A Taste of Winter on the Prairies

20161124_141031-2This morning I made a trip to visit a brother-in-law who lives about three hours from my home. I left in morning darkness and soon found myself travelling through low-lying fog with the temperature hovering around minus three degrees Celsius. I was worried about frost build up on the windshield, but was fortunate that the fog was more interested in sticking to trees and bushes. Naturally, I slowed down as I drove north.

20161124_124013The drive takes me past two First Nations Reserves, Red Pheasant and Mosquito. I decided to stop along the highway at the cemetery for the reserves to get this photo as I wanted to get a full winter scene without having to worry about serious cold conditions. The fog slowed down passing traffic which gave me ample time for the photo while my car was parked on the edge of the highway. I was surprised at how warm I felt while not wearing clothing.

After a good visit with my brother-in-law, it was time to drive back home with a care package of wild meat which I will be making into sausage once we return home from Mexico in the spring. I was surprised at how once I came close to the First Nations reserves on the way home, the heavy fog was still in place. I drove about eighty kilometres through the fog which disappeared near the town of Biggar.

The sun was making brief appearances so I stopped at the local campgrounds to get a few more photos. It has been a good day. There are some things about being a Canadian and winter that are priceless.

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Back Home

Inside the writer's den on a frosty morning.

Inside the writer’s den on a frosty morning.

It has been a couple of weeks since my last real post. I’ve been busy trying to write another novel, something that is having me rethink over and over again what the novel is supposed to be saying. It’s as if the story has a mind of its own and is getting fractions every time I decide to try and control the story line or the characters within the story. At least I don’t have to worry about writer’s block.

Grilled cheese sandwich in the making.

Grilled cheese sandwich in the making.

I have visited two different book stores in the past two weekends in order to sell my books. Both events were what the stores and I have called successful sales events. I sold thirty-two books in these two stores which means that I am getting closer to turning a profit. I am already planning for more book signing events for next spring. For the time from now until then, I will continue to write, re-write, and edit.

November hasn’t been all about writing as I visited the homes of two of my children and a brother-in-law which used up a full week of the month with no extended writing during that week. I even had a day or two with no writing done at all. Now, I am back at writing the novel and preparing for our trip to Mexico.

We leave in three weeks time for the Mayan Riviera where we will return to the place we have stayed in for the past few years. We typically stay for three months so that we avoid the worst of winter.

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Rebirthing The Powers Within

Se Cathedral

Se Cathedral

“We need to go to the Cathedral. There is a portal there that will bring a few others of the Sidhe who are waiting to do a laying on hands ceremony that will draw out what has been blocked out by your violent deaths and rebirth. When that is accomplished, then it up to us, the four of us, well five counting Fred, to return to the Camino tomorrow. I’m suggesting that we travel straight to Santarem on tonight’s train and prepare for whatever it is that lies in wait between Santarem and Azinhaga.”

“What if we don’t go to Azinhaga?” Angel wondered, “Wouldn’t it be smarter to simply avoid going there?”

“Not really,” Brigit answered. “The first thing they will do is to cause chaos in Azinhaga including many deaths if we aren’t there.”

Hugh added, “It’s up to us to protect the innocent. How the Fomhóraigh know that you are waking up, so to speak, and know that you are in Portugal. They sense your presence in a faint manner, a presence that has had you walking the Camino. I’ve been blocking the fact that we are in Lisbon and not walking from Porto de Muge to Santarem. Once we get to Santarem, I will lift the block so they will assume that nothing has changed.”

“So when do we go to the Cathedral?” Fred asked

Hugh answered, “Right about now would be the best time. It will only take a few moments for the others to show up and activate the changes.”

Angela spoke up, “I guess we should go. There is no use in delaying the inevitable.”


The group gathered in an alcove that was distant from the sporadic mid-afternoon flow of visitors. There was a small, almost bare altar with only room for about a dozen worshippers on the short pews that almost barricaded the entrance to the alcove.  Hugh led the way into the depths of the chapel which was dark with shadows. He had Angela and René take a seat on the floor to the right of the altar sitting in a Lotus position as if for meditation. Hugh then instructed Fred to kneel on the outermost pew as though in prayer, a position that would keep others from entering into the chapel disturbing the sanctity of the space.

