goddess painting of the day: Hekate
I know I promised to elaborate on the latest going on here at Art and Words. And believe me, if things go forth as it seems they may, this is sorta big news. But it’s Friday. And Friday is when I post my goddess painting of the day. So my news will have to wait until my next post. (Yes, I know I’m being mysterious . . . )
In keeping with the theme of mystery, I’ve decided to feature Hekate as the goddess painting of the day. And hey, it’s Friday the 13th.

Hekate is the Greek goddess associated with the crone aspect of the triple goddess. As the wise crone aspect of the triple goddess, Hekate symbolizes the dark, or waning moon—the time when the moon withholds its light before it illuminates the night sky once more.
Hekate was honored as the Dark One, a mysterious goddess who brought visions and knowledge from the realm beyond life. As goddess of the dark moon, Hekate was affiliated with storms, howling dogs and willow trees. The goddess is symbolized by a golden key, able to unlock untold riches from heaven and earth. In the famous story of Demeter and Persephone, it is Hekate who leads the bereft goddess to the sun god, Helios, thus reuniting mother and daughter.
This oil painting of Hekate was originally created for Persephone and the Pomegranate in 1992 — this is part of a larger painting, which depicts Demeter imploring Hekate for information regarding her daughter Persephone. Years later, I decided to use this section of the painting in the anniversary reissue of The Book of Goddesses.
Incidentally, I am planning a private reissue of Persephone and the Pomegranate. Many people have requested the book over the years, but it sold out when first published. I had originally planned to produce this new edition early this year — it was to be my second Art and Words Edition publication. But my work deadlines have proved more time-intensive than I originally thought. I’m still holding out hope the reissue will happen sooner rather than later, hopefully by the summer.
If you’re interested in Persephone and the Pomegranate and would like a heads up, shoot me an e-mail at e-comment at artandwords dot com. Or better still, sign up for my informal occasional newsletter.
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What would a superhero wear?*

Though I’ve often considered what a goddess would wear (and attempted to research it through archival paintings and sculptures), I’ve never really thought about what a superhero would wear. Anyway, here’s one answer to this question: According to artisan/photographer/new mom Andrea Sher, superheroes wear funky-beautiful one-of-a-kind silver necklaces and bracelets, handcrafted of vintage glass and lucite beads from around the world. (An alternate answer is posted below — follow the asterik.)
These necklaces and bracelets would protect you from harm, attract people to you, and create magic in your life. They would invite adventure and color into your life.

And so Andrea set out to create said-necklaces and bracelets. And thus was Superhero Designs born.
How’s that for an origin myth?
Superhero Designs has been on maternity hiatus for the past few months. But in anticipation of Mother’s Day (how appropriate!) Andrea is taking orders until mid-May. During this period, if you purchase two necklaces, you’ll receive a free Superhero tee.

Since every Art and Words goddess is also a superhero, I thought this offer might be of interest to you. Which is why Andrea Sher’s Superhero Designs is my Retail Therapy choice for this week.
In my next post, I’ll get down to a little more detail about the latest at Art and Words. I know I eluded last week that there was a lot going on, but much of it under development. Since then, I’ve made enough progress to not feel so ineffectual. Or secretive.
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* On a related note, Edna Mode of The Incredibles has very strong advice for what a superhero should never wear:
Edna: No capes!
Bob: Isn’t that my decision?
Edna: Do you remember Thunderhead? Tall, storm powers? Nice man, good with kids.
Bob: Listen, E…
Edna: November 15th of ‘58! All was well, another day saved, when? his cape snagged on a missile fin!
Bob: Thunderhead was not the brightest bulb…
Edna: Stratogale! April 23rd, ‘57! Cape caught in a jet turbine!
Bob: E, you can’t generalize about these things…
Edna: Metaman, express elevator! Dynaguy, snag on takeoff! Splashdown, sucked into a vortex!
[shouts]
Edna: No capes!
I couldn’t resist posting this excerpt. My sister is a seamstress/clothing designer, so “no capes” makes me laugh everytime.
hidden in plain sight
A friend forwarded me this article today from the Washington Post about Joshua Bell, one of the most brilliant violinists of our time. As an experiment — or PR stunt, you decide — Bell was asked to perform as a busker for 45 minutes during rush hour in L’Enfant Plaza, a major Washington DC Metro station.
The concept: To see if genius would be recognized if hidden in plain sight.
The disguise: None. Unless you count Bell wearing street clothes instead of concert formal a subterfuge.
The instrument: Bell’s beloved Gibson ex Huberman, which was crafted in 1713 by Antonio Stradivari. This violin is considered one of the greatest stringed instruments created by perhaps the greatest luthier who ever lived.
I’m sure you could guess what happened. Of the more than one thousand people who passed Bell as he performed, only several stopped to listen. And only one person recognized him. For his efforts, Bell received a measly $32.17 in hand outs — about $40 an hour.
So why didn’t anyone pay attention to Bell’s free concert? It wasn’t the Metro’s accoustics — Bell said they were particularly resonant. Nor was he slouching — he thought that he played particularly well on some especially difficult pieces, such as Bach’s Chaconne.
One theory that comes to my mind is that the number of people who stopped were in proportion to classical music lovers everywhere. Or that many of the commuters were plugged into their iPods, unable to hear anything outside of their chosen aural environment. More likely, it was that they were so used to quickly classifying (excuse the pun!) whatever stimuli reaches their senses down to its most basic info-byte to save time: I see a violinist, is he asking me for money? Will he slow me down? Am I running late? Will I get to work on time? This is a common survival mechanism for city dwellers (and I’m guilty of it myself). There’s just so much going on around you at all times that you filter things. Otherwise, you’d just be overwhelmed with Too Much Information and become strained and drained from the effort of processing it all.
Still, it’s so sad to consider that so many people missed such an experience of beauty. And it was there, right in front of them for the taking.
I was thinking about this strange-but-true story this afternoon, as my toddler daughter searched for easter eggs that we had hidden for her to find. Tom and I were careful to hide them in easily accessible places, so Thea would find them without becoming frustrated. Thea was so persistant as she hunted. Yet every so often, an egg would elude her, even though it was right there before her eyes. It was almost too obvious, too easy, even for a two year old with a limited attention span.
These sort of events, great and small, makes me wonder how often we stumble across gifts of beauty and inspiration, hidden in plain sight. It makes me wonder how many I’ve missed along the way, because I was too busy or too preoccupied with the soundtrack of my thoughts.
Sometimes all we can hope for are eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart to recognize.
goddess painting of the day: Erda
If you live in the northern hemisphere, this is the time of year when the earth finally awakens from its winter-long slumber. Accordingly, it seems appropriate to feature Erda, the Norse goddess of the earth, as my goddess painting of the day.

