is like must move to drums. Either that or the work song rhythms of sea shanties are way more encoded into me than I thought.

@soft-bi-punk bless you and your notifications

ididnotknow :

Somewhere in America

voirlvmer :

“The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation. The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.”

— Kate Chopin, from The Awakening (via florizels )

linseedling :

Ever feel like you were born 541 million years too late?

howelljenkins :

lot of monarchy supporters operating on the assumption that the majority of the british royal family’s atrocities happened hundreds of years ago and to that i say open wikipedia

reiverreturns :

A friendly reminder that both the Irish potato famine and the Scottish highland clearances were little more than masked genocide in the name of the British crown that fundamentally changed the culture, language, politics, and wealth distribution of both countries in ways that can still be felt today. So I’m not saying Prince Philip was a terrible person but I am saying there’s a fucking reason why the Scots and Irish are probably digging out the good whisky tonight.

Prince Phillip was a terrible person and you should say it

wizardcreature:

yes babe your final form is so horrifying and uninterpretable by mortal eyes <3

derangedrhythms:

Margaret Atwood, Interlunar; from ‘Eurydice’

on divine consumption

a bit about godspousing and being devoured

dinchensart :

Most days I am quite fine. But some nights this abyss opens and devours me whole, keeping me locked away until I find my way back to the surface.

follow me on twitter

on divine consumption

on divine consumption

a bit about godspousing and being devoured

delphes :

American Photographer, Joel Bissel, took stunning pictures of the frozen Michigan Lake in Chicago, covered by ice scales (x)

nelyafinwe:

headspace-hotel:

The four seasons: hot girl summer, scary woman winter, weird lady spring and goth bitch autumn

huge vivaldi energy in this post

gnostick:

The human body already hovers on the edge of monstrosity. After all, the difference between the ‘human’ and the anthropophague can be one determinative bite.

Amanda Lehr, Sexing the Cannibal in The Wonders of the East and Beowulf

gwrach

guys, please, stop trivialising this word. reducing it to “homesick” takes away the colonial context of it and strips it of its culture and how we survived it, beyond all odds.

breelandwalker :

Friendly reminder to watch out for pigeonholes when researching deities.

I’ve been seeing a lot of posts going around that basically list out various deities under subject headings, a bit like correspondences. This can come off as a bit reductive, since there are few deities who have only ONE patronage, and may also present unintentionally incorrect information.

For instance, a goddess associated with protecting women during childbirth may be painted as a “mother” goddess simply because of an association with motherhood. And yes, there is a difference between a goddess who protects mothers and a goddess who IS a mother. Beyond that, the description leaves out the many other areas that said goddess may preside over.  (I see both of these with Brighid all the time.)

A further example might be a god with a famously identifying characteristic is associated with war and weather. If that’s the only thing that gets focused on, you might not know that the same deity presides over things like healing and protection of homesteads and travelers.

Be careful too that you recognize the difference between a female-presenting deity with multiple aspects and the Wiccan concept of the Triple Goddess. Not every goddess with more than one aspect can be equated with the Maiden-Mother-Crone model and the association should not be forced for the sake of some misguided idea of symmetry.

There’s also the issues of “solar” and “lunar” deities. A passing association with either the sun or the moon, or even day or night, may be enough to paint a deity as a “sun god” or a “moon goddess” when this is not strictly true. It’s important to remember that solar and lunar or day and night associations do not necessarily a heavenly body make. The same is true of seasonal or weather-related associations.

Finally - and this is a bit of a pet peeve - simplified lists run the risk of equating deities with components. We have lists of which plants, crystals, foods, or incenses to use for particular magical purposes, but deities are different. It’s one thing to call upon a deity because you have a need and you know that they could be inclined to help. It’s another thing entirely to call on a deity because you’re casting a love spell and you’ve just picked one at random because of a broad association. (Freyja’s a love goddess right?)