“Fred, you need to keep your eyes closed. You will hear and sense a great deal of power that is necessary to accomplish the transition. You will learn what has happened later when we are gone from the Cathedral. Please, Fred,” continued Hugh with a large measure of respect for the pastor, “This is important.”

Turning to Angela and René, Hugh asked them to close their eyes and only open them when asked. Almost as soon as the two had closed their eyes, they began to feel a swirl of energy stir the shadows. Then, they began to hear a faint sound of approaching presences.

René felt the sensation of hands hovering and then descending upon his head remained bowed as though in prayer. The sounds coalesced into voices speaking a tongue that was outside of his experience in the modern world. The volume of the voices began to fill the innermost spaces of René’s body as though trying to touch each cell of his body. Then, to his surprise, René began to understand the words being spoken. He listened in awe as he heard a chorus of voices calling.

“Return to us, Belenus – the shining one, god of the sun, god of purity, of fire, and of fertility. Return to us, father of the Belgae.”

As the voices intoned their supplications, René felt a welling of power grow within, bringing forth the rush of memories, his ancient memories. René rose from his seat and stood with the presences as they turned to lay their hands on Angela’s crown. He added his voice to theirs to welcome her back to her tribe.

“Return to us, Áine – goddess of the sun and the moon, goddess of love and fertility. Return to us, daughter of Manannan, and mother of the Eriu.”

René watched in awe and wonder as Angela rose and blossomed before his eyes. As she turned to smile at him, she reached out her hands to grasp his. Like himself, she had returned. Together they turned to face the others of the Tuatha Dé Danann to give thanks. Together they invoked their thanks.

“Hear us, Áine and Belenus, as we give thanks for the welcome home. We are honoured by the grace and gifts of being at home with you, Lugh – god of healing and reincarnation, Airmid – goddess of healing and reincarnation. We give thanks as well to you, Anu – mother goddess of man and the earth, and Aengus – god of love and beauty. We are blessed to be again in your debt, Cernunnos – the antlered god of fertility and death, and you, Morrigan – goddess of war and death; and finally Neit – god of war. We are home because of you.”

With these words spoken, all but Lugh and Brigantia vanished back into the shadows. René turned to see Fred who was visibly shaking. Fred’s eyes had remained closed as the powerful forces swirled and as unnamed sounds had enveloped him. Seeing his best friend caught up in nameless fears, René walked to him, placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke gently, “It is done, Fred. It’s time for us to go catch a train.”

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A Matriarchal Path to the Light of Consciousness

Mothering the Earth and its peoples.

Mothering the Earth and its peoples.

“So Hugh. What were you saying about Celtic gods and goddesses?” quizzed Fred. “They’re mortal, but at the same time immortal?”

“That about sums it up,” Hugh replied. “Just think of the gods and goddesses being perpetually in the prime of life for decades and even centuries then you’ll begin to get the picture. They don’t age, but they do die like any other human when they meet a sword or bullet or bomb.”

“And then they are reborn? It doesn’t sound very plausible no matter how you try to explain it.”

“Fred, you’re a clergyman. You teach the bible and the lives of those who have lived for many hundreds of years. You even teach about being reborn. What’s so strange about what I’ve said compared to what you teach?”

“But that rebirth is in heaven, not on earth,” protested Fred.

The Resurrection of Jesus. The promise of rebirth for all.

The Resurrection of Jesus. The promise of rebirth for all.

“And the facts that people lived for upwards of nine hundred years? Do you teach that as gospel truth? What’s the difference?”

“Well for one thing, you are talking about mythology, not about truths. What I teach is the word of God.”

“Agreed,” Hugh graciously conceded. “I am indeed talking about mythology, stories that were passed down orally over millennia. Yet you have to admit that there are parallels between the mythologies that came out of human history, and the Word of God that you teach.”