Stories of Erda’s mysterious powers abound. She was believed to live in a cave within the earth’s deepest recesses, which was set next to the roots of Yggdrasil, the vast World Tree. The earth was thought to revolve on its axis around Yggdrasil, which was watered by Erda’s plentiful fountain of wisdom. Erda’s powers were as encompassing as Yggdrasil’s leafy span—indeed, the goddess and her magical fountain were often invoked by those in need of her far-reaching wisdom.
Others believed Erda could bend the inexorable powers of fate, over which she ruled. One myth tells how the Norse god Odin gave up one of his eyes for the privilege of drinking from Erda’s fountain; his quest for knowledge was worth more to him than the pedestrian gift of eyesight.
This little watercolor of Erda was painted for the new anniversary edition of The Book of Goddesses. It will also be published in my upcoming Goddess Inspiration Oracle this fall.
journeys with art
As I mention in my previous post, I do have two upcoming art exhibitions — details are posted on the “events + exhibitions” link located to the top of this blog. But here’s additional information about the gallery show that’s taking place next month:
May 5 – May 21, 2007:
Journeys: A Group Exhibition
featuring the art of Kris Waldherr, Karen Zuegner, Rebecca Hermann, Jim Butkis and Kat and Jim Moser
Jackson Artworks
1108 Jackson Street
Omaha, Nebraska 68102
402.341.1832
This is an annual exhibition at Jackson Artworks which is themed around travels, actual and metaphorical. I’m excited to have my paintings included for the first time. Several of the exhibiting artists share a house in Europe every summer, usually in the south of France, which inspires their paintings and photos.

As for myself, I’ll be presenting an visual journey into the Museo di Palazzo Filomela, the imaginary museum that houses my novel The Lover’s Path. Besides paintings from that book, I plan to show some of the artifacts I made for the museum: old tarot cards, forbidden love letters and faux photos. I also intend to have a separate section devoted to the goddess paintings I created for the new edition of The Book of Goddesses and the Goddess Inspiration Oracle.

On the personal front, I’ve been friends with Karen Zuegner for over a decade and love her work. She’s inspired by a lot of the same art which I am, but has a very different artistic response. Her paintings are large abstracts that are ecstatically riotous and richly colored. Karen is originally from Omaha, but transplanted to New York City some years ago.

Omaha residents Jim Butkis (whose mysterious photos are featured on the Jackson Artworks site) and Rebecca Hermann have also been friends with Karen for some years; I believe they met each other way back when in art school.
A few years ago (ie: pre-motherhood) I was fortunate to accompany Karen, Jim and Becky when they rented a fourteenth century piano nobile in the heart of Venice; a piano nobile is an apartment in a palazzo on the main floor. I still recall how the steps on the marble staircase undulated, like the sea. They must have been worn down from several centuries of footsteps on them. I also remember the ancient key that opened the antique lock on the door. Unlike a traditional lock, where you turn one way and push open, this lock required us to turn the key two-and-one-quarter turns to the right and a half-turn to the left, like something out of a Nancy Drew mystery.
The first time we used that key, I felt as if we were literally unlocking the door to the past. I hope that the people viewing my contribution to Journeys will feel a small sense of that wonder.