The point of all this is due diligence. If you’re going to work with deities, whether casually or in a more committed sense, you need to do your homework. Learn about their stories, their culture of origin, and ALL of their aspects, not just the simple summaries. Lists can be helpful starting points, but don’t let yourself fall into the trap of oversimplification. 

And despite the impression that certain social media platforms may give you, deities are not memes or trendy collectibles or your divine BFFs. For best results, always approach your requests from a place of respect and gratitude. You don’t necessarily need to bow and scrape. Just remember To Whom You Speak. Be polite and go from there.

Happy Witching!

the-swamprat :

Sometimes a Wild God

Sometimes a wild god comes to the table.
He is awkward and does not know the ways
Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver.
His voice makes vinegar from wine.
When the wild god arrives at the door,
You will probably fear him.
He reminds you of something dark
That you might have dreamt,
Or the secret you do not wish to be shared.

He will not ring the doorbell;
Instead he scrapes with his fingers
Leaving blood on the paintwork,
Though primroses grow
In circles round his feet.

You do not want to let him in.
You are very busy.
It is late, or early, and besides…
You cannot look at him straight
Because he makes you want to cry.

The dog barks.
The wild god smiles,
Holds out his hand.
The dog licks his wounds
And leads him inside.

The wild god stands in your kitchen.
Ivy is taking over your sideboard;
Mistletoe has moved into the lampshades
And wrens have begun to sing
An old song in the mouth of your kettle.

‘I haven’t much,’ you say
And give him the worst of your food.
He sits at the table, bleeding.
He coughs up foxes.
There are otters in his eyes.

When your wife calls down,
You close the door and
Tell her it’s fine.
You will not let her see
The strange guest at your table.

The wild god asks for whiskey
And you pour a glass for him,
Then a glass for yourself.
Three snakes are beginning to nest
In your voicebox. You cough.

Oh, limitless space.
Oh, eternal mystery.
Oh, endless cycles of death and birth.
Oh, miracle of life.
Oh, the wondrous dance of it all.

You cough again,
Expectorate the snakes and
Water down the whiskey,
Wondering how you got so old
And where your passion went.

The wild god reaches into a bag
Made of moles and nightingale-skin.
He pulls out a two-reeded pipe,
Raises an eyebrow
And all the birds begin to sing.

The fox leaps into your eyes.
Otters rush from the darkness.
The snakes pour through your body.
Your dog howls and upstairs
Your wife both exults and weeps at once.

The wild god dances with your dog.
You dance with the sparrows.
A white stag pulls up a stool
And bellows hymns to enchantments.
A pelican leaps from chair to chair.

In the distance, warriors pour from their tombs.
Ancient gold grows like grass in the fields.
Everyone dreams the words to long-forgotten songs.
The hills echo and the grey stones ring
With laughter and madness and pain.

In the middle of the dance,
The house takes off from the ground.
Clouds climb through the windows;
Lightning pounds its fists on the table.
The moon leans in through the window.

The wild god points to your side.
You are bleeding heavily.
You have been bleeding for a long time,
Possibly since you were born.
There is a bear in the wound.

‘Why did you leave me to die?’
Asks the wild god and you say:
‘I was busy surviving.
The shops were all closed;
I didn’t know how. I’m sorry.’

Listen to them:

The fox in your neck and
The snakes in your arms and
The wren and the sparrow and the deer…
The great un-nameable beasts
In your liver and your kidneys and your heart…

There is a symphony of howling.
A cacophony of dissent.
The wild god nods his head and
You wake on the floor holding a knife,
A bottle and a handful of black fur.

Your dog is asleep on the table.
Your wife is stirring, far above.
Your cheeks are wet with tears;
Your mouth aches from laughter or shouting.
A black bear is sitting by the fire.

Sometimes a wild god comes to the table.
He is awkward and does not know the ways
Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver.
His voice makes vinegar from wine
And brings the dead to life.