“Ah, I see your point,” admitted Fred. “So tell us more about these immortal mortals.”

“Well, before I do that, I want you to think of two other scenarios from history – Jesus and Buddha. Both of these men somehow came into their own in early midlife. Before that, they had almost normal lives. Well, the same is the case for Celtic gods and goddesses. With rebirth, they live as normal humans totally unaware of their real identity. Then, at a point in their lives, things begin to change. They begin to manifest their innate powers. It is at this time that other gods and goddesses appear to these normal humans to aid in their transformation.”

Danu - Mother of the Earth and the Celtic gods and goddesses.

Danu – Mother of the Earth and the Celtic gods and goddesses.

“That’s so cool,” exclaimed Wanda. I mean anyone could be a god or goddess.”

“That’s exactly the point, Wanda,” smiled Hugh. You, Fred, René, Angela, Tom, or even Brigit or me could be gods or goddesses-in-waiting.”

“So, is there like, a hierarchy, you know, like a head god like Zeus?” wondered Fred “I guess I’m wondering how one could fit Christianity into the picture.”

“Not really,” admitted Hugh. “They are considered children of the goddess Danu, the same elemental force that is called Danu, a river goddess in Hinduism. The Tuatha Dé Danann, the children of the goddess Danu are not literally her children. Water is the source of life. In old Irish stories there are suggested lineages, but that doesn’t even begin to hint at a hierarchy. That said, the ultimate source remains unnamed as though the Supreme Deity is beyond the ideas of male or female.”

“How can I reconcile my beliefs with what you’re saying,” begged Fred.

Mary, the Mother of God, Queen of Heaven and Earth

Mary, the Mother of God, Queen of Heaven and Earth

“Perhaps if you could think of Mary, the mother of Jesus and the twelve disciples as the Tuatha Dé Danann, all with the divine intention of guiding humanity to embrace the light, then you can sense the power that inspired Mary and her non-biological children. Their whole existence is centred on the battle to deliver humanity from the forces of darkness. The Supreme Deity from which all emerges exists and is acknowledged but not named for naming creates boundaries and the Supreme Deity is without boundaries.”

“I think I understand. So God as I know him in my mind and heart is this unnamed Supreme Deity.”

The conversation fell off and the others began to chat about the day’s walk while looking at the Camino guide for what was to be expected for the next day. René suggested that they walk a short distance, just sixteen kilometres, so that their bodies wouldn’t become too exhausted. With another shorted day to follow taking them to Santarem. The suggestion was approved without a hint of protest.


Lugh turned to Brigantia as the two had walked off from the others to have a private conversation under the guise of checking out the town.

“You were right, Fred is providing us with opportunities to speak to Belenus and Áine indirectly and teach them some vital information about who we are in the process,” Brigantia acknowledged.

“It’s important that the rest of the group gets as much information as possible before too long. I have a strong feeling that we are going to engage with the enemy sooner than later. We’re going to have to begin Áine’s and Belenus’ training no later than tomorrow. Thankfully the planned walking will leave us more time to do more than talk.

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Beginning the Journey of Self-Discovery

Belenus - god of the sun.

Belenus – god of the sun.

“Well,” muttered René, “That was an uninspiring walk with not much in terms of photographic sites along the way.”

“I didn’t think it was all that bad,” remarked Angela. “Sure there was too much pavement. But still, we’re in Portugal and experiencing it authentically. We get to see Portugal with its warts and all.”

As if by mutual agreement, both Hugh and Brigit let down their barriers that contained their auric presence, just enough so that René and Angel would be able to sense that presence.

Aine - goddess of love

Aine – goddess of love

“There it is again, René!” Angel exclaimed. “Do you feel it?”

René looked at Brigit and Hugh and immediately knew that they were the source of the thrumming that they were experiencing.

“It’s coming from the two of you, isn’t it?” confronted René. “You’re the source of the vibrations we’ve been feeling, not portals or ley-lines. Admit it.”

