I've been trying to synthesize what Joanna Russ said about voice being "on the slant," and her imaginings of macho Kirk, the golden grain god and "egalitarian other alien" Spock, the dark Pan god as same-sex lovers; what Jo Eldride Carney says about stories about Queens reinforcing the narrative of patriarchy; and my dreams.
In my dreams deity expresses itself as queer and male which is A) able to balance spiritual love, romantic love, and sexual love; B) a mediator between immanent, nurturing, divine, erotic waters and culture; and, C) in touch with and informed by fiery erotic creative inspiration. Looking at the dream imagery, I'd paraphrase this as the rhyton and the snake.
Hmmm. Now all I have to do is write around these symbols in a way that is interesting, yet not preachy.
On the submission front, I'd been waiting and waiting for a market to get back to me, and was about to query them when I checked their web site. It turned out they'd rejected my story (based on their usual turn-around-time, probably two weeks ago), but the e-mail must have crossed somewhere.
On the writing front, the other night I passed a piece of 800 word flash through the table. This time around, walking over the Plank of Description, I fell not into the Deep Pool of Too Much Detail, but instead into the Trickle of Not Enough Information. Most everyone got bits and pieces of the story, one person figured it all out, and the person sitting next to me kept going "OH!" as the critique progressed and little bits of the puzzle were revealed.
And now, back to writing.
Showing posts with label rhyton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rhyton. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 09, 2014
Wednesday, July 02, 2014
Dream: Rhyton Priest
I had this dream October 16 of 2012. I thought I posted it to the blog at the time, but apparently, I hadn't. The dream was part of a FaceBook Discussion. I'm posting it now because it's a particularly meaningful dream for me.
Just before I went to bed, I read a post about a Christian straight man from Tacoma who pretended to be gay for a year so he could write a book about his experiences. At first I had several conflicting emotional responses ranging from, curiosity as to what he had did, cynicism about writing a book about his experiences, and a sense of betrayal and cultural appropriation. But... I haven't read his book and I wanted to wait before responding to the [FaceBook] post [by David Raines, I think, asking for reactions].
As I expected I might, I had a dream which I think addresses this... (and no, I still haven't read the book).
The dream started out about rentals and insurance, and then transitioned.
I was in a dry land, with lots of large stony blocks. I have an image of a river emerging from the fallen stones. Somehow we were either performing "Jesus Christ, Superstar," and/else we were living in the historical time of Christ as an adult. I have a recollection of togas or white robes.
A group of about six of us formed a procession into the shallow cave from which the river issued. There was some sort of ritualistic taking of water or wine from a rhyton. I'm trying to recall if the rhyton used was carved or not. My sense was that it was plain, and gently curved like a horn. I think it was stone or ceramic. It was large and heavy with the liquid inside.
(Here's some examples of non-plain rhytons)
We passed it around, squirting the water into each other's mouths. Having taken the waters together, we processed outside into the bright morning sunlight. I had the full, heavy rhyton (I have a sense of it resting on my shoulder), and was taking its contents back with me to distribute (I'm not sure where or to who).
A woman (a religious Christian person I know from real life) with a kind of crown of nails (points outward from her head -- in waking life she reminds me of Mary Hansen's painting of The Queen of Swords) was at the gathering outside on the stone blocks.
She was of a different faith, but my sense was that we were all priests and priestesses together, so I offered and she accepted the spurt of liquid that shot from the rhyton when I removed my finger from its opening. I have a sense that there was another woman there in brilliant white robes (there was a short conversation, or the brilliantly garbed woman explained something to the other woman). The water shooting into her (the Christian woman's) mouth was a thin stream, as if from a garden hose spigot only slightly opened or an atomizer. In waking, this seems wildly Freudian (it could only be more so if milk came out of the rhyton instead of water), but in the dream the emotional emphasis was the satisfaction of sharing water in order to quench another's thirst.
To interpret this dream... If you want to understand the message of the waters, you can drink from the source, or you can (less immediately) drink through an intermediary. Also, this dream is a metaphor for my understanding of the male expression of deity...
So, yay for Tacoma guy for trying to experience what it's like to be discriminated against for being perceived as gay, and yay for this guy questioning his religiously-motivated intolerance, but his message of the grace of queers would have been stronger had he actually been queer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)