“Yes, you are feeling our aura,” Brigit said with no hint of apology. “Back in both Cathedrals you didn’t sense our presence, but the presence of the ley-line portals that Hugh talked about. You did feel our presence back at the Café Le Petit Prince. It was our first deliberate attempt to see if you would notice our energy.”

“So who are you, really?” demanded René with evident anger. “Your walking with us is not just a coincidence is it?

“No coincidence,” Hugh confirmed. “As for who we are, that will be explained very soon. There is a reason you both can feel our presence as you do. It’s because we have lowered our shields, our barriers so that you could sense us. What you are sensing is just a fraction of what we are feeling from the two of you.”

“What Hugh is trying to get at, is that you need to learn how to shield your own auric presences, your energy signatures. We’re hoping we could teach you this before the others return. It is too dangerous to be broadcasting to the world who and where you are.”

Angela looked at Hugh and Brigit with astonishment. “Dangerous? What are you talking about? In danger from what?”

“I’ll explain it better when the others come back in a generalised, mythological manner. Please just trust us that you need to learn a vital skill,” Brigit requested with urgency.

“What do you want us to do?” René asked with evident wariness.

Hugh and Brigit explained the process of building a container within their minds and had them practice it until both were satisfied that Angela and René had been successful in masking their auric presence.

“Good,” smiled Brigit. “Now you’re not announcing your presence like some flashing neon billboard. You might notice that you aren’t sensing our presence now either.”

“That’s true,” announced Angela with surprise. “I can’t feel a thing!”

“Explain!” demanded René. “Who are you, really?”

“We are, I know that this will be difficult to believe at this point,” Hugh answered. “We are Celtic mythological beings. My real name is Lugh, and this is Brigantia. You might have read or heard something about us in the past.”

“So why us? Why are you saying that we have been broadcasting our presence and that it was dangerous?” Angela rushed in with her own questions.

“Because you are like us, you also mythological beings. René, you are a reincarnation of Belenus. Angela, you are really Áine. I see the others coming back. Later Brigit and I will explain this in general terms in order to have you both better understand. I hope that is good enough for now. When the time is ripe we will explain it to you both in greater detail. Is that okay for now?” asked Hugh.

“I guess we don’t have much choice, not that I believe what you’re telling us. It sounds anything but credible,” René stated.

“Believe it or not for now. Just remember to keep your shields activated.”


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The Ride of the Sidhe

The Ride of the Sidhe - Tuatha Dé Danann - versus the forces of darkness - the Fomhóraigh

The Ride of the Sidhe – Tuatha Dé Danann – versus the forces of darkness – the Fomhóraigh

Lugh and Brigantia sat inside the Café Le Petit Prince with a third member of the Tuatha Dé Danann, the Tribe of the Gods, the goddess Morrigan, a raven-haired woman. They sat in the depths of the restaurant, away from the windows. The three of them were attentive to the presence of the group of four who had entered the restaurant. They were also keeping a vigilance for the Fomhóraigh, their ancient enemy, the race of dark gods and goddesses that sought nothing but the destruction of humanity and the earth.

Celtic goddess - The Morrigan

Celtic goddess – The Morrigan

Lugh turned to the Morrigan, “Aengus was right, I am positive that is Belenus and Áine. It’s a good thing you alerted us to their presence here in Paris. They go by the names of René and Angela. I didn’t expect them to be this old.”

“Well I did, at least Belenus,” the Morrigan declared. “The war to come will need more brains than brawn. The world has changed. And we all know that wisdom only comes with age.”

“You’re right,” admitted Brigantia. “The Fomhóraigh have hidden themselves behind the veils of wise men and women of commerce and politics. Technology and money have replaced the spear and sword. Today we can easily be killed with a well-placed bullet.”

Lugh interjected, “We still need the skills of warfare for the close encounters to come. Thank goodness that when their powers are awakened they will become a bit younger in body. It will be necessary to train them physically, to be warriors.”

Angela turned to René and asked in a soft voice, “Do you feel that? The thrumming?”

He nodded while paying cursory attention to Wanda’s awe from their initial discoveries in Paris. He caught Angel’s eyes as she looked at him and was surprised by an intensity in her gaze. Somehow, she looked just a bit different. Well not exactly different, but more heightened.

“I think it’s coming from you,” she spoke with an air of disbelief.”

“What was that?” Wanda asked as she noticed the mostly quiet interactions between René and Angela.

“We were talking about feeling some sort of vibrations. We both felt it in the Cathedral earlier, and now it is back again,” explained Angela. “Did either of you notice a sort of pulsing sensation in the Cathedral or here in the restaurant?”

“Not really,” offered Tom. “The only thing I can say I feel is a mixture of tiredness and awe. I guess it is mostly sensory overload for me.”

“Same here,” echoed Wanda.

“Likely it is just jet lag,” assured René knowing that he was just offering an excuse to end the conversational thread. “We’ll be feeling the effects of jet lag for at least another two or three days.”

René looked around the busy restaurant searching for something that he thought might be the source of the thrumming. He saw mostly young adults and a few older people, sitting at the various tables, all filled with customers. Most of the patrons appeared to be either college or university students. He assumed that the older patrons were likely either teachers or business people. There was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen as he focused for a few moments at the people sitting at the tables. “’Strange,’ he commented to himself. ‘I swear there is something or someone here that is responsible for these vibrations.’

Satisfied that there were no answers to be found in the restaurant, René turned his attention back to Angle, Wanda and Tom. He gave Angel a startled look.

“Angel,” he said softly. “The thrumming is coming from you.”


The Morrigan leaned closer to speak to her companions, “They know something is up, and it is radiating off of them like crazy. The two of you are going to have to teach them to barricade their essence in a hurry. The last thing they need is to advertise their presence to our ancient enemy before they are ready and capable of dealing with them.”

“We will be meeting them tomorrow afternoon at the Sé de Lisboa. Once that happens, we can begin our work. For now, it’s time to head back to Vienna and get our last preparations taken care of,” Brigantia concluded.

“Take care of them,” the Morrigan cautioned. “They are too important to lose at this time. Something big is on the horizon and we need as many of the Tuatha Dé Danann as we can muster.”

“We’ll be careful and they will be ready,” promised Lugh. “

The group of three rose from their table and left the restaurant without being noticed by any of the other patrons. It was as if they hadn’t even been there except for the evidence of used dishes and a few Euro bills which was more than enough to settle their bill.


“I must have been imagining it all,” admitted Angel. “Right now, all I feel is tired. René let’s go check in to our hotel. I need a rest. You can show Tom and Wanda more of Paris while I rest.”

“I think I need a nap as well,” Wanda acknowledged. “I didn’t sleep well on the plane and it’s catching up with me.”

It was decided that they would all take a few hours for rest before heading out to wander through Montmartre in the evening. Settling the bill with their waitress, they made their way to the metro station and on to their accommodations.

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Immortals Walk Among Us


Lugh – Celtic god

Lugh stared out the window of his hotel apartment in Vienna at the church just across the park. It had stopped raining and he could clearly see the church lit up and the spiralling stairs of each tower of the gothic church which was called Votivkirche, the Votive Church. He remembered the last time he was in Vienna in 1908 when he had stayed at the same hotel. His reason for that last visit was to meet with Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud at the Wednesday Psychological Society meetings that were held in one of the apartments that comprised Freud’s home which was just a few blocks from the Votive Church. That wasn’t Lugh’s first visit to Vienna. He had also been in the city for the dedication of the Votive Church in 1879, and at the time of the assassination attempt on Emperor Franz Joseph in 1853. Vienna had always been a place that he called home.

Brigantia Celtic goddess

Brigantia Celtic goddess

Turning away from the window, he took out his smart phone and checked his messages. He was concerned as Brigantia was supposed to meet with him later in the evening so that they could discuss next steps. Setting the smartphone on the bed, he walked into the bathroom for a quick shower and shave. He had purchased a small beard trimmer from a shop back in Santa Barbara before he had left California where he had been teaching mythology at a graduate institute. He had taught there for seventeen years and had just retired. To have stayed there much longer would only cause him problems since he didn’t age naturally.

Taking the shaver, he trimmed off his beard that had worn while in California. He left only an outline of a beard, about a five-day growth that he would likely have to remove once he established his new identity.

Like himself, Brigantia was one of the remaining group that had originally been called gods and goddesses in Celtic mythology. Most of the original group had died, none of them by natural causes. With the death of one of the group, the remaining Tuatha Dé Danann were charged with finding the human which took on the original spirit of the departed Rider. For the past two years, it was Brigantia’s task to search the ley lines for any hint of their new hosts. That task was made difficult by the fact that the hosts never realized that they had become different, they had no awareness of the spirit which had melded with their own. Once found, these new hosts needed to be awakened to their true nature, their true purpose.

Living a long time meant a constant changing of names, addresses, and families. And, in these modern times, that included new identities that had a history that would stand intensive data searches. Lugh needed a new passport and other pieces of identification to begin a new version of his life. The process of creating a new identity had been initiated five years earlier. There had to be a verifiable history if he was going to be able to slip into a new career and community. It had been a lot easier to create a new identity and history before technology had enabled fact-checking. Yet, in a way, the new identities held up better in the normal world where no one questioned who you were if there was verifiable electronic evidence as proof of identity.

While in the shower, he heard his smartphone signal the arrival of a message. Grabbing a towel to wipe off the excess water, he moved to the bedroom to retrieve the phone.

Aine - Celtic goddess

Aine – Celtic goddess

It was Brigantia. She told him that they should meet at the Café Francis on Währinger Straße. Lugh sent her a text message telling her that he would be there about the same time as she expected to be there. It was only a few blocks away and he had time to finish getting ready. Returning to the bathroom, he shaved to shape his beard which was going to be his new look for the next few years. The shower had removed the last traces of greying from his hair and he now appeared a much younger man in his mid-thirties.

Looking in the mirror, he was pleased with what he saw. His body was strong, something he worked hard on maintaining using a combination of a fitness gym, martial arts training, workouts in the countryside near the graduate school, and an active lifestyle. Lugh put on a pair of black pants and a long-sleeved sweater. Then, grabbing a light jacket and an umbrella, he walked out of the apartment to meet with Brigantia.


Lugh was seated at a table for two near the back of the restaurant where the light was more diffused when Brigantia entered the restaurant. As she approached wearing a smile on her beautiful face, Lugh stood up to embrace her and give her a kiss on each cheek.

“As always, Brigantia, your beauty takes my breath away.”

Belenus - Celtic god of sun.

Belenus – Celtic god of sun.

“You don’t look so bad either, Lugh. I like that new look. It gives you that successful up-and-coming look that suits a successful entrepreneur.”

“Would you like to order wine before we eat?” Lugh suggested.

“Sounds like a good idea to me.”

While waiting for the maître d’ to appear and for their wine, the two engaged in small talk about who was doing what, about the current political situation in the United States and how that was impacting on the climate in Europe.

When their wine arrived and the server departed with their orders, the talk turned to the reason for their meeting.

“Aengus has contacted me,” Brigantia began. “He is quite sure that we have found Áine and Belenus.”

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A Moment of Warmth Before Winter

A late October BBQ.

A late October BBQ.

It is a strange day with heavy cloud cover yet with temperatures reaching almost 15 Celsius in the mid-afternoon. By the time I ready to BBQ, it had dropped to a still balmy 12 C. I have to take advantage of the warmth when it appears for it won’t be long before we have temperatures well below freezing – forecast for the next two weeks is bleak.

Time to take off the clothes from the clothesline.

Time to take off the clothes from the clothesline.

Taking advantage of the weather means hanging out the laundry to dry outdoors. When the weather is bad, the drying happens on lines I have strung in the basement. Of course, when there is a “rush” for dry clothes (almost never), there is a dryer in the utility room along with the washing machine.

When the clothes were finally off the clothesline, I noticed a late rosebud on the island of rosebushes. Then, sadly, it was time to head indoors. It gets dark early with sunset for today before six pm. It was gloomy dark grey before sunset. The evening will be spent au naturel inside, working on more preparation for my NaNoWriMo project for next month. The novel writing exercise begins in five days. And as in the last two books, Rene Beauchemin becomes the protagonist. I still have a lot of work to do if I am to be ready.

I will return with a continued exploration of the masculine and the feminine through art.

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Risking All For Love

Venus, also know as Aphrodite, by the sea.

Venus, also know as Aphrodite, by the sea.

Aphrodite, the goddess of love, of beauty, also known as Venus. This image painted by Henri-Pierre Picou in the 19th century is just one of many that depicts the goddess. She is soft, not hard and angular like a man. She is vulnerable, yet modest in spite of her naked vulnerability. She invites trust and blossoms with worship.

As the goddess of love, she excited passion in the hearts of gods and men, and by this power ruled over all the living creation. Now, any man who has found his personal goddess and taken her as his wife, knows all about being ruled by her.

Emma as a creature of the sea.

Emma as a creature of the sea.

She is a goddess, an archetypal presence that pulls us into her depths, the depths marked by the sea in which we never master. As we catch glimpses of her, we see her as we need to see her, as a blinding light of perfect beauty. And, perhaps sadly and dangerously, we only see that surface beauty. There is a depth to her that takes one into her dark depths, the place of both birth and death. Like all gods and goddesses, she has a dark and light aspect.


A sensual, playful nature pulls us into her embrace, entices us to “master” her. Yet, no sooner do we sense a feeling of dominion, we experience a death, a small death of ego and will. We are vulnerable and ripe for domination by this goddess. We shrink within her, become children to her. And she has the power that calls to us again and again to submit.

maaritIn the darkness we reach for her, search desperately for her knowing that we are only complete when consumed by her.

The goddess lies dormant in all women. Unconscious of their power as creators of the universe, they are as wounded as the men who covet them, desire them, risk all for them.


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Sexuality and Meaningful Relationships



Hadrian, a Roman Emperor took a lover, Antonius who was deified by Hadrian upon his death. Antonius died young, by the age of twenty.  For Hadrian, the relationship was meaningful.

Antonius as Dionysus

Antonius as Dionysus

In the Roman Empire, Roman men were free to enjoy sex with other males without a perceived loss of masculinity or social status, as long as they took the dominant or penetrative role. Greek society did not distinguish sexual desire or behaviour by the gender of the participants, but rather by the role that each participant played in the sex act, that of active penetrator or passive penetrated.

Why do I bring up this topic here? In the modern western world, there is a disproportionate number of men who identify as naturists or nudists in comparison with women. I don’t have any scientific evidence to support my belief that this discrepancy is based on the predominance of men who are homosexual (or bisexual). Though I publicly self-identify as a heterosexual male, I have had many men express “love” for me, a desire to engage in sexual activity with me, or simply to share my intimate photos with them for their self-gratification. Perhaps, strangely, I am not bothered by this interest in me. It is an interest that I don’t find threatening in spite of the fact of being sexually molested by “men” when I was a very young boy.

My preference, sexually, is to engage with a woman. I realise that this is a psychological as well as a biological preference that has little “ego” involvement. Yet, not just any woman would fill me need. There is a deep-rooted (think of complexes and archetypes) that needs to be activated otherwise, all I am left with is a feeling of sexual indifference. For me, sexual union is all about relationship. Without relationship it is no more than a desperate attempt at collective masturbation. In a sexual relationship that is charged with the power of union, what Jung termed mysterium coniunctionis, the “other” becomes a “magical other.” That other awakens within the “self,” a fullness and a depth that lies hidden beneath the “ego.” Does this “other” that seems charged with magical energies have to be a woman for me? Probably. But, I won’t ever rule out the possibility of finding the energies align to create a “fated” bond with another man.

I know better than to “protest too much.”